^
 
 .-AC IF::. AVINtW 
 Q BEACH, CALIF.
 
 OUT OF WEDLOCK, 
 
 BY ALBERT Ross. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "LovE AT SEVENTY," "AN ORIGINAL SINNER,* 
 
 "WHY I'M SINGLE," " THOU SHALT NOT," 
 
 " YOUNG Miss GIDDY," ETC. 
 
 " There is no motherhood outside of 
 wedlock that can be tolerated in a civil- 
 ized country none that will not bring to 
 its possessor a terrible load of ignominy 
 and suffering'' Page 12 5. 
 
 M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY 
 
 CHICAGO NEW YORK
 
 Made in U. S. A.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 MR. MEDFORD'S STORY. 
 
 Chapter Pag 
 
 I. Beginning with a Mystery. . . g 
 
 MISS BRIXTON'S PARENTS. 
 
 II. "The tragedy of my life." . 16 
 
 III. Housekeeping under Difficulties. . . 25 
 
 IV. George and Emma 34 
 
 V. 4< Tell me you love him !" . . . 43 
 
 VI. Mr. Brixton Understands. . . .49 
 
 VII. Among the Adirondacks. . . .57 
 
 VIII. " Ugh ! What can you do ?" . . . 65 
 
 MISS BRIXTON'S GIRLHOOD. 
 
 IX. The Birth of Blanche 72 
 
 X. " I never had a child." .... 82 
 
 XI. Mjbther Love Prevails 92 
 
 XII. Forgiveness and Death. . . . 102 
 
 XIII. " The risk is too great." . . .114 
 
 XIV. An Artificial Rule 123 
 
 XV. Professional Services. .... 136 
 
 M 
 
 2061S69
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 MISS BRIXTON A MOTHER. 
 
 Chapter 
 
 XVI. " Too lovely for anything." . . .146 
 XVII. An Amateur Detective. ... 156 
 
 XVIII. In and About Algiers 166 
 
 XIX. " He insulted a woman." . . . 175 
 
 XX. Fantelli Astonished 182 
 
 XXI. Blanche Goes Abroad in Haste. . . 188 
 XXII. " Quel age as tu, mon bebe ?" . . 196 
 
 XXIII. At Boulogne-sur-Mer 206 
 
 MR. MEDFORD AGAIN. 
 
 XXIV. Everything up to Date. . . 211 
 
 MISS BRIXTON'S DILEMMA. 
 
 XXV. Meeting Monsieur Martine. . . . 215 
 
 XXVI. A Visit to a Monastery. . . . 227 
 
 XXVII. " The priest told you !" ... 235 
 
 XXVIII. A Great Clue Exploded. . . .244 
 
 XXIX. " He is her husband." . . . .255 
 
 XXX. A Day at Conde Smendou. . . . 263 
 
 MISS BRIXTON'S CONFESSION. 
 
 XXXI. A Gentleman of France. . . . 271 
 
 XXXII. " If you had searched the world." . 280 
 
 XXXIII. Caught in a Trap. . . . . .288 
 
 XXXIV. " He looks like Wallace." . . .299 
 
 READY FOR THE JURY. 
 XXXV. And now Suit Yourselves. . . . 308
 
 TO MY READERS. 
 
 No question raised in recent years has touched 
 thoughtful minds more than this " Is Marriage a 
 Failure ?" When first uttered it seemed to strike at 
 the very foundation of all things. If marriage was 
 a failure, said many, what hope was there for man- 
 kind ? 
 
 And still there have been some who, like Ella 
 Drew, in the novel before you, " have found it 
 heaven I" And there have been others, like George 
 Brixton, whom it has cursed ; and yet others, like 
 his daughter Blanche, who have sought, in all good 
 faith, to escape its trammels. 
 
 Eminent writers in Europe are now discussing 
 whether there may not be some safe modification of 
 the marriage vow. Socialists look with confidence 
 toward a time when an advanced step will be taken 
 through the economic enfranchisement of women- 
 But to most of us it is plain that a few cannot with 
 impunity step aside from the mass in this matter, 
 any more than they can walk ashore from a steam- 
 er's deck before it reaches the pier. 
 
 [vii]
 
 10 STY READERS. 
 
 The other subject of which this volume treat* . 
 also most serious. One of these days the continua- 
 tion of the human race will receive as intelligent 
 treatment as that of the breeding of domestic ani- 
 mals, or I am mistaken. In the meantime under 
 present conditions wedlock is a hideous travesty 
 unless there be common honesty between the parties 
 to it. 
 
 This will reach the first instalment of my second 
 million of readers. The evidence is ample that they 
 are not limited to any section of this country, nor 
 even to the Western continent. In return for the 
 public's kindness I again promise my best efforts in 
 a field where I have found such conspicuous appre- 
 ciation. 
 
 ALBERT ROSS. 
 Cambridge, Mass. 
 Not., 1894.
 
 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 MR. MEDFORD'S STORY. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BEGINNING WITH A MYSTERY. 
 
 "If you want a stranger tale than anything in 
 fiction, you should learn the true history of Miss 
 Brixton's baby." 
 
 Thus spoke my friend, Joseph Medford, as we 
 strolled together along the shore at Lake Leman. 
 We had met unexpectedly at the Hotel Suisse, 
 Geneva, where I was stopping on my way to the 
 resorts higher up the mountains. 
 
 Medford was the last man to whom I should have 
 gone for the plot of a novel. He was a retired 
 merchant, who had made a fortune. It surprised 
 me very much when lie remarked that he had read 
 several of my works, and the conversation that en- 
 sued led to the statement quoted above. 
 
 [91
 
 10 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 " Miss Brixton ?" I repeated, with a smile at what 
 I supposed was his carelessness of pronunciation. 
 "You mean Mrs. Brixton, I presume." 
 
 Medford put on the air of one who does not like 
 to be corrected. 
 
 " If I had meant Mrs. Brixton, I should have said 
 so," he responded, with a certain dignity. " I said 
 Miss Brixton, I believe." 
 
 To this I vouchsafed a single syllable " Ah !" 
 Before my mind there arose the ever-recurring 
 tragedy a girl led away by specious promises or 
 fallen a victim to her own wild and curbless passion. 
 It is a theme that has been used by a thousand 
 novelists, and it seemed impossible that there could 
 be anything essentially new in such an experience. 
 
 " Does the case differ so much, then," I inquired, 
 " from those that have already been made the sub- 
 ject of romance ?" 
 
 "In every particular," replied my. friend. "At 
 least, it is totally unlike anything / have seen in 
 print. Not only this, but I believe it unique as 
 an actual occurrence. If you wish, I will outline it 
 to you." 
 
 My curiosity was now fairly alive. I begged Mr. 
 Medford to begin at once, and not to content him- 
 self with an outline either, but to give me the fullest 
 details of which he was possessed. He answered 
 that this would need considerable time, and I said 
 I was at his disposal, even if it took all night. 
 
 u I cannot tell," he said, " whether it will require 
 five hours or ten to give you the details I have 
 gathered. They are in a somewhat chaotic state in my 
 mind, and will have to be put together slowly. And, 
 as I hinted in the first place, the most interesting part
 
 BEGINNING WITH A MYSTERY. 11 
 
 o- die matter is still veiled in mystery. Perhaps you 
 will be able to unravel the hidden threads and com- 
 plete the story to your own satisfaction ; but cer- 
 tainly, none of Miss Brixton's friends have yet been 
 able to learn the least thing beyond what she has 
 chosen to tell them." 
 
 I asked Medford if he would permit me a few 
 questions in advance of his narrative. 
 
 " By all means," he said. " As many as you 
 please." 
 
 " To begin with, how did you learn the facts you 
 are about to relate ?" 
 
 " From George Brixton, Mrs. Brixton and Miss 
 Brixton, mainly," was the affable response. " The 
 young lady's father made a confidant of me in many 
 things. Her mother I also knew to some extent. 
 Then I have talked by the hour with Stephen Drew 
 and his wife, with Dr. Robertson and Mrs. Rey- 
 nolds. (You will hear more of these people pres- 
 ently.) Blanche that is, Miss Brixton has dis- 
 cussed matters with me as freely as if I were her 
 brother, or even her sister. And the baby Miss 
 Brixton's baby knows me as well as a young gen- 
 tleman of his age could be expected to do, and has 
 jumped and crowed in my arms within the last three 
 weeks." 
 
 I was silent for a moment. Then I remarked in a 
 subdued tone that such cases were very sad, espe- 
 cially when they happened among the better edu- 
 cated and more cultured classes. They made one 
 doubt whether the world was not growing worse 
 instead of better. 
 
 " Miss Brixton would not agree with you," said 
 Medford, quickly. " She is the happiest young
 
 12 OTTT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 mother I ever knew. In her sweet face there is not 
 a single tinge of regret." 
 
 I stared at my friend in astonishment. 
 
 " And she is an unwedded mother !" I exclaimed. 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 "Then her reason must be unhinged," I asserted, 
 soberly. 
 
 " Certainly not in the ordinary sense," he answered. 
 " Aside from this matter of the child, she appears as 
 sensible as any other healthy girl. She conforms 
 in nearly everything else to the prevailing fashions. 
 She dresses, for instance, in the usual mode. She 
 looks, lives and acts like the rest of her sex, so far 
 as I can see. Her signature on a business paper is 
 never disputed. She keeps to herself a good deal, 
 but that is because the majority of women do not 
 like to associate with one who has proved her belief 
 in such ultra, or, as she would call them, ' advanced ' 
 doctrines. Blanche, however, does not care for 
 society. Her time is more pleasantly spent with 
 her child, whom she passionately adores. Sane ? 
 Why, yes. No jury would question her ability to 
 care for herself, her boy or her property." 
 
 I waited a moment, and then inquired who was 
 the father of the infant. 
 
 " That is the mystery," said Medford. " From the 
 little we have learned it appears that the man is 
 dead. Dr. Robertson drew this from her, with a 
 few other particulars of little importance, during a 
 few hours when she stood in imminent danger of 
 dying, and she has never denied or modified her 
 statements. The only trouble is, she will not add 
 the least syllable to them."
 
 BEGINNING WITH A MYSTEKY. 13 
 
 *' She does not appear to mourn him very deeply ?" 
 I suggested. 
 
 "No. Not as a woman would mourn a husband 
 or a lover. The Doctor says the tears came into her 
 eyes when she mentioned that he was no more, but 
 she has not put on crape, either literally or figura- 
 tively. She sings, smiles, dines well, and acts quite 
 the opposite of broken-hearted." 
 
 To this I remarked, after reflection, that her con- 
 duct was not to be wondered at, judged from one 
 standpoint. A fellow of that kind did not deserve 
 to be very sincerely regretted. 
 
 " A fellow of what kind ?" asked Medford, quiz- 
 zically. 
 
 " One who would deceive a girl and then desert 
 her." 
 
 My companion smiled. 
 
 " But this man did nothing of the sort," said he. 
 
 " Did nothing of the sort ?" I echoed. " Did not 
 deceive or desert her?" 
 
 " Neither the one thing nor the other.' 
 
 " Pshaw ! That is a riddle," I replied. 
 
 " Nothing but the simple truth. Miss Brixton 
 freely admits, to all who care to discuss the matter 
 with her, that if there were any deception, it was on 
 her part, not his." 
 
 I nodded ironically. 
 
 " Oh ! It was Miss Brixton who deceived and 
 deserted her lover !" 
 
 " Something of that nature," assented Medford, 
 with another laugh. " But let me say that if you 
 keep on at this rate you will take all the interest out 
 of my story. It is a girl's way, rather than a man's,
 
 14: OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 to skip through the pages of a book and read the 
 last chapter first." 
 
 I admitted the truth of the observation, and said 
 there were only one or two other things that I 
 wanted to know before settling myself into the 
 attitude of a patient and uninterrupting listener. 
 
 " I presume you will tell me next " I added, " that 
 the father of Miss Brixton's child met his death on 
 account of a broken heart, superinduced by his 
 regret at losing her." 
 
 " I would oblige you with the greatest pleasure," 
 replied Medford, "if I were inventing a tale for the 
 occasion. As mine is, unfortunately, a truthful one, 
 I must do otherwise. No ; as I understand it, the 
 pangs of unrequited love did not cut short the career 
 of this person, but a much more prosaic thing a, 
 bullet." 
 
 It was getting interesting indeed ! 
 
 " So she shot him !" I exclaimed. "Well, a man 
 who would permit a woman to deceive, betray and 
 desert him deserved no better fate." 
 
 Mr. Medford's amused face showed me, even 
 before he spoke, that I had fallen into another 
 error. 
 
 " She did not shoot him," he said. 
 
 "Then he shot himself, which was quite the best 
 thing he could do." 
 
 "No, he did not shoot himself." 
 
 " Was there another woman in the case ?" I 
 asked. 
 
 , "It is not believed that there was. When you 
 have heard all I know about this matter in case 
 you are ever ready to let me tell you your theories 
 will be advanced with more precision. Dr. Robert-
 
 BEGINNING WITH A MTSTEfST. 15 
 
 son and I have concluded, by comparing the little 
 we have heard, that Miss Brixton cared about as 
 much for this man as you do for that blonde lady 
 on the opposite side of the way, to whom you have 
 never spoken. He became the father of her child 
 without the least affection on her part, and he did 
 not live many days after she met him. He was dead 
 and buried months and months before little Wallace 
 was born." 
 
 There was a chilly air about the story. I was glad 
 that Medford could assure me that the father came 
 to his death by other hands than those of the fair 
 Miss Blanche, even if it was " by some person or 
 persons to the jurors unknown." Otherwise, 
 thoughts of seraglio life, where guilty lovers of 
 sultanas are sewn in sacks and dropped into the 
 Bosphorus, would surely have obtruded themselves. 
 
 " If all you say is without deception," I said, 
 " there is but one other tenable theory. Miss 
 Brixton was the victim of an atrocious assault." 
 
 Medford laughed once more, the exasperating 
 laugh of one who has a certainty of his secret. 
 
 " Wrong again !" he replied. " In that case the 
 man would surely have died by her hand instead of 
 by that of another. You would agree to this if you 
 had met Miss Brixton. I should be happy to intro- 
 duce you, by the way, if you ever happen to meet 
 us together. Would you care to have me ?" 
 
 I responded that I could tell better about that 
 when I had heard the whole of his story. 
 
 " Very well," said Medford. " In order to get to 
 the end of a tale, one of the principal essentials is to 
 make a beginning ; and that, if you will excuse me
 
 16 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 from answering any more questions at this time, I 
 will now proceed to do." 
 
 I bowed and asked him to proceed. 
 
 And Medford proceeded. 
 
 [The reader will please understand that the following 
 chapters, to the end of the twenty-third, are in the language 
 of Mr. Medford. And to ease the mind of those who 
 remember that his story was begun while we were stroll- 
 ing on the lake shore, let me explain that it was finished very 
 late that night in my apartment at the hotel. A. R.] 
 
 MISS BRIXTON'S PARENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " THE TRAGEDY OF MY LIFE." 
 
 It has been well remarked by somebody (said 
 Medford) that " one cannot be too careful in select- 
 ing his grandparents." Miss Brixton's chief error 
 was in the choice of her father and mother. Her 
 more remote ancestors, so far as I have been able to 
 ascertain, were people who got along without mak- 
 ing any particular impression upon the community ; 
 an eminently proper thing, let me remark, for ances- 
 tors to do. A person is better off, I contend, with 
 progenitors of that kind, than with those who hav
 
 "THE TRAGEDY OF MY LIFE." 17 
 
 been either great geniuses or great rascals. He 
 will have neither the bad reputation of the one to 
 live down, nor the impossibly high standard of the 
 other to emulate. But Blanche's father and mother 
 got into trouble over her at a very early stage in her 
 career, and their conduct must have contributed 
 toward making her what she is to-day. 
 
 Before I had known George Brixton a week I 
 knew that he was not on the most cordial terms 
 with his wife. How did I find this out ; by making 
 inquiries? I made just one, the answer to which 
 informed me that he was not a widower. 
 
 Upon his desk were several photographs of his 
 daughter, but nothing that indicated the nature of 
 Mrs. B.'s lineaments. I commented upon the 
 beauty of the child, and saw the devoted look in 
 his face as he turned toward the pictures. 
 
 " Is she your only one ?" I asked, and there was a 
 most peculiar expression to his eyes as he answered, 
 " Yes, my only one !" 
 
 Before I had called many times, Brixton began 
 to give me more particulars about this child. He 
 seemed delighted to tell of what a comrade she was 
 to him, of excursions they made together, of even- 
 ings spent at home in her company. Never did he 
 make the faintest allusion to his wife, and the whole 
 tenor of his remarks indicated that he had none. 
 
 There are people one " takes to," as if by instinct. 
 I got to liking Brixton in a very brief time. Soon a 
 friendship sprang up between us such as does not 
 often follow a mere mercantile transaction. This is 
 the more noteworthy because, as he often told me, I 
 was one of only three or four men with whom he had 
 ever been in the least degree confidential. His face
 
 18 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 brightened whenever I entered his office, and ottie/ 
 business was always laid aside until my departure. 
 
 When I asked him to go to lunch with me, he re- 
 plied that he invariably took his meals at home. 
 
 "Blanche expects me my little girl, you know," 
 he said, with infinite tenderness. "I never disap- 
 point her. When I turn the corner I can always see 
 her face at the window, in winter time like this, and 
 in summer she runs to meet me. I fear we appear 
 silly to the neighbors, now that she has grown so 
 big. I have been told that I care too much for her, 
 and perhaps I do. My feelings come very near to the 
 prohibition against idolatry." 
 
 After this confidence I could not help remarking 
 that it would give me great pleasure to see Miss 
 Blanche, for whom I admitted I had conceived a 
 warm admiration. Brixton did not reply to my sug- 
 gestion for a moment, and I could see his face red- 
 dening as he realized that a question of politeness 
 was at issue. 
 
 "I did not hesitate," he said, finally, "because I 
 have any doubt that I should like to have you come, 
 or that Blanche would be glad to see you. The fact 
 iSj we receive hardly any visitors. However, an ex- 
 ception shall be made in your case, and you may 
 choose as early a date as you desire." 
 
 Having said this, Mr. Brixton launched into sev- 
 eral complimentary expressions, which were very 
 agreeable to me, coming from a man I esteemed so 
 highly. I assured him that I should regard the priv- 
 ilege of entering his home all the more from the fact 
 that it was one so seldom accorded. 
 
 "You put the case too strongly," he smiled. "We 
 are very plain people. You will see an ordinary
 
 "THE TRAGEDY OP MY LIFE." 19 
 
 house, with nothing extravagant in the furnishings. 
 There is but one jewel within its walls that child of 
 mine." 
 
 " She must be very dear to you," I remarked. 
 
 "She is everything to me," said he, gravely. "I 
 guard her with the greatest care, and yet not in the 
 way that most fathers would think of following. 
 While I take pains that her companionships shall be 
 of the best, I have not kept her ignorant of the fact 
 that Sin forms a part of the arrangements of nature. 
 She is hardly thirteen, and yet she is as wise indeed, 
 in a true sense, wiser than many young women of 
 twenty. The knowledge that is allowed to come to 
 most girls in a perverted and distorted shape has 
 been imparted to her so gradually that it contains 
 nothing gross. When you have seen her I want you 
 to say whether she is not as thoroughly unspoiled as 
 if she had been lied to and cajoled out of informa- 
 tion as necessary to her well-being as the air she 
 breathes. I have been warned that it is a great 
 mistake to be so frank with her, but I do not believe 
 it. If my experiment were to fail, there would be 
 some signs of it before now. If there is a danger 
 point, she has passed it." 
 
 As I did not pretend" to understand the subject, 
 and indeed, did not thoroughly comprehend at the 
 time what he meant, I was silent. He repeated that 
 he was at home nearly every evening and should be 
 glad to see me at my earliest convenience. 
 
 " There are so few entertainments to take a young 
 girl to," he exclaimed, with a sigh. " One tires of 
 concerts, be they ever so good. The theatres have 
 reached a point where many of the plays are out of 
 the question. We have done the art galleries re-
 
 20 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 peatedly. There is no choice but to stay at home. 
 Come any evening you like, you will be certain to 
 find us in." 
 
 A night was chosen, the third one from the day 
 on which we held this conversation, and at eight 
 o'clock I ascended the steps of Mr. Brixton's resi- 
 dence. He was watching, and came immediately to 
 meet me. As soon as my wraps were disposed of he 
 took me into his library, and before sitting down 
 went for his daughter. 
 
 " Here is my child," he said, leading her in. 
 " Blanche, my friend, Mr. Medford." 
 
 Even if I had never heard anything about the 
 girl if I had been sitting there on ordinary busi- 
 ness and had merely noticed her enter the room I 
 should have been strongly attracted toward her. 
 My powers of description are wholly inadequate to 
 convey to you the impression she made upon me. 
 With the form and stature of a child of thirteen, she 
 had a look and manner several years older. Though 
 her face was not understand this perfectly one 
 of those prematurely aged ones that make us wish 
 the vanishing youth would tarry until its proper 
 time for departure ; it was as fresh and rosy as any 
 infant's. 
 
 Before she spoke I noticed her extreme self- 
 possession, the perfect confidence, the absence of 
 timidity, and yet nothing like posing. The words 
 that issued from her lips were correct in enunciation, 
 but neither pedantic nor strained. Her tones were 
 sweet and natural. She gave me her hand frankly, 
 with a clasp something like that of a boy, attribut- 
 able, no doubt, to the close companionship she had 
 had with her father, rather than with girls of her
 
 "THE TBAOKDY OF MY LIFE." 21 
 
 age. I felt toward her as I had done toward Mr. 
 Brixton when I first knew him I accepted her with- 
 out reserve. 
 
 There was no attempt at formality in the talk that 
 followed. We discussed the affairs of the day 
 exactly as if Blanche had been a grown woman. 
 She surprised me by proving, in the occasional 
 remarks that she interjected, that she was a regular 
 reader of the daily newspapers. She knew, for 
 instance, a good deal about a tariff bill that was at 
 that time being discussed in Congress, and expressed 
 her opinion as to whether it would pass the House of 
 Representatives, which was shown, by the way, in 
 after days, to be a correct one. A ministerial trial 
 for heresy had not escaped her observation. When 
 it was alluded to by me, she showed much interest 
 in it, asking a number of questions as to the points 
 involved that I was entirely incapable of answering. 
 
 She knew the city from north to south, and from 
 river to river, as well as a thousand things I should 
 never have expected would enter the head of such a 
 child. It was very seldom, to put it fairly, that her 
 father and I touched any subject on which she had not 
 a considerable stock of information. And where she 
 did not understand, she was ready with her interroga- 
 tions, anxious to let no opportunity escape to inform 
 herself. 
 
 Two hours passed in this way, to my great enter- 
 tainment. When the clock struck ten Mr. Brixton 
 asked Blanche if she would not like to show Mr. 
 Medford her dolls. Upon which the child smilingly 
 acquiesced, and excusing herself in the most charm- 
 ing manner went to fetch them. 
 
 " Dolls !" I exclaimed, as soon as she was out of
 
 22 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 hearing. " Has she kept the playthings of her child 
 hood till now ?" 
 
 "Her childhood?" echoed Brixton, with a start. 
 *' Her childhood ? Why, she is in the very fruit and 
 flower of it ! Did you think childhood ended when 
 a girl reached her teens ? Blanche cares for her 
 dolls as much as she did five years ago ; in fact, I 
 think she grows fonder of them every day." 
 
 This statement filled me with intense surprise. I 
 had been noting this girl's remarkable stock of 
 knowledge, and had come to consider her a prodigy 
 of learning. She had carried herself in our company 
 with all the ease of ten additional years, retaining 
 still the gentleness and grace of her extreme youth. 
 But, dolls ! How could I conceive that the mind which 
 had been devoted for the previous quarter-hour to 
 the Triple Alliance and the Franco-Russian under- 
 standing would turn with equal interest to the 
 puppets of babyhood ! 
 
 " Papa," said the young voice, as its owner reap- 
 peared at the door, " don't you think, as there are 
 so many, Mr. Medford had better come and see 
 them in their own quarters ?" 
 
 Mr. Brixton and I complied with the suggestion, 
 and a moment later we were in a room such as I 
 certainly had never seen before, though no doubt 
 there are others somewhat like it. The furniture, 
 with the exception of several larger chairs, was of 
 a Lilliputian pattern, and consisted of beds, sofas, 
 bureaus, etc., of a size to fit the mimic occupants, 
 which were at least fifty in number. It was, in 
 short, the most complete dolls' nursery you could 
 imagine. 
 
 "And you still play with them ?" I could not help
 
 "THE TRAGEDY OF MY LIFE." 23 
 
 saying, for the fact was incomprehensible in view of 
 what else I had seen and heard. 
 
 u Of course I do !" laughed the fresh young voice. 
 " I spend two hours here every day. It is the greatest 
 fun ! I have names for them all ; and their histories 
 are written down in this book," showing me a large, 
 ledger-like volume; "and I have medicines in this 
 little chest, when they are sick ; and each has her sum- 
 mer clothes as well as winter ones, as you can see 
 by examining this closet. I think they are the 
 sweetest things in the world except except," the 
 child hesitated several seconds "real, ' truly' 
 babies." 
 
 Blanche had a wistful expression as she said this, 
 that I shall never forget. It was a look like that of 
 a starving child who spoke of food. 
 
 "Quite a nurse, isn't she?" said Mr. Brixton, 
 gazing fondly at his offspring. " And she is just as 
 capable of taking care of living children as of these 
 imitations. We feel the same way about it Blanche 
 and I. You ought to be here some time when we 
 have one of our infant parties. Blanche borrows 
 half the babies in the neighborhood and puts them 
 around the floor here, each with a toy to keep it 
 quiet, and we have the most delightful time. I 
 asked her once what she wanted to be when she 
 grew up we were speaking of professions and she 
 said, 'A mother' " 
 
 The little daughter nodded assent to the state- 
 ment. 
 
 " I do envy the mothers so !" she cried, not 
 attempting to conceal her enthusiasm. " Sometimes, 
 when I have carried all my babies home, I sit down
 
 2i OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 and cry. Even my dear dolls do not seem the same 
 to me after that." 
 
 Returning to the midgets in their cradles and 
 beds, she took them up, one by one, and introduced 
 them to me with great solemnity, giving the names 
 of each, along with bits of personal gossip. 
 
 " Which is the eldest ?" I asked, to show my inter- 
 est, though my mind was wandering far from the 
 subject under consideration. 
 
 " Why, the largest, of course !" she laughed, tak- 
 ing up a doll half as big as herself. 
 
 Brixton declared that the joke was on me that 
 time. Then he said good-night to his daughter, 
 who took my hand again in the same frank way she 
 had grasped it when introduced, and we were left 
 alone. 
 
 " There ought to be a baby in this house, for 
 Blanche to play with," I said, unguardedly, as I 
 stood a few moments later with my overcoat on in 
 the front hall. 
 
 My host staggered as if about to faint, and his 
 face paled. 
 
 " You have touched upon the tragedy of my life, 
 my friend," he said, in a very low tone. " Some 
 day I mean to tell you its history." 
 
 I wanted to say something in the nature of an 
 apology, but could not exactly frame the expres- 
 sions. It was evident, however, that he did not feel 
 the need of anything of the kind, for he said " Good- 
 night " in a kindly voice, as I stepped out into tho 
 snow-laden air.
 
 HOUSEKEEPING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 25 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HOUSEKEEPING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 When I thought over the events of that evening 
 there were several things that I noted particularly. 
 Mr. Brixton had but one member of his family upon 
 whom he lavished his affection. That one, Blanche, 
 was equally restricted in her love. Neither of them 
 had alluded in the remotest manner to a wife or a 
 mother. Mrs. Brixton, who certainly existed, and 
 who as certainly was an occupant of that residence, 
 had not made her appearance during my call. And 
 then there was the strange remark of my friend as 
 I was about to leave. When I said to him that 
 there ought to be a baby in the house for Blanche 
 to love, he responded, in tones that indicated the 
 deepest feeling, that I had touched upon " the 
 tragedy of his life !" 
 
 " Some day," he added, " I mean to give you its 
 history." 
 
 The history of a personal tragedy must be a most 
 interesting thing to hear. The story of a marital 
 estrangement it was undoubtedly, judging by the 
 contemporary evidence. But beyond any feeling of 
 curiosity, I felt an intense longing to know what had 
 made my friend the crushed and silent man I had 
 found him a man with few intimacies, and one 
 whom hardly anyone could say they really knew or 
 understood. 
 
 The promise he had given was fulfilled, though
 
 26 OUT OF AVKDLOCK. 
 
 not in the way I anticipated. He never gave me a 
 consecutive account of his troubles in anything like 
 the form I am going to give them to you. It was 
 by one conversation after another, by hearing a 
 little to-day and more to-morrow, by adding what I 
 learned from others, and by using my own intel- 
 ligence, that I fully comprehended at last what had 
 happened. 
 
 It was not a " tragedy " in the ordinary sense of 
 that abused word. There had been no killing in 
 hot blood, no quick and angry blows. But to him 
 it was a tragedy just the same, in that it deadened 
 the best of his being, and made him for the rest of 
 his days a misanthrope. Of a nature naturally open 
 and frank, sunny to a degree, glad to walk in the 
 brightness of all things human, he had been changed 
 to a cynical man of business, whose only wholly 
 unspoiled side was the one turned toward his 
 daughter. 
 
 It appears that he was born in the village of Mark- 
 ham, in the western part of the State, and was at an 
 early age left a half-orphan. He grew up with the 
 reputation of being a good boy, faithful to his 
 mother, reliable and trustworthy to the utmost. As 
 the family had little in the way of property, George 
 obtained employment, as soon as he graduated from 
 the grammar school, in a chemical works. 
 
 For a while he devoted the whole of his small 
 salary to his mother, who lived with him in a cottage 
 she had inherited, doing her own work and caring 
 for nothing but her boy. By the time he had reached 
 his twenty-fifth year, everybody had set George 
 Brixton down for a confirmed bachelor. He never
 
 HOUSEKEEPING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 27 
 
 would marry as long as his mother lived, that was 
 certain. 
 
 Their household was a most methodical affair. 
 Mrs. Brixton was one of those women who have an 
 instinct for order. She had a place for everything, 
 and everything was always in its place. Her break- 
 fasts were on the table at half-past six in summer, 
 and seven in winter. The date at which the hour 
 was changed was taken from the almanac, coming as 
 regularly as the astronomical alterations. She had 
 her washing done on Monday, her ironing on Tues- 
 day, and her baking on Wednesday and Saturday 
 as regularly as those days arrived. 
 
 On a certain day in April, Mrs. Brixton cleaned 
 house. On a certain day in November she unpacked 
 her furs. From the time he was old enough to 
 understand anything, George knew substantially 
 what each day in the year would bring forth in that 
 house. He fell into his mother's habits as easily as 
 he fell into the habits of breathing and walking. 
 Indeed, until she was in her grave, it never occurred 
 to him that any house could be much differently 
 arranged. 
 
 Perhaps it was this quality that first attracted the 
 attention of George's employers to him, and laid the 
 foundation of his improved circumstances. No time 
 was ever lost in Brixton's department. He could 
 answer any question concerning his part of the 
 building without delay and with mathematical 
 accuracy. There was no waste, either through neg- 
 ligence or inadvertence. In every drop of his blood 
 there was written the proverb, " Take care of the 
 small things and the large ones will take care of 
 themselves."
 
 28 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 "If all my employes were like Brixton," said the 
 manager once, "this concern would clear ten thou- 
 sand dollars a year more than it now does." 
 
 With this carefulness about little things, with his 
 horror of leaks, there was still a generous vein in 
 this young man. He often remained for hours 
 after work was over to teach a new employe to 
 perform his duties better. If from those who were 
 placed under him he exacted the fullest obedience 
 and the best service, he was ever ready to praise 
 work well performed. Though he was not on terms 
 of close intimacy with anyone at the factory, not a 
 man there would have been more deeply regretted 
 had anything occurred to take him away. 
 
 He had but a few hours' warning of his mother's 
 death. When he found himself alone he was 
 stunned for a time. For some months he refused to 
 allow anyone to take her place. He cooked his own 
 meals^ as well as he could, rather than have the 
 culinary articles she had used touched by other 
 hands. Then he dined outside, still sleeping in the 
 cottage, and spending most of his evenings there 
 alone. This grew monotonous, and people began to 
 say in such a way that it reached his ears that he 
 ought to get married. 
 
 Get married ! Oh, no ! The idea was too strange, 
 
 He had never walked home even from church or 
 singing school with any woman but his mother. He 
 had never seen but one girl that he would have 
 thought of in such a connection, were it possible to 
 think of anyone, and she was now the wife of 
 Stephen Drew, one of the travelling men in the 
 employ of the chemical company for which he 
 worked. When people grew bold enough to tell him
 
 BtmSEKBEPTlCG UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 29 
 
 to his face that he ought to have a wife, he admitted 
 in his heart that if Ella Drew were still single he 
 might have asked her. This was as far as he could 
 
 go- 
 But Ella was out of the question, and the life he 
 
 lived was becoming unbearable. He thought of 
 engaging a housekeeper. A second cousin of his 
 father's applied for the situation, and during the 
 next year this woman superintended his home. 
 
 On the whole it was worse than boarding out. 
 Miss Fillmore was not at all like his mother. Her 
 bump of order was situated in a cavity. After she 
 had been three days in the house George could not 
 find anything he wanted. She was determined to 
 make the place look tidy, and to secure this result 
 she put things away in places no one else would 
 have thought of, promptly forgetting where. George 
 fretted over this mildly, at first and begged her 
 not to interfere with his personal property, but the 
 fault was ingrained in her nature. Then, meals were 
 served with astounding irregularity. Frequently 
 he had to " snatch a bite," as he called it, and hasten 
 to the factory at high speed, because the articles she 
 was cooking were not " quite " done, 
 
 To a man whose life had been regulated by the 
 clock these things were extremely annoying. Miss 
 Fillmore showed, when remonstrated with, that she 
 considered his requests unreasonable. To her, a 
 half-hour either way in a meal was a matter of no 
 importance. She did not believe, she used to say, 
 that the manager would discharge him if he were a 
 few minutes late once in a while. And if George 
 hunted the house, from garret to cellar, for some- 
 thing he had left on the table in his experimenting
 
 3U OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 room six hours previous, Miss Fillmore's demeanor 
 showed that she did not appreciate his condition of 
 mind. She was like an automatic instrument that 
 continually runs behind. 
 
 There are men who could face a lion with firm 
 nerves, but are driven distracted by the continual 
 buzzing of a mosquito. George Brixton was one of 
 these men. He spent a great deal of time, when at 
 home, with chemicals, hoping to invent something 
 that would bring him a revenue greater than he 
 could expect to receive as a mere employe. When 
 he found, at a critical moment, that an important 
 part of his work had been interfered with, his tem- 
 per was sorely tried. Generally it seemed too small 
 a matter to get into a rage about ; and besides, it was 
 contrary to his nature to show anger to a woman. 
 No matter what the trouble was, he always saw 
 something of his venerated mother in the person of 
 any member of her sex. 
 
 It is the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines. 
 When a certain type of person has borne all he can 
 he breaks in a twinkling. George had worked late 
 at night for six evenings over a combination of 
 chemicals from which he had great hopes. He had 
 told Miss Fillmore several times each day that she 
 must on no account disturb the shelf on which he 
 had placed his bottles. At the last moment he dis- 
 covered that she had done the mischief. The work 
 of a week, under the most favorable conditions, had 
 gone for naught. 
 
 When he stepped out into the sitting-room where 
 his housekeeper was, she saw an unusual commotion 
 in his countenance.
 
 HOUSEKEEPING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 31 
 
 " You have been interfering with my things 
 again," he said, in a low voice. 
 
 " I only straightened them up," she answered, 
 with a defiant air. " It is not possible that I did 
 any harm, and the shelf had to be dusted." 
 
 He could not trust himself to reply, but that 
 noon he took all the materials with which he had 
 worked at home, and carried them to the factory, 
 where he began again the work that had been inter- 
 fered with. 
 
 A thousand annoyances followed, however. He 
 could not spend all his evenings away from home, 
 and he did not wish to, if only for the looks of the 
 thing. But, if he stayed in, there was invariably 
 something to ruffle his disposition. It was his cus- 
 tom to don a pair of slippers after tea, take his 
 evening paper and occupy himself with it for an 
 hour. Now, it became the rule, rather than tha 
 exception, that when he got ready for his paper it 
 was not to be found. Miss Fillmore, on being 
 appealed to, would say she did not remember seeing 
 it, and doubted if it had been delivered ; or else 
 that she might have put it into the stove by mistake, 
 taking it for an old one. Sometimes she had 
 wrapped up a parcel with it, to give a messenger 
 who had taken it away. 
 
 Miss Fillmore believed in her inmost heart that 
 George Brixton made a fuss about such things 
 because it was his nature to find fault. The price 
 of the newspaper was two cents, and to her mind 
 that represented its full value. She did not stop to 
 think that there were no others for sale in the vib 
 lage and that an hour's time was spoiled. When he 
 had endured this as long as he could, he had a bo*
 
 32 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 made with a lock and key, in which the carrier put 
 the paper securely when he made his rounds. 
 
 It would require a book as large as this one 
 merely to give a list of the things of this kind that, 
 as Brixton used to say, " tore him up by the roots." 
 
 When anything could not be found in its proper 
 pl ace a nd this became the normal condition of the 
 establishment Miss Fillmore had a stereotyped 
 answer that drove him wild " I will hunt for it." 
 The shirts sent back from the laundry might be in 
 the parlor or the pantry, but never in the drawer 
 where they belonged. When, after a prolonged 
 search, one was discovered, no cuff or collar was 
 ever in its vicinity. At one time George began to 
 think he could find his things by looking for them 
 in the place most unreasonable to conceive of, and 
 occasionally this plan served. But there was no 
 rule even to the irregularities of the house. 
 
 A case that will illustrate the point as well as any 
 was his night-dress. 
 
 Last night, for instance, he had found it hanging 
 under a lot of other things in the closet of his bed- 
 room. To-night he would look there for it, though 
 quite certain it was not there, and he was right. 
 After a hunt he would find it rolled in a wad under 
 one of the pillows. To-morrow he would look in 
 the closet, then under the pillows, then everywhere 
 elie he could think of, and have to go to bed with- 
 out it. In the morning the maiden lady who was 
 responsible for his annoyance would remark casually, 
 as he watched the clock, that she believed she must 
 have worn it herself, though she could not see how 
 it got into her room. Which certainly was not 
 amusing.
 
 HOUSEKEEPING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 33 
 
 When he had stood this as long as he could, 
 Brixton put an end to it. He paid Miss Fillmore 
 twice as much as he had agreed to, and requested 
 her to remove from his domicile forthwith. All he 
 had gained by her presence there was the founda- 
 tion of an irritable temper, such as he had never 
 before known, and her everlasting hatred. 
 
 Going back to cooking his own meals again, for he 
 did not like to run the gauntlet of the boarding- 
 house questionings, George thought from time to 
 tiine of the only remedy that seemed sufficient for 
 his case. He wanted a home a real home. It was 
 not enough to see the familiar walls, the same pic- 
 tures and furniture, the same lamp on the table. 
 He wanted a home that would in some measure take 
 the place of the one he had lost. He wanted it with 
 a hunger that grew fiercer every day he lived. 
 
 Sitting alone at night he took a mental appraisal 
 of the marriageable young women in Markham. He 
 thought them over one by one, and rejected them 
 all as unsuitable. He must go farther if he was to 
 take a wife. But where ? He was as ignorant as a 
 babe of everything beyond his familiar horizon. 
 
 Suddenly he started as the first feasible idea came 
 to his brain. He would go and talk with Ella 
 Drew about it. Her husband was absent nearly all 
 the time, except Sundays, travelling on business. 
 George knew Ella better than he knew any other 
 person in the world. It was the only house in 
 Markham at which he was in the habit of calling. 
 
 He breathed easier as the conviction grew that 
 she would be able to advise him. Yes, he would 
 talk with Ella Drew.
 
 34: OUT OF WEDLOCK, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 GEORGE AND EMMA. 
 
 Brixton had known Mrs. Drew when she was 
 Ella Smiley. They had attended school together, 
 though she was in the primary when he was in the 
 grammar .grade. She had always liked him, and 
 while she was superlatively happy with her husband, 
 she could remember when she had stood at her gate 
 to have little talks with George as he came past, 
 wondering if he would ever ask her to marry him. 
 He was so good, and so kind, such a pattern of all a 
 young man should be ! 
 
 But matters turned out as they often do 
 George was wedded to his mother, and Mr. Drew 
 began to make love to her, and she accepted him. 
 She had never regretted it, not for one of those 
 brief instants that most married people can recall. 
 And now there was another reason why she adored 
 her husband and watched eagerly for his step when 
 he came home at the end of his trips. After three 
 years of disappointments, both of them were filled 
 with joy, for Ella was to become a mother. 
 
 " You are getting terribly sober, George," she 
 said to him, when he made the call he had decided 
 upon, the one at which he meant to ask her opinion 
 about marriage. She was as frank as if he had beetl 
 her brother. " It's not to be wondered at, either, 
 alone as you are so much in that empty house of 
 yours."
 
 GEORGE AND EMMA. 35 
 
 " I know it," he replied, simply. " People say- 
 that I ought to marry." 
 
 Mrs. Drew eyed him searchingly. Many things 
 passed through her mind in the few seconds that 
 followed. 
 
 " What do you think about it ?" she asked 
 cautiously. 
 
 ''' I don't know. It is lonesome, certainly. I want 
 you to advise me. If if I should decide that I 
 wanted a wife I don't know where to find one. 
 There's nobody left in Markham that isn't already 
 married or engaged." 
 
 The lady nodded to show that she agreed with 
 this statement. There was nobody in Markham 
 good enough for George Brixton, and she did not 
 know as there was outside of it, either. 
 
 " Yes, that is true," she said, thoughtfully. "You 
 would have to go to Springfield, or Worcester, or 
 Boston." 
 
 To Boston ! What a very long distance that 
 seemed ! 
 
 "Have you thought just what sort of a girl you 
 would like ?" continued Mrs. Drew, still lost in won- 
 der at the unexpected situation. 
 
 Brixton looked at the speaker. She was young 
 and fair, with a tinge of rose in her cheeks ; round, 
 sweet and wholesome. 
 
 "I would like one," he answered, candidly, "just 
 
 At this Ella turned the color of a peony. 
 
 "You must not flatter me," she stammered. 
 
 " Oh, no," he answered, quickly ; " I do not mean 
 it that way. I was thinking about it last night, at 
 my house, when I sat there alone ; and I remem-
 
 36 OTTT OP WEDLOCK. 
 
 bered, one by one, all the Markham girls that have 
 married during the last five or ten years ; and I 
 thought you were the nicest of them all. Yes, 
 Ella," he continued, dropping into the familiar name 
 by which he had always called her, " I am too late 
 far Markham. As you suggest, I should have to go 
 outside." 
 
 She would have liked to kiss his innocent, honest 
 face, and had her husband been there she was sure 
 she would have done it. 
 
 "You were a good son, George," she said, "and 
 that is proof that you would be a good husband. If 
 I hear of anyone that I think you would like, I will 
 let you know. It seems so odd, though, to imagine 
 you married !" 
 
 There was something that he wanted to ask her, 
 and he did not know how to put it into the best 
 form. 
 
 " It's all right is it ?" he inquired, lamely. " I 
 mean marriage is a good thing ? You know there's 
 been considerable in the papers about its being a 
 failure." 
 
 She looked gravely at the earnest eyes. 
 ' I have found it heaven !" she responded, with 
 reverence. "There must be some grave fault where 
 it is otherwise." 
 
 George Brixton was not so ignorant but that he 
 knew of Mrs. Drew's approaching motherhood. As 
 she uttered that statement with the lovelight in her 
 eyes, and the smile of perfect content on her lips, 
 she seemed more angel than human. As he walked 
 home he resolved that he would marry, that he would 
 know the experiences that could bring such hap- 
 piness. He entered his solitary home, the walls of
 
 GEORGE AND EMMA. 37 
 
 which had never seemed quite so silent. They must 
 echo to the sound of a new voice, they must feel the 
 glory of another presence ! 
 
 Within a few weeks a former friend of Mrs. 
 Drew's a young lady with whom she had spent a 
 year at boarding-school came to make her a visit. 
 As Brixton passed the window one evening, on his 
 way home, Ella called Miss Walker's attention to 
 him. 
 
 " There is a man in a thousand," she said. " Do 
 you know any very nice girl who wants a husband > 
 I have promised to look up a wife for him." 
 
 Miss Walker had had her experience falling des- 
 perately in love two years before with a young man of 
 the town where she resided, who, after the wedding- 
 day was set, suddenly disappeared and never was 
 heard of again. For some time she took a violent 
 dislike to all the male sex, and was heard to declare 
 that she would live and die an old maid, no matter 
 what offers she had. But she was still young only 
 twenty-three and this story interested her. 
 
 Before long Miss Walker obtained an introduction 
 to Mr. Brixton. Her visit to Markham lasted more 
 than a month, and when she returned home she wrote 
 to Ella Drew that they were engaged. 
 
 " You are not to mention it to anyone, for the 
 world," she said. " It is to be kept a - secret for the 
 present. I know you will be surprised, and I feel a 
 little that way myself. I had determined to live 
 single, but perhaps I shall be happier in the married 
 state. You can talk to him about it, but to no one 
 else, mind, until I give you leave." 
 
 Mrs. Drew, to put it mildly, was not pleased at 
 this news. She had not suspected what was going
 
 38 OUT OF WKDLOCK. 
 
 on, and women do not fancy being humbugged in 
 such matters. George was so slow with the female 
 sex that she could not understand how he had 
 made such progress after knowing Miss Walker but 
 iour weeks altogether. Emma was not the life- 
 partner she would have picked out for him, and yet. 
 had she been pressed for a reason, she could not 
 have told you why. She felt piqued at not being 
 consulted before the fatal words were spoken. But 
 she was too good a woman to let these thoughts 
 mar her congratulations, and the first time she saw 
 George she told him he had her warmest wishes for 
 a happy future. 
 
 " I suppose it seems rather sudden to you," he 
 said, in a tone of apology; "but during the lasC 
 month I have grown so lonesome I can hardly live. 
 Then I knew that Emma I mean Miss Walker 
 was a dear friend of yours, and that was commenda- 
 tion enough for her. We are only to wait two 
 months is that too soon ? She said September was 
 a very good time of year." 
 
 Mrs. Drew could see it all now. Miss Walker had 
 done most'of the courting. Certainly George would 
 never have made such rapid progress with a less 
 interested girl. Well, it might turn out all right. 
 There was no use in worrying over it. But, say all 
 she could, Emma was not the wife Ella would have 
 chosen for this man. 
 
 " She was a dear friend of yours !" Sweet and 
 pathetic reason. How dearly she hoped he would 
 never regret the step ! As for Emma, there was no 
 question that the marriage was a good one for her. 
 There were few men like George Brixton. 
 
 It was in September, the month she had selected,
 
 GEORGE AND EMMA. 39 
 
 that George brought his young wife to Markham, 
 and took her to the home his mother had made 
 sacred to him. She was to take the place and more 
 than the place of that revered parent. 
 
 Mrs. Brixton the second was naturally a quiet girl. 
 Previous to her wedding the conversations between 
 the lovers had been of extremely limited extent. 
 On his part everything had been taken for granted. 
 He thought, in his simple-mindedness, that the 
 duties of wives and husbands were fixed by immut- 
 able law. He had heard, to be sure, of cases that 
 did not come up to the proper standard, but he 
 believed them confined to a lower class of society, 
 with which he had nothing to do. He weighed the 
 solemn words of the minister before whom their 
 vows were taken, and never dreamed that there could 
 be evasion of the least thing that was spoken. And 
 there were other things, not alluded to, established 
 by custom so clearly that to repeat them would be 
 the merest nonsense. Being willing to give to his 
 wife all he was, all he had, all he could make 
 himself, he expected the same in return. 
 
 The concern for which Brixton worked signalized 
 the occasion of his marriage by adding five hundred 
 dollars a year to his salary. It rather cooled the 
 delight which he felt when he went home with this 
 news to have Emma receive it with the announcement 
 that the house needed quite that amount to make it 
 habitable, in the way of furniture. He thought his 
 things very good they had been good enough for 
 his mother. And when the wife added that the 
 increase in salary would give him no excuse not to 
 employ a servant, one of those clouds that he had 
 thought gone forever crossed his forehead.
 
 40 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Brixton bought the furniture desired and engaged 
 the servant, for he had no intention of denying 
 Emma anything he could afford to give her ; but he 
 did not change his opinion that the wife might have 
 done the little work there was for the present, with 
 the washings and ironings sent out. He had am- 
 bitions to raise himself above his present position. 
 He believed a few thousand dollars would enable 
 him to realize a fortune out of an invention in the 
 chemical line on which he had spent his leisure 
 moments for years. He had part of the money 
 already saved, and the increase in his salary had 
 meant a hastening of the day when he would have 
 all he required for the purpose. 
 
 Still, he bought the things and hired the servant, 
 as I have said, and the first months of his wedded 
 life were not wholly devoid of happiness. The 
 cottage was brighter for the presence of a young 
 woman of some attractions, and the meals thanks 
 mainly to the servant were well cooked and served 
 en time. 
 
 Not being inclined to talkativeness, the new hus- 
 band did not mind as much as some men might the 
 constant novel reading for which Mrs. Brixton 
 proved herself an adept. He was at the factory 
 most of the day, and at night it was just as well to 
 see her wrapped in a book as anything else, while he 
 went on with his experiments, now conducted with 
 perfect safety at home. There was no danger that 
 the chemicals would be misplaced, for dust might 
 have accumulated an inch deep on them without 
 attracting his wife's attention. It was rather dis- 
 appointing, sometimes, to note the languid look 
 with which she met his delighted cries that he had
 
 GEORGE AND EMMA. 41 
 
 made a successful combination, but he grew used to 
 this. She was not to blame if her enthusiasm did 
 not equal his in a field of which she knew nothing. 
 
 When the great day should come, and he could 
 show her the result of all this tiresome detail, she 
 would appreciate it then ! In the meantime, he 
 could afford to wait. 
 
 There was another thing that troubled him more, 
 something that he could not complain of, even to 
 her, without feeling ashamed. Mrs. Brixton had a 
 disinclination for the physical tokens of love, 
 amounting almost to aversion. George would have 
 hugged a different woman to her heart's content, 
 but all such advances were received in a manner that 
 made him timid. 
 
 At first he gave Emma a kiss when he left the 
 house and when he returned, but she offered him 
 her cheek more as if she expected a blow than a 
 caress. If she was reading and she usually was 
 he often had to speak twice before she answered 
 his remark. 
 
 "Emma, I said good-bye," he would repeat, with 
 his hand on the door-knob ; and witfy a slight start, 
 as of one who would rather not be disturbed, she 
 would say, without raising her eyes, " Oh, yes ; 
 good-bye ; certainly." 
 
 It was not marriage as he had conceived it. 
 Earth brings nothing so sweet as the first months of 
 wedded life to those who are happily mated. This 
 blissful period was almost wholly lost to the Brix- 
 tons. They did not quarrel, but neither was there 
 much love-making. There was no pair of birds in 
 any tree in Markham that could not have set them a 
 better example.
 
 42 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 None of their neighbors noticed anything none 
 but Ella Drew, who still had this marriage on her 
 conscience and whose eyes were watchful. She 
 knew things were not exactly right, though she did 
 not understand just how they were. 
 
 George took his wife to church, as do al self-re- 
 specting people in small towns, whether they have 
 any interest in the doctrines preached or not. They 
 also went to some of the parish meetings, and 
 occasionally to entertainments of other kinds. When 
 the weather was fine they walked together in the 
 evening. George had always been a man of sober 
 mien, and the absence of a smile on his face did not 
 surprise his fellow-townsme-n. Mrs. Drew alone 
 noticed that there was a new expression there one 
 she did not like to see. She was the more sorry 
 because she had such an ideal married life of her 
 own, and was now the mother of a beautiful little 
 girl that looked like its proud papa. 
 
 "Something is the matter with George and 
 Emma," she said to herself. " I wish I could help 
 them. Ah ! there is one thing that would bring 
 them completely together," she added, with a ma- 
 tronly blush. "If they ever get a beam of sunshine 
 in the house like my little Mamie, it will end all 
 their differences !"
 
 " TELL ME YOU LOVE HIM !'* 43 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " TELL ME YOU LOVE HIM !" 
 
 But there was not likely to be any such beam of 
 sunshine as baby Mamie in the home of the Brixtons. 
 There are people who say that sun fades the carpets, as 
 no doubt it does, and who take particular pains that 
 it shall never shine in at their windows. There are 
 many houses in America where shades are kept 
 closed tightly and blinds pulled down, from January 
 to December, lest a little of God's purest and sweet- 
 est light should penetrate and make its presence 
 known. Thanks to Emma Brixton, her house was 
 one of these. 
 
 " Mamie is looking finely," said Emma to Mrs. 
 Drew, one day in the spring that followed. " I see 
 she is beginning to creep already." 
 
 The fond mother gazed with pride at her offspring, 
 sprawling in lovely helplessness on the floor of her 
 sitting-room. 
 
 " Yes, indeed !" she exclaimed. " I don't see how 
 we ever got along without her. A home with no 
 baby seems to me now just no home at all. That is 
 what you want, Emma, to make your house per- 
 fect." 
 
 Mrs. Brixton shook her head with decision. 
 
 " Never !" she said. " If I had had any fear of 
 that, I should not have married." 
 
 Mrs. Drew recoiled. She felt danger of contamia 
 ation from one who uttered such blasphemy.
 
 44 OFT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 "You can't imagine how awful your words 
 sound!" she replied. " Marriage, with no children, 
 and no hope of any ! It would be like a desolate 
 orchard, with neither shade nor fruit. 'Besides," she 
 added, impressively, " George is remarkably fond of 
 children." 
 
 " Let him have them, then !" said Mrs. Brixton, 
 with a sarcastic smile. " / never shall, I assure you. 
 There, it is useless to discuss the matter. My mind 
 is wholly made up." 
 
 The young mother felt her lip beginning to 
 tremble. 
 
 " Does does he know ?" she faltered. 
 
 " Why, of course not. I'm not a goose, I hope ! 
 I don't see as it's any of his business." 
 
 After her visitor had gone Mrs. Drew cried for 
 an hour. She was so sorry for George ! She had 
 said to herself a hundred times, " When the baby 
 comes, that will make everything right." With 
 never a child to bring their hearts together, there 
 would be no real happiness for this couple. At tea- 
 time, when Brixton passed on his way home, he 
 smiled to see her at the window with Mamie in her 
 lap, and threw the cherub a kiss that spoke volumes. 
 How unjust life was to some of the best men ! 
 What had this poor fellow done to be condemned to 
 such a marriage? No children! A deliberate, 
 preconceived determination never to be a mother ! 
 Horrible ! Surely God would punish in some fear- 
 ful manner such a wicked woman ! 
 
 On the first of July Brixton came home with a 
 brighter look. He told his wife that his salary had 
 been raised again that it was now to be $2,000 a 
 yean He explained to her, in the fullness of his joy,
 
 " TELL ME YOU LOVE HIM !" 45 
 
 what plans he had made, talked of the hope he had 
 nursed so long. If he could save a third of this 
 salary for three years more, with what he already 
 had, he would feel justified in embarking in his 
 venture. And it would bring him he felt sure a 
 handsome income, and independence by-ancl-by, a 
 time when he could retire from work altogether and 
 spend the rest of his days in peace and comfort. 
 
 He talked so fast at first that he did not notice 
 how little she seemed to appreciate the importance 
 of his communication. 
 
 " You know I have never liked this house," she 
 said, when he paused for breath. "I think the first 
 thing you should do is to build or buy a better one. 
 And there are many things we need that are more 
 important than trying speculations, and perhaps 
 losing it all. I have not said much, because I don't 
 like to keep asking, but my clothes are in a terrible 
 condition, and " 
 
 In one second he saw the truth. She was selfish 
 to the core ! She was absolutely indifferent to him 
 or to his welfare. In all her thoughts he took a 
 secondary place. He recalled a thousand evidences 
 of her carelessness for his wishes. His anger was 
 too great to allow him to utter a word, but he strode 
 from the house and did not return till late. 
 
 That night there was the widest possible distance 
 between them in their nuptial bed. Once when she 
 touched his shoulder accidentally in a dream, he 
 recoiled instinctively. He was like one chained to 
 a fellow-prisoner whom he abominably detests. In 
 the morning he arose at an unusual hour and made 
 himself a cup of coffee, after which he went out. 
 When Emma heard that he had gone it did not dis*
 
 46 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 turb her in the least. She merely settled herself into 
 a comfortable position and took another nap. 
 
 He came home to dinner and to tea, but he said 
 nothing to his wife in any form, nor did she speak 
 to him. After tea he went to his office and remained 
 till eleven o'clock. This arrangement he practiced 
 for the next week without finding that Emma 
 objected. He had an idea that she might express 
 her regret at what had occurred and promise 
 amendment in future ; but the fact was that she con- 
 sidered the injury all on his side. The novels she 
 read were sufficient to console her. If he came 
 home before ten he found her reading ; if after that 
 hour she was asleep. She did not act in a surly 
 manner, but exactly as if she did not care what he 
 did, one way or the other. 
 
 These things wore on Brixton more than he was 
 willing to admit. He thought, with a sigh, that he 
 now had even less of a home than before he married. 
 The presence of one in the house with whom he was 
 on disagreeable terms was worse than solitude. 
 
 He had not by nature a vindictive disposition, and 
 the violence of his anger abated somewhat, but he 
 cherished sentiments toward his wife the reverse of 
 affectionate. Why had she married him ? She had a 
 home with her step-father. Why had she cared to 
 change it for his ? It was clear that she had not 
 loved him, even at the beginning. He recalled her 
 attitude at the threshold of their married life, that 
 of submitting to the inevitable rather than of finding 
 the happy haven she had sought. The more he 
 thought the more puzzled he became. He' wished 
 there was someone to whom he could go for infor- 
 mation.
 
 " TELL ME YOU LOVE HIM !" 4:7 
 
 There was no one but Ella Drew, and he did not 
 want her to know of his dilemma. But how long 
 was this to last ? He was less than thirty years of 
 age. He might live to be ninety. Would that 
 woman sit there, opposite to him, all those years, as 
 sphynx-like as she was to-day ? Would she insist on 
 calling herself his wife and render him none of the 
 grace and sweetness of that position ? 
 
 The most aggravating thing of the whole matter 
 was that the troubles came about such insignificant 
 things. He thought how silly it would seem to 
 another person. And yet it was killing all that was 
 best in him. 
 
 Though Mr. and Mrs. Brixton continued to livb 
 under the same roof, and there was no rupture that 
 the public knew of, marital relations ceased between 
 them. One cannot clasp to his heart a woman with 
 whom he is on terms of open warfare. 
 
 Mrs. Drew had never been to his house since that 
 conversation with his wife, in which the cool deter- 
 mination to remain childless was announced ; though 
 Mrs. Brixton had called on her occasionally, hardly 
 seeming to notice that she was received with less 
 warmth than formerly. Ella did not mean to quarrel 
 with Emma her manner toward her was the result 
 of instinctive aversion that she could not in the least 
 control. Meeting George in the street one evening, 
 on his way back to his office, she stopped to ask 
 about his health. 
 
 " I never saw you looking so badly," she said. 
 "You should go on a vacation. Why don't you 
 take Emma to Boston or New York for a week?" 
 
 Then, all at once, it came out : 
 
 " If I went, I should not take her /" he snapped.
 
 48 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Mrs. Drew's face was very grave. 
 " What is the trouble, George ?" she asked, 
 "Everything!" said Brixton, gloomily. "We 
 should never have married. Everything is wrong 
 everything." 
 
 She looked at him in a puzzled way. Could he 
 have learned the secret that Emma had told her? 
 
 " Won't you explain a little?" she asked. " Your 
 wife comes in occasionally, and she never speaks of 
 an estrangement. She has said nothing to show that 
 she is unhappy." 
 
 " Oh, no. She is happy enough !" he answered, 
 quickly. 
 
 Mrs. Drew murmured that she did not under- 
 stand. 
 
 " And you are looking so very ill," she added. 
 "You positively should consult a physician." 
 
 Brixton looked her full in the eyes. 
 
 " I did not mean to say a word," he said. " Now 
 that it is out, let me tell you this : If I live with 
 her a year longer it will kill me !" 
 
 The lady uttered a profound sigh. 
 
 "You do not love her ?" she asked. 
 
 " / hate her .'" 
 
 She could draw nothing more out of him. But 
 the next day she made herself a committee of one 
 and called on Mrs. Brixton for a decided talk. 
 
 Emma told her old friend that there had been no 
 special friction that she knew of. George was a 
 peculiar fellow, who made a great deal of trifles ; 
 but she thought he was improving a little in that 
 respect as time went on. He did not spend many of 
 his evenings at home, but this was on account of
 
 MR. BRIXTON UNDERSTANDS. 49 
 
 things he had to do at the office, and as she went 
 early to bed she did not mind it. 
 
 " But you love him, don't you ?" asked Mrs. Drew, 
 feverishly. " He is your husband. Tell me that 
 you love him !" 
 
 " Love him ?" repeated Mrs. Brixton, slowly. "I 
 like him well enough, when he is not ill-tempered." 
 
 Mrs. Drew threw up both hands with a gesture of 
 despair. 
 
 "You have only been married a year, Emma !" 
 she cried. "You and George ought to love each 
 other with all the passionate devotion conceivable ! 
 When he comes in to-night put your arms around 
 his neck and kiss him on the lips ! You are losing 
 the best gift that God gives to a woman when you 
 allow the slightest cloud to come between you and 
 your husband !" 
 
 Mrs. Brixton smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. 
 
 "I don't think I understand that kind of love," 
 she replied, thoughtfully. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MR. BRIXTON UNDERSTANDS. 
 
 Although Mrs. Brixton was not very impression- 
 able, the talk that Ella had with her produced a 
 certain effect. George noticed a difference in her 
 manner as soon as he entered the house. He was 
 more than willing to forget all that had passed 
 if he could hope for a change in the future, and he
 
 50 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 began to talk to Emma in the old way. His pleas- 
 ure was great when he saw that she showed an 
 interest in what he had to tell, and instead of 
 returning to his office that evening he remained at 
 home. When Emma retired for the night he gave 
 her the first kiss she had received from him in 
 months. Had he not been a little ashamed and 
 afraid, he would have accompanied her to her room 
 instead of going in a very lonely mood to his own. 
 
 The next day he thought the matter over a great 
 deal, and resolved that he would never get into 
 another such quarrel, no matter what the provoca- 
 tion. He had passed through, an experience that 
 was simply horrible. To find daylight again he was 
 willing to make almost ^ny sacrifice. Within a 
 week he had improved so v. uch in appearance that 
 people began to mention it in the way of congratu- 
 lations. Mrs. Drew was one of these, and no person 
 in Markham could have been more pleased. 
 
 "Things are better, I am sure," she said to him 
 brightly, coming to the gate, as he was going by. 
 " Oli, George, I am so glad !" 
 
 He admitted that things were better. His home, 
 he reflected, was far from the ideal ; but it was better 
 it was endurable, and we judge things largely by 
 their contrast with what we have passed through. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Brixton became man and wife 
 again. George kissed Emma whenever he left 
 the house, and sometimes not always when he 
 return^ 1. He did not like to have her think he 
 was overdoing it. He knew he had never really 
 been .n love, but he had ceased to hate his wife. 
 And this was certainly a very great gain. 
 
 On the first of January the chemical concern sur-
 
 MB. BBIXTON UNDERSTANDS. 51 
 
 prised Brixton by offering him a much better posi- 
 tion, if lie would go to New York. He had never 
 thought of living anywhere except in his native 
 town, and the world seemed very wide when its 
 doors were thus suddenly opened. The additional 
 salary was certainly an inducement, for it made him 
 hope again that something might be saved out of it 
 toward the fund he longed to accumulate. 
 
 He wanted to please Emma, and he had no idea 
 how she would like such a change. That evening he 
 talked with her about the city, intending to learn her 
 views upon that matter before he told her of the 
 offer that had been made him. 
 
 It took but a minute to discover that she would 
 be very glad to move. 
 
 " Don't you like Markham ?" asked George, with a 
 tinge of regret in his tone. 
 
 Personally he thought it the finest spot in the uni- 
 verse ; but then, it was about the only one he had 
 seen. 
 
 " I should like New York much better," she said, 
 quietly. " But there is little use in talking about it, 
 for I suppose we never shall go there." 
 
 When she heard that they could go that he would 
 go, if she wished it there was an hour that came 
 very near being filled with happiness. George was 
 elated beyond measure. There was no question 
 about it now ; he would write to his employers that 
 he would take the place and come as soon as he 
 could make arrangements. In a new location, he 
 thought, with a bounding heart, perhaps Emma and 
 he could make another beginning under better 
 auspices. The great hope of his life was a real, true
 
 52 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 marriage existence. It was not too late, yet, for his 
 wife to redeem herself. 
 
 In all Markham there was no one to whom he 
 bade good-bye with deep regret except Ella Drew. 
 She was so sorry to have him go that he was deeply 
 touched. He could see the struggle to hide her 
 feelings, forcing her eyesand lips to tell how glad 
 she was at his success, and how certain that he 
 would get along splendidly in his new location. 
 She held Mamie up for him to kiss, and her lashes 
 grew wet in spite of herself, as she noticed the ten- 
 der way in which he caressed the infant. 
 
 "You must come and see us when we get settled,'" 
 he said. " We shall not keep house at first, but 
 that will make no difference. And you will write 
 often, won't you ? We shall want to hear the Mark- 
 ham news. Stephen will see us, and tell you how 
 we are." 
 
 During the next three years the Brixtons boarded 
 at various places on the west side, between Twenty- 
 sixth and Fortieth Streets. As far as business suc- 
 cess was concerned it came faster than George 
 had anticipated, but his home affairs never were 
 tranquil for long at a time. There were periods 
 when he became so out of patience with Emma that 
 he thought seriously of running away and never see- 
 ing her or anyone else he knew again. To offset 
 these, there were times when he grew almost fond 
 of her, though these were much briefer than the 
 others. 
 
 The wife's indifference was usually so great that 
 it nearly maddened him. If she had disgraced him 
 in a way that he could take cognizance of if she 
 had thrown kisses to men out of her window, for
 
 MR. BRIXTON UNDERSTANDS. 53 
 
 instance he would have known just what to do. 
 But the everlasting coldness the eternal requests to 
 be let alone the disinclination to be interrupted in 
 the reading of the interminable novels that she still 
 affected these were the things that darkened his 
 life until at times he did not care how soon it ended. 
 
 There was one thing, however, for which he never 
 ceased to hope and pray a child of his own. 
 
 " How strange it is that we have been married 
 almost five years and never had a little one ! " he 
 used to muse, when he met the perambulators in the 
 street with their cherub occupants. "If there was 
 a baby in my home I could forget all other disap- 
 pointments in the joy of that acquisition !" 
 
 Stephen Drew used to see him frequently at the 
 office, and always brought some message from Ella. 
 During the second year another child came to the 
 Drew's, but when it was just beginning to lisp the 
 names of " papa," and " mamma," an epidemic car- 
 ried the elder one away. Up to this time Ella had 
 never accepted the invitation to visit the Brixtons. 
 But when she recovered partially from the illness 
 into which this loss threw her, and the local physi- 
 cian ordered her to take a complete change and rest, 
 she made the trip to New York, leaving the new 
 baby, Minnie, at Markham. 
 
 Mrs. Brixton had always liked Mrs. Drew, though 
 they were so dissimilar in their tastes and habits, 
 and she made her very welcome. As for George, she 
 seemed to him a particularly bright angel, sent 
 direct from the celestial spheres 
 
 In her mourning garments she was the picture of 
 woe. The loss she had suffered was evidently a 
 severe one to her. George pitied her from the hot-
 
 54: OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 torn of his heart, but he said little on the subjec.. 
 He knew that sorrow is often doubled by a thought- 
 less display of too much sympathy. 
 
 The lack of a child in his own home was alluded 
 to several times by Mr. Brixton, in his talks with his 
 guest. He was still as anxious as ever about it, and 
 Ella's blood boiled as she thought of the imposition 
 being practiced upon him. She tried again and 
 again to impress Mrs. Brixton with the falseness of 
 her position, but to no purpose. 
 
 A child ? She? No, indeed I The thought nearly 
 drove her into spasms ! 
 
 Mrs. Drew recovered so slowly that her husband 
 decided that she ought not to return to Markham at 
 present. The associations of their home were too 
 closely allied with the baby's illness and death for 
 her drooping spirits. So Baby Minnie was sent for, 
 and rooms engaged in the house where the Brixtons 
 boarded. A few weeks later this resulted in a propo- 
 sition on Brixton's part to set up housekeeping 
 where his friends could have ample accommodation as 
 long as they chose to remain in the city. His salary 
 was now $4,000 and his prospects of an increased 
 revenue from his discoveries were of the brightest 
 kind. He was tired of boarding, and with the 
 Drews in the house he thought the change a most 
 desirable one to make. 
 
 As for Emma, she did not care. He agreed to get 
 her a housekeeper who would relieve her of all 
 responsibility. The house was engaged, furnished 
 mainly under Mrs. Drew's direction, and the occu- 
 pants moved in. 
 
 The family lived in Bohemian fashion. Mr. Drew 
 was gone, on account of his business, a large share
 
 MR. BRIXTON UNDERSTANDS. 55 
 
 of the time. Mrs. Brixton spent a good many even- 
 ings out, but rarely mentioned that she was going 
 until she had her wraps on. 
 
 " You will have Ella to entertain you," she would 
 remark to her husband, at the door. 
 
 Meals were served, almost literally, "at all hours." 
 Emma rose a long time after George had gone to his 
 office. It was not much like her own marriage, Mrs. 
 Drew thought often, with a sigh. 
 
 " How different this house would be if we only 
 had a baby !" Brixton exclaimed, one evening, when 
 they had lived in this manner the larger part of a 
 year. He and Mrs. Drew were sitting alone. " I 
 don't believe a man ever lived who more ardently 
 desired children !" he added, with a gasp. " Some- 
 times I have thought of adopting a waif, but that 
 would not fill the awful void in my heart. I want a 
 child of my own ! Good God !" he cried, the tears 
 standing to the full in his eyes. " Why is it denied 
 me !" 
 
 The perspiration stood on his forehead in beads 
 as he uttered this despairing wail. Woman to the 
 core, Ella Drew felt the full force of his intensity. 
 
 " There are women who have more children than 
 they desire," pursued Brixton, when he had partially 
 recovered his equanimity. " And there are others 
 who cannot have them, no matter how ardently they 
 wish it. Heaven is very uneven in distributing its 
 blessings. I do not see how the priests can claim 
 that God is a beneficent being." 
 
 Shocked at what sounded to her like blasphemy, 
 Mrs. Drew rose to leave the room. As she passed 
 the chamber that Mrs. Brixton was accustomed to 
 occupy she saw that the door stood wide open. Th
 
 56 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 pity so strongly aroused for the husband overcame 
 her completely. With the step of a sleepwalker she 
 entered the room and took something from the 
 bureau. Then she walked slowly back to the parlor 
 where Mr. Brixton was still sitting, with his head 
 buried in his hands. 
 
 "Before you condemn your Maker" she said, in a 
 trembling voice, " examine this !" 
 
 Raising his head he looked at the package she 
 laid on the table before him. He realized from 
 Ella's excited manner that something unusual was 
 agitating her. Lifting the package to his nostrils 
 he inhaled slowly. He was a chemist, and when he 
 turned his gaze again upon his companion he uttered 
 the word, " Poison /" 
 
 "Where did you find this?" he added, brusquely. 
 " Do not equivocate ! Answer at once !" 
 
 Already frightened at what she had done, Mrs. 
 Drew shut her pale lips tightly together. 
 
 " You got that in Mrs. Brixton's room," he said, 
 with a wild look. " What could she have bought 
 it for suicide ?" 
 
 "No. Murder!" 
 
 The words had escaped her lips, uttered by an 
 impulse she could not resist. 
 
 He stared at her with dilated eyes. All his cus- 
 tomary courtesy vanished. 
 
 " Give it back to me !" she cried, starting up sud- 
 denly. " Give it back to me ! I was mad to touch 
 it ! I did not know what I was doing ! Please, oh I 
 please, give it back !" 
 
 " I will," he answered, severely, " when I have 
 examined further into its nature, and have learned 
 for what use it was intended. Why did you bring
 
 AMONG THE ADIRONDACKS. 57 
 
 it to me, if you intended to surround it with all this 
 mystery ?" 
 
 " Oh, I have made an awful mistake !" she cried, 
 weeping hysterically. " If you value your peace of 
 mind in this life your hope of Heaven give it 
 back to me !" 
 
 His only answer was to motion her rudely to leave 
 the room. Then he went to the place where his 
 chemicals were kept. 
 
 It was hours later when he finished his investiga- 
 tion, but the truth dawned upon him at last ! 
 
 When Ella Drew met Brixton at breakfast the 
 next morning she saw that she could tell him noth- 
 ing. He had the look of a wild animal that has 
 scented its prey and means to fojlow it with stealthy 
 step till it is brought to earth ! 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AMONG THE ADIRONDACKS. 
 
 Each day now made Ella Drew more uncomfort- 
 able. While she could never bring herself to reopen 
 the subject with Mr. Brixton it always stood between 
 them, like the ghost of Banquo. 
 
 Mr. Drew, who was a comfortable, good-natured 
 fellow, had but one creed in the world, which was 
 that his wife was the best and wisest woman living. 
 When she told him that she thought a change would 
 do her good and that she would like to return to 
 Markham for awhile, he acquiesced without demur,
 
 58 OCX OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 and made the few preparations necessary to carry 
 out that end. The family furniture had been left in 
 the homestead and there was little to do but to 
 proceed thither, engage the services of a maid-of-all- 
 work and enter into possession. Accordingly Mr. 
 Drew, Mrs. Drew and Miss Minnie Drew, now nearly 
 two years of age, announced to the Brixtons that 
 they were going home for the present. And the 
 Brixtons, with the same politeness that had made 
 them welcome, permitted them to do as they pleased 
 about severing the slight cord that bound the fam- 
 ilies together. 
 
 Mrs. Drew meant to talk to Brixton before leaving 
 his house, but he studiously avoided giving her an 
 opportunity to be with him alone. He suspected 
 what she had in mind and did not wish to debate the 
 question with her. Ella had moments of alarm when 
 she thought of what he had learned, and feared that 
 after she was gone the gathering tempest would 
 break loose with uncontrollable fury. She knew his 
 state of mind could not be gauged by the calm 
 exterior which he invariably wore. His sentiments 
 toward his wife must be quite the reverse of those 
 which appeared on the polished surface. She 
 wanted to warn him against doing anything rash, 
 but at the last moment she had to write her cau- 
 tion at the station and send it to him by a mes- 
 senger. 
 
 The letter, though brief, was intense and earnest 
 enough to have moved him on any ordinary occa- 
 sion. It recited the long friendship the writer had 
 enjoyed with him, and lamented that in one thought- 
 less instant she had committed an error that no code 
 of hospitality could justify. If he cared for her he
 
 AMONG THE ADIRONDACKS. 59 
 
 would act as if the unfortunate affair had never 
 occurred. 
 
 Brixton read the letter with a cold smile, after 
 examining with a certain interest some stains on it 
 that he took to be tear drops. Then he tore it into 
 infinitesimal bits and scattered them to the four 
 winds of heaven. 
 
 The season when everybody takes his annual out- 
 ing soon approached. Mr. and Mrs. Brixton had 
 arranged to go to a secluded spot in the heart of the 
 Adirondacks, where George could secure an entire 
 rest from business cares. Emma was not particu- 
 larly pleased with the place selected, but she 
 reflected that she could read novels as well there as 
 anywhere else. So she bought an extra large 
 number of the flimsiest kind and packed them into 
 her trunk with dresses principally intended for 
 roughing it. 
 
 Correspondence had arranged everything. A 
 wagon met them at a small station and they rode 
 thirty miles through the woods to the owner's dwell- 
 ing. At night they alighted, quite prepared to be- 
 lieve it when told that their temporary home was 
 several miles from any other dwelling. 
 
 That evening George Brixton walked out of doors 
 and stayed till late. His face was set and his step 
 rigid. What sound was it which rustled in the tree- 
 tops, which stirred the grasses at his feet ? It came 
 to him again and again, shaping that fearful word 
 that Ella Drew had let fall Murder T 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Kelly, who owned this nest in the 
 Adirondacks, were quiet people who had made a
 
 60 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 living for many years by offering the hospitalities of 
 their house to hunters and fishermen. During the 
 winter Mr. Kelly did some trapping, or acted as 
 guide to parties that came, up from the city. He 
 also cultivated a bit of ground that his own hands 
 had cleared of underbrush and broken to the plow. 
 
 Brixton had not come to hunt, as the season did 
 not permit of it, but to fish. The day following his 
 arrival he set off with Kelly for a stream some dis- 
 tance away. When he returned at night he bore 
 few specimens of his skill, but he had a contented 
 look, as if the day had not been wholly misspent. 
 
 Life at this sequestered place was, as might have 
 been expected, uneventful, and several days passed 
 with nothing to mar its perfect serenity. Then Mrs. 
 Brixton went out to meet her husband as he came 
 home, and he saw that her face was troubled. 
 
 " There are thieves here," she said, when he asked 
 her what the matter was. " I cannot leave a thing 
 in my room but it is missing." 
 
 "Indeed!" he replied, with elevated eyebrows. 
 ** What have you lost ?" 
 
 "Some medicine'," she said. "lam subject to 
 dreadful headaches and I had something that helped 
 them very much. It was on the mantel in our room 
 this morning, and now it is gone." 
 
 George laughed at the idea that Mrs. Kelly would 
 purloin an article of such slight value, and as there 
 was no other occupant of the house he bade his wife 
 search thoroughly. 
 
 "Have you no more ?" he asked, thoughtfully. 
 
 " Not a bit. I shall feel uneasy all the time now 
 that I know there are robbers about. It is most 
 annoying. I have looked everywhere. I wish you
 
 AMONG THE ADIROBTDACKS. 61 
 
 would leave here and go to some other place to 
 finish the rest of your vacation," she added, patheti- 
 cally. 
 
 They went to their bedroom, and she showed 
 him the spot where the missing article had been 
 seen that morning. He sat down and eyed her 
 intently. 
 
 "What else have you lost ?" he inquired. "You 
 said there were other things." 
 
 " Nothing worth speaking of," she stam- 
 mered ; "but it is just as unpleasant, for all that. I 
 shall feel like locking the door all the time now." 
 
 He said the idea was not a bad one, though he 
 could not bring himself to believe Mrs. Kelly would 
 commit such an act. He told her on no account to 
 say anything to the landlady conveying her suspi- 
 cion, for the family had been recommended to him 
 in the highest terms. 
 
 The next evening Emma met her husband again, 
 some distance from the house. 
 
 "I am just dying of headache," she said. " I wish 
 you would leave here to-morrow. You don't care so 
 very much about this particular place, do you ?" 
 
 Brixton allowed his fishing-rod to drop to the 
 ground, while he leaned against a tree. 
 
 " Yes, Emma," he said, slowly. " I am very much 
 in love with this section. I haven't felt as well in 
 years as I do here. You can have your medicine 
 sent easily enough. Give me the name of it and I 
 will order all you wish. It will only take three or 
 four days to get it. But, my dear," he added, pass- 
 ing his arm about his wife in a caressing way that 
 astonished her, " you do not look ill. You are the 
 picture of health."
 
 62 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 She shook her head, while the roses climbed over 
 her cheek. 
 
 " You don't know how my head feels," she said, 
 pressing her hands to her forehead. " I have not said 
 much, because I didn't like to disturb you, but the 
 aches are terrible. When they are the worst I can't 
 read at all, and then the dullness here is frightful." 
 
 He took out a memorandum book and pencil, 
 with a look of sympathy. 
 
 " We will have a cargo immediately," he said, pre- 
 paring to write. " What did you say it was called ?" 
 
 Confused beyond measure, Mrs. Brixton stam- 
 mered again. A Brooklyn druggist prepared it. 
 No, he did not know her by name, only by sight. 
 The right way was to return home and go for it in 
 person. She was certain she would die before the 
 express could come. 
 
 Something ailed the husband, surely. He stooped 
 and gave his wife not less than a dozen kisses 
 while they stood there discussing this question. 
 He acted as if he had met her for the first time and 
 fallen desperately in love. Between his caresses he 
 bade her try to remember the name, or at least the 
 location of the druggist, so that he or she could 
 write. He did not like to go home at present. It 
 was certainly too far to go and return again, in the 
 brief time remaining. He would take her with him 
 on his fishing jaunts and she would leave her neu- 
 ralgias in the atmosphere of the mountain woods. 
 
 Mrs. Brixton shook her head sadly. She walked 
 slowly with her husband to the house, but had no 
 appetite for supper. When they were alone in their 
 chamber she cried a little. He had never seen her 
 in these moods and they were like revelations to
 
 AMON& THE ADIRONDACKS. 63 
 
 him. He had been married five years to his wife, 
 and was just beginning to get acquainted with her. 
 On her side, she was almost as much aston'shed. 
 She had never imagined that his kisses could possess 
 sueh ardor, that he would act the part of a lover 
 with all the passion and warmth one reads of in a 
 romance. 
 
 The next day when Mr. Kelly went for the mail 
 to a station ten miles distant, Mrs. Brixton smuggled 
 a note into his hand, addressed to a store in New 
 York. Of course the honest backwoodsman man- 
 aged to let Mr. Brixton know about this letter, and 
 of course it never was sent. But the hopes aroused 
 by it buoyed up the wife's spirits for the next three 
 days, and she did not refuse, when pressed, to go to 
 the fishing streams with her husband. They took a 
 lunch along, and the time was not wholly unenjoy- 
 able. When four days had passed, she began to grow 
 uneasy again. She asked Mr. Kelly if he was cer- 
 tain that he had posted her letter, saying that she 
 expected a package. 
 
 " It may be a little late, ma'am," he told her. 
 " Express things don't git delivered in these parts a? 
 quick's they do in the towns. It'll come all right, 
 but it may be a little behindhand." 
 
 After that the wife declined to go with the fishing 
 party, and George, apparently from pure sympathy, 
 stayed at the farmhouse with her. Indeed, he did 
 not allow her to get out of his sight during the next 
 ten days. At the end of that time she packed her 
 things with eagerness and audibly expressed her joy 
 that the vacation was so soon to end. 
 
 Then there came a series of misfortunes. 
 
 The trapper's wagon was found on the morning
 
 64 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 set for their departure to have broken a tire and to 
 be totally unfit for use over the rough roads. Mr. 
 Kelly swore at his ill-luck, and after trying for two 
 days to mend the break with the tools at his dis- 
 posal, went on horseback to the nearest settlement 
 for a wheelwright. That functionary appeared to 
 take his full time, for it was three days before he 
 arrived. When he got there he discovered that it 
 would be better to carry the wheel away with him 
 and set a new tire at his shop. This was the last 
 seen of him for several days more, and when Mr. 
 Kelly rode after him on another horse he returned 
 with the information that the man was sick abed 
 with a slow fever and might not get well for a 
 month. 
 
 " We must go back to New York !" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Brixton, her patience completely exhausted. 
 " I can ride a horse as far as the railroad. You 
 seem to be very calm about it !" she added, com- 
 plainingly, to her husband. " What do you suppose 
 they will think at the office, to have you over-stay 
 your time like this?" 
 
 u It is our dullest season," responded George, 
 imperturbably, " and the agent told me when I went 
 away to stay just as long as I liked. But we ought 
 to return, and while I have not said much, I am 
 annoyed as well as you. I shall tell Kelly that we 
 must leave to-morrow, even if we have to go horse- 
 back, and he will send our baggage as soon as he 
 can. I don't see," he continued, " why he can't ride 
 over to town and get a carriage to come after us. 
 It is a wonder we never thought of that before." 
 
 This plan, which on the whole suited Mrs. Brixton 
 the best of any yet advanced, only served to make
 
 u UGH ! WHAT CAN YOU DO P* 65 
 
 more delay. Kelly started on the mission assigned 
 to him, but had gone but a few miles when a nail in 
 his horse's shoe compelled him to return, leading 
 the animal by the bridle. The second morning the 
 only other horse on the premises was taken with a 
 colic, induced by getting loose in the night and 
 gorging himself with meal, to which he was unac- 
 customed. Communication was now cut off entirely 
 from civilization, and a week passed during which 
 the Brixtons neither saw nor heard from anyone but 
 their entertainers. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "UGH! WHAT CAN YOU DOt* 
 
 Mrs. Brixton had fretted herself into something 
 very like a real illness by this time. She was pale 
 and wan, refused to eat her meals, and spent consid- 
 erable of her time in weeping. In this emergency 
 George proved the most devoted of husbands. 
 When she was too sick to read, he read to her out 
 of one of her novels. If she made the slightest 
 motion at night he was wide awake, inquiring what 
 he could do for her. And every time the luckless 
 Kelly came within sound of his voice, that individ- 
 ual was rated in a high key for his inability to 
 invent some plan to relieve the distressing situa- 
 tion. 
 
 At last after fully six weeks had elapsed from the
 
 66 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 day the Brixtons came to the Kelly mansion, both 
 of the horses suddenly recovered their heaUhs, and 
 the wheelwright his. The wagon was loaded with 
 its passengers and their baggage, and its prow 
 turned toward the railroad. Mrs. Kelly's affection- 
 ate good-bye and her warmly expressed hope that her 
 guest would soon recover from her indisposition 
 elicited no response from the lady addressed. But 
 the good wife of the trapper consoled herself after 
 the party had gone by counting a handsome roll of 
 bankbills, left by Mr. Brixton, considerably larger 
 than any season's profits she had ever known 
 before. 
 
 It was late at night when our friends reached 
 their residence, and early the next morning Brixton 
 sent for a physician, without telling his wife of his 
 intention. He had a few words with the medical 
 man in the parlor, and then went to call Emma. 
 
 " This is Dr. Robertson," he said, gravely, when 
 his astonished wife made her appearance. " I do 
 not dare wait any longer without having your illness 
 investigated. Mrs. Brixton," he went on, speaking 
 to the physician, " is troubled with severe headaches 
 which last for weeks at a time. Knowing your skill, 
 I have confidence that you will be able to suggest 
 the proper remedy." 
 
 Mrs. Brixton turned a variety of colors. She had 
 A feminine idea of the discerning powers of her 
 visitor's profession. It seemed to her that Dr. Rob- 
 ertson could read her through and through. 
 
 "My trouble is nothing that justifies special ser- 
 vices," she stammered. " Only a slight headache, 
 now and then. I am quite well to-day, for instance, 
 and may not feel the pain again for a month or
 
 " UGH ! WHAT CAN YOU DO !" 67 
 
 two. My husband did not tell me he thought of 
 calling you, or I should have laughed at him." 
 
 Both gentlemen rose, as she left the room. The 
 Doctor and Mr. Brixton had a conversation that 
 lasted for the next hour, during which time Mrs. 
 Brixton was seen to leave the house. 
 
 Soon after the physician went away the wife 
 returned. 
 
 " Emma, will you come here a moment ?" called 
 George Brixton, from the library. " I want to see 
 you." 
 
 She came to him, reddening in spite of herself, for 
 she dreaded the talk she expected. She did not like 
 a conversation in which people differed. Not for a 
 moment suspecting that he knew her secret, she was, 
 nevertheless, disturbed. As she sat down near her 
 husband she laid a package on the table, and George 
 reached over and covered it with his palm. 
 
 " I want tfiis /" he remarked, curtly. 
 
 A she-bear, caught in a trap, could not have pre- 
 sented a greater picture of baffled rage than did 
 Emma Brixton at that moment. She saw every- 
 thing in an instant. She tried to speak, thinking, 
 that she could annihilate him with her sarcasm, but 
 her vocal organs refused their office. Her eyes 
 flushed blood red, her lips parted slightly, the cords 
 of her neck swelled. 
 
 " You see that I know /" added Brixton, gutterally, 
 bending toward the figure opposite to him. " Now, 
 you will not be allowed to touch the contents of this 
 package !" 
 
 In every line of her face was written the word 
 HATE in capital letters. She shrank into the 
 depths of the chair she occupied, as if to get as far
 
 6* OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 from him as possible. And still her lips gave forth 
 no sound. 
 
 " I have been deceived, cheated, robbed by you," 
 cried the husband, in a tempest of rage, " and I will 
 endure it no longer ! You bear a life that belongs 
 to me, and before God I will have it !" 
 
 A 3CW shade of deeper loathing came to the pale 
 llOS, already Convulsed with detestation of the 
 speaker. TtoCthin hands moved slightly, as if they 
 wers in imagination crushing something between 
 them. Then rousing herself, the wife rose majestic- 
 ally, still without uttering a syllable. 
 
 "Sit down!" he commanded, in a voice of 
 thunder. "You are dealing no longer with an idiot, 
 a dupe ! I have not thought this over carelessly. 
 I shall take good pains that you do not circumvent 
 me this time !" 
 
 Pausing between him and the door, Mrs. Brixton 
 glared at her husband. 
 
 " Ugh / What can you do ?" she asked, with a 
 contempt of manner and tone that cannot be 
 described. 
 
 "You will see!" he replied, between his teeth. 
 " I have made my preparations. You are not to 
 leave this room alone. When I go a nurse, strong 
 enough to bend you to her will, takes my place. 
 When it is necessary for her to rest, another equally 
 alert and powerful will watch you in her stead. 
 From this hour we shall divide our time with you. 
 Not for the fraction of a second will you be per- 
 mitted to be out of the sight cf one of us. If you 
 are wise you may go about the house as you have 
 done. If you are obdurate you will be limited to 
 one room, to which your meals will be brought !'*
 
 " UGH ! WHAT OAK YOU DO !" 69 
 
 No snarling leopard in its cage, annoyed by its 
 keeper for the delectation of the gaping crowd, ever 
 looked readier to bite its torturers than did this 
 slight young woman. She showed her teeth in true 
 leonine fashion as she hurled back her answer. 
 
 " Wretch ! Coward ! Stand out of my way ! I 
 will leave you this instant, never to return !" 
 
 " No you WON'T /" he retorted, sharply, rising 
 to bar her exit. 
 
 She laughed a wild, sneering laugh that chilled 
 his blood. 
 
 " Fool !" she cried. " Do you think you can out- 
 wit a woman ; you, as dull a man as ever lived ! 
 Chain me, will you ! Tell me where and when I 
 shall move about ! Hire guards to watch me ! And 
 to what end ? That I may be the mother of your 
 child ! If there were no other way to circumvent 
 you, I would cut my throat ! You don't know the 
 kind of woman I am !" 
 
 Brixton was surprised beyond measure at the 
 passionate anger she had developed, but he had no 
 idea of budging in the least from his position. 
 
 " Know the kind of woman you are !" he repeated, 
 scornfully. "If I did not I might have tried to 
 persuade you by soft words. Had I not been sure 
 there was in your heart no throb that would respond 
 to the higher and nobler sentiments of a wife had 
 I not proved you one of those creatures who devour 
 their own offspring I would have respected your 
 position and given due consideration to your sex. 
 But when one deals with a murderer he finds no 
 place for delicate methods. I shall treat you like 
 any criminal found with the proofs of eruilt upo 
 him."
 
 70 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Mrs. Brixton laughed again, long and mockingly. 
 
 " Where, under what law, do you learn that woman 
 must sacrifice health for a child she does not want ?" 
 she demanded. " It is well enough for a man to 
 talk ! If he had the risk to run he would sing 
 another tune. I have a right to say whether I will 
 or will not bear children !" 
 
 " Not now !" he replied, impressively. " The hour 
 for that consideration has passed. I am your part- 
 ner in the life that has begun, and my interests are 
 sacred. You know that for five years I have worn 
 my heart out praying for another inmate of my 
 home. I have done injustice to Heaven, complain- 
 ing that my chief desire was refused. I would never 
 have contracted marriage but for the belief that 
 children would bless it. When you stood with me 
 before the clergyman at Markham, you took upon 
 yourself obligations that you cannot throw aside at 
 will. Your unborn infant is as much mine as if he 
 lay in your arms ! Emma, discussion is useless. I 
 am not to be moved !" , 
 
 The wife resumed her seat and rocked backward 
 and forward in her chair, tapping the floor nervously 
 with one of her feet. The excitement under which 
 she labored was tiring her. She had begun, also, 
 to feel a little afraid of this man, who had shown a 
 side of his nature that she had never believed 
 existed. 
 
 "You think you can compel me?" she said, pres- 
 ently. " You will find your mistake. I shall outwit 
 you." 
 
 "I am afraid you don't understand me yet," was 
 his cool reply. " I have indisputable evidence of 
 your condition. If you succeed in 'outwitting me/
 
 " UGH ! WHAT CAN YOU DO !" 71 
 
 as you call it, you will commit an offence recognized 
 by the laws of the State. But I assure you I shall 
 not rely upon that. The words you have already 
 spoken convince me that you require the severest 
 measures. I am prepared to apply them." 
 
 The leopard-like snarl returned to the woman's 
 lips. 
 
 "I could utter one scream and arouse the neigh- 
 borhood," she said. " What could you do, then ?" 
 
 " See that you did not repeat it," he replied. " 1 
 would put a gag in your mouth and keep it there !" 
 
 She hissed at him the hate she could not put into 
 verbal expression. Then, with a bound like that of 
 a wild beast, she sprang toward the door of the 
 room. In an instant he caught her. There was a 
 quick collision, physical strength against physical 
 strength. She got one of her arms free and drew 
 blood oq his face with her nails. It was all he could 
 do to escape the teeth that menaced him. Seeing 
 that he must overpower her, Brixton exerted all his 
 strength and bore his wife heavily to the carpet. 
 
 The swoon that followed was too genuine to allow 
 of the least doubt. Ringing a bell the husband sum- 
 moned a strong-looking woman, and together they 
 carried the still form upstairs and laid it on a bed. 
 
 "This is unfortunate," said the attendant. "It 
 will not do to let it happen again. You must not be 
 here when she recovers her senses. Send my sister 
 up, for if she begins to rave, it may take two of us to 
 hold her." 
 
 Brixton obeyed the suggestion, and when his 
 errand was accomplished went back to the library 
 and threw himself, all perspiration and trembling, 
 upon a sofa.
 
 72 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 "God forgive me," he moaned, "for laying sucn 
 rough hands on her !" 
 
 He took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood 
 from his face. 
 
 " I don't mind these scratches," he said, raising 
 himself on his elbow to look into a mirror. " She 
 might have the reddest blood in my heart, and wel- 
 come. But she shall not destroy that little, innocent 
 life ! No, no, she shall not /" 
 
 MISS BRIXTON'S GIRLHOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE BIRTH OF BLANCHE. 
 
 It is not my purpose to dwell at unnecessary 
 length upon the scenes which filled the next few 
 weeks. Some of them were little short of tragic. 
 Mrs. Brixton's guardians had to be constantly on 
 the alert to prevent her injuring herself. She devel- 
 oped a suicidal mania. Twice she narrowly escaped 
 woundings with sharp instruments which she 
 snatched up. Had she been able to get out of the 
 house she would have thrown herself into the river. 
 Each attempt of her husband to com*" into her pres- 
 ence^made her almost uncontrollable At last Dr. 
 Robertson was called in, and his examination
 
 THE BIRTH OF BLANCHE. 73 
 
 proved that she was in a condition that fully justi- 
 fied the closest restraint. 
 
 The authority of the physician was now sponsor 
 for the proceedings that had been begun in such a 
 high-handed fashion. The " nurses," as they were 
 called, were cautioned to use the greatest care. 
 Nerve tonics and bromides were given as directed. 
 For a long time there was little change in the 
 patient's condition, but not once did Brixton falter 
 in his determination. She should fulfill the duty on 
 which she had embarked, if she lived. Later, her 
 course might be decided by herself. He would 
 never care for her again, even in the remotest man- 
 ner. The glimpse he had had of her true nature 
 would make him abhor her for the rest of her days. 
 
 Time mends many things, and at last, after six or 
 seven weeks, Mrs. Brixton grew calmer. But her 
 excitement was succeeded by a confirmed melan- 
 choly. She firmly believed that she was drifting 
 with absolute certainty to death. Like a prisoner 
 under sentence, she began to prepare for the inevit- 
 able hour with something like resignation. She 
 begged the physician to see that her body was laid 
 by her parents' graves, and on no account in the lot 
 owned by her husband. 
 
 " Nonsense," replied Dr. Robertson, with a smile. 
 "Lowness of spirits is a natural thing on such 
 occasions. You will not only survive the birth of 
 this child, but a dozen more." 
 
 Into the heavy eyes there shot a gleam of savagery. 
 
 " Do you imagine I will ever live with him again ?" 
 she demanded, in a half shriek. 
 
 Dr. Robertson shook his head in a positive way. 
 
 " My dear woman," said he, " you have no idea
 
 74: OI7T OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 how the possession of a child will alter your views. 
 You will adore it ; and for its sake you will idolize 
 its father." 
 
 Mrs. Brixton bit her lips and drew a long breath 
 of distress. 
 
 " Hear what I tell you," she replied. " If I am so 
 unhappy as to have it born alive, I will never 
 touch that child ! I hate it now, and much more do 
 I hate the wretch who has driven me to this agony !" 
 
 The physician rose to go, with the calm smile still 
 on his mouth. He had seen them so often, these 
 women. He did not believe this one any different 
 from the others. 
 
 But he was mistaken. An hour after he had told 
 Brixton of the birth of a little girl, he asked the 
 wife if she would not like to see her offspring, and 
 met with a rebuff so decided that he thought it wise 
 to drop the matter for the time. 
 
 " Keep her away from me !" the woman said, with 
 meaning. " I warn you !" 
 
 Convalescing took only the usual time. The 
 young mother did not die, nor was she at any time 
 in danger of doing so. In a fortnight she began to 
 make preparations for quitting home. Brixton was 
 informed of all she did, but he did not care to inter- 
 fere with her plans. He told the domestics not to 
 let her touch the baby, but said that in other 
 respects she was to do as it best suited her. As for 
 himself, he awaited developements. 
 
 One day a servant brought him a note in his wife's 
 handwriting, reading as follows : 
 
 " It is with difficulty that I can bring myself to write to 
 you, but it seems the only thing to do, for I could not bear
 
 THE BIRTH OF BLANCHE. 75 
 
 a personal interview. You and I can no longer live under 
 one roof. I wish to go peaceably and quietly. If you put 
 obstacles in my way you will only delay what must happen. 
 You have no invalid now to deal with, but a woman of 
 strength and will. If I forbear to take the revenge I owe, 
 do not think I forgive you, for that I shall never do. 
 
 " E. W. B." 
 
 To this he sent the following reply : 
 
 " I shall neither presume to advise nor direct you. You 
 are at full liberty to live where you please, either in my 
 home or out of it. But, as the mother of my child, it is my 
 wish to support you in the style to which you have been 
 accustomed. If you go away be kind enough to leave an 
 address to which remittances can be sent. 
 
 " G. B." 
 
 The tenor of this note surprised Mrs. Brixton. 
 She had anticipated a sharp collision with her hus- 
 band. She had believed that it would require legal 
 proceedings to get money out of him, if she chose to 
 desert her home. A slight revulsion took place in 
 her feelings as she reviewed the altered situation. 
 She did not like the idea of going to her step-father's 
 (her mother had died since her marriage) and she 
 was not over-sanguine as to earning a very good 
 living at any employment. 
 
 After a struggle between her pride and her fears, 
 she decided to take her husband at his word, and 
 adopt a middle course. She left most of her 
 belongings at the house, and made her exit with 
 only a handbag, containing a few articles of daily 
 necessity. She wanted to breathe for a time a new 
 atmosphere, but not to cut herself entirely off from 
 the old one. Before she departed she wrote another
 
 76 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 brief note to Brixton, stating that she would receive 
 what funds he chose to send her. His answer was a 
 liberal allowance for a month in advance and a 
 statement that the same amount was at her disposal 
 regularly. 
 
 The wife went to a seaside resort that was just 
 opening for the season, and stayed there several 
 weeks. Then, when no one expected her, she came 
 home. 
 
 The house occupied by the Brixtons was divided 
 from this time into two parts. Mrs. Brixton took 
 rooms on the second floor, and gave up all claim to 
 the rest of the dwelling. Her meals were brought 
 to her by her own maid, who had nothing to do 
 with any other tenant of the premises. George, the 
 baby, its nurse-in-ordinary, his housekeeper and 
 cook occupied the other ten rooms. The household 
 was thus maintained on what looked like an extrav- 
 agant basis, compared with the recent expenditures, 
 but the master did not complain. Though deprived 
 of the society of his wife he found abundant con- 
 solation in that of his baby daughter, in whose 
 company he spent nearly all of his waking hours 
 that could be spared from business. 
 
 Mrs. Drew heard of the new arrival, and her 
 curiosity to learn the full status of affairs brought 
 her to the city on a visit, when little Blanche was 
 about four months old. Brixton met her at the 
 station, and as they were driven toward his house 
 he tried to make her understand things without a 
 too full explanation. 
 
 44 You will have to divide your time between us," 
 he said, in conclusion. " You can visit her by day, 
 and see me in the evening. Meals you can vary as
 
 THE BIRTH OF BLANCHE. 77 
 
 it suits you. I believe the same kitchen supplies 
 both of us." 
 
 Mrs. Drew uttered a cry of regret. 
 
 "It seems impossible!" she cried. " Doesn't she 
 love her baby at all ?" 
 
 u She hasn't seen it. She says she never will. We 
 were warned at the start to keep it out of her 
 reach if we did not wish it hurt." 
 
 "I almost wish I had not come," said Mrs. Drew, 
 with a shudder. 
 
 " Don't say that," answered Brixton. " It does 
 me a world of good to see you. And Blanche I 
 have told her what an awfully nice girl you are and 
 she is crazy to put her chubby arms around your 
 neck. Emma always liked you, and will welcome 
 you just as heartily as if I were not in the question. 
 Only, you will make a mess of it if you try to 
 straighten things out. She won't let you go to 
 advising her, and really, things are better as they 
 are. I couldn't make a wife of that kind of a 
 woman again, you see, and if she continues to 
 observe the proprieties it is as much as I can ask," 
 
 Mrs. Drew put her hand involuntarily on the arm 
 of her companion. 
 
 " I pity you so !" she said. " This is not the fate 
 you deserve, as good and kind a man as you are. I 
 wish Emma had not come to visit me at Markham, 
 for then you never would have seen her. I feel as 
 if it was in some way my fault that you are in this 
 unhappy situation." 
 
 "Oh, you needn't pity me," he replied, with a 
 bright smile. "Little Blanche atones for every- 
 thing. My life is quite full now. Every moment I
 
 78 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 can spare from business is spent with the darling, 
 and I need nothing more." 
 
 The lady shook her head. 
 
 "You do need something more," she said, very 
 earnestly. " You need the loving companionship of 
 a good, true woman. You are capable of making 
 one happy, and I cannot speak with patience of a 
 creature who stands between you and your highest 
 good. George, you ought to get a divorce !" 
 
 He laughed a little and then suddenly grew 
 grave. 
 
 " On what ground ?" he inquired. " If there has 
 been any cruelty of the kind the law takes notice of 
 it has been on my part. She would have killed this 
 child as she had done others had I not placed her 
 under the guard of two strong, determined women 
 on whom I could absolutely rely. You may 
 imagine the state of her mind toward me during 
 that period. If she talks with you on the subject 
 which I am sure she will not unless you begin it 
 she will depict me as a monster in human form. 
 Now, Ella, you know the circumstances, and you 
 ought to be able to judge impartially. Was I justi- 
 fied, or was I not ?" 
 
 Mrs. Drew hesitated to answer. She said she 
 could not imagine such a condition of things. Her 
 own married life was so cloudless that she had noth- 
 ing to guide her. But she did know George and 
 believed in his uprightness. If he had taken severe 
 measures his provocation was excessive. 
 
 "You must see my baby, the first thing," he said, 
 as they reached the house. 
 
 The child's nurse, a matronly woman named Mrs. 
 Reynolds, brought forth the conquering heroin* as
 
 THE BIRTH OF BLANCHE. 79 
 
 soon as she heard Mr. Brixton had arrived, and the 
 young lady won the heart of her " Aunt Ella " 
 instantly. 
 
 " How lovely she is !" was the warm exclamation 
 with which the child was greeted. " See her hold 
 out her little hands ! I never saw a brighter child 
 of her age. Come to me, sweetheart !'* 
 
 Blanche, who had twined her arms around the 
 neck of her father, lifted her head from his shoulder 
 and gazed in the direction of the unfamiliar voice. 
 Then, in response to another invitation, she plunged 
 into the embrace waiting for her. 
 
 Reynolds retired and the two friends were alone 
 with the child. 
 
 " And you say Emma has never seen her ?" asked 
 Mrs. Drew, incredulously. "Never?" 
 
 " Not once." 
 
 "Then she shall. It is an outrage. She cannot 
 be made of stone. One glance at the dimpled face 
 will win her, I am sure. There is no woman living 
 who could look at this child, and realize that it was 
 her own flesh and blood, without an overwhelming 
 desire to take it to her heart." 
 
 George Brixton started. 
 
 " But I should never permit her to do that !" he 
 said, quickly. " This is not her child ; it is mine, 
 all mine ! She has forfeited every right she ever 
 had in it. I would not let her touch it for all New 
 York !" 
 
 His manner was so earnest that his friend was 
 abashed for a moment. 
 
 " Now it is you who are unreasonable," she said, 
 at last. "A mother cannot forfeit her rights in her 
 baby. No matter what she has done, this is just as
 
 80 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 much hers as yours. If she can be made to think so, 
 you ought to thank God !" 
 
 He refused to be convinced in the least. 
 
 "I should be afraid to let her take it," he said. 
 "I should tremble if Reynolds were to let Blanche 
 out of her sight. The bitterness Emma still feels 
 toward me might find a vent on this little one. No, 
 you must not try to alter her determination. Dis- 
 agreeable as things are, a word from you might 
 make them infinitely worse." 
 
 " Ah !" she replied. " You are hard and unfor* 
 giving !" 
 
 " But you spoke as severely of her as I, a few 
 moments ago." 
 
 "Of what she had done, yes. But I would allow 
 her to repent. Think what is before you. Thirty, 
 forty, fifty years of this loveless life, this hatred 
 toward the mother of the child you adore. What 
 will you tell Blanche, when she is old enough to 
 inquire why her home is different from that of other 
 girls ?" 
 
 Mrs. Drew held the child in her arms, stroking its 
 head as she spoke ; and the emotion she felt made a 
 tremble in her voice. 
 
 "What shall I tell her?" he repeated. " I shall 
 tell her the truth ! Yes, I have made up my mind 
 to that. I have had time to think of a great many 
 things, Ella. Most children have two parents who 
 share the responsibility for their bringing up. 
 Blanche will have but one. Between us there will 
 have to be the double relation of father and mother. 
 I will tell her the truth, no matter what her inquiries 
 are." 
 
 The lady shook her head again.
 
 THE BIBTH OF BLANCHE. 81 
 
 " It is not feasible ; you can't do it," she replied. 
 " You will find it out, before she is five years old. 
 As to her mother, leave that a little to my judgment. 
 I want to know her line of defense." 
 
 To this Brixton gave a reluctant consent, but he 
 added that the orders of Mrs. Reynolds would be 
 relaxed in no way. Blanche must always be either 
 in her custody or that of her father. He would not 
 trust his wife with her on any consideration. 
 
 " You would trust her with me, I think," said 
 Mrs. Drew, smiling. 
 
 " Not to take her out of Reynolds' sight," he 
 answered, firmly, " in a house where Mrs. Brixton 
 lives. You are neither quick enough nor strong 
 enough to cope with her. I will bring Blanche to 
 Markham, by-and-by, for a visit, and then you can 
 have her all you wish." 
 
 "If you came with your child and not your wife, 
 it would make gossip," suggested Ella. 
 
 "Oil, that's a thing I must expect," he said. 
 
 He held out his arms for the child, who went back 
 to him, cooing softly, and then he rang the bell for 
 the nurse. 
 
 When Reynolds reappeared, he gave the child to 
 her and asked her to show Mrs. Drew to the guest 
 chamber. 
 
 " Don't relax your vigilance," he added, signi- 
 ficantly. " Never leave Blanche for one instant, when 
 I am not present." 
 
 " I understand, sir," was the quiet reply of the 
 woman.
 
 gg OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "I NEVER HAD A CHILD." 
 
 Mrs. Drew's visit to the Brixtons was not without 
 its effect, in a certain way. She did not accomplish 
 a reconciliation between the estranged husband and 
 wife, nor did she succeed in arousing a love of her 
 child in the breast of the mother ; but she relieved 
 the extreme strain of the conditions prevailing and 
 made them less distressing to all parties. 
 
 Her first care was not to violate any of the restric- 
 tions that George had put upon her, in relation to 
 Blanche ; though, whatever her disposition in this 
 respect, the faithful Reynolds would have prevented 
 her overstepping the rules established. She was 
 determined, however, that Emma should see her 
 baby, and she studied out the way to arrange this 
 with the best results. 
 
 Mrs. Brixton welcomed the friend of her girlhood 
 with her usual cordiality. She avoided any direct 
 allusion to her husband as long as she could do so, 
 but the peculiar arrangement of matters in the 
 house made it impossible to wholly escape the 
 subject. 
 
 " You must take as many meals as possible with 
 me/* she said, " and I also expect the greater part of 
 your time will be spent in my company while you 
 remain. I hope you have come for a good, long 
 visit." 
 
 " Only a week or ten days," was the reply. " You
 
 **I NEVER HAD A CHILD. 7 * 83 
 
 know I have left my husband and Minnie at home, 
 ami when away from them ti~n ^ will go very slowly, 
 no matter what else there is to entertain me. Ah, 
 Ernma ! You ought to see Minnie now ! I would 
 have brought her, but your own child is so young 
 that I feared all your available room would be taken 
 up." 
 
 The ice was broken and Mrs. Brixton did not 
 evade the issue. 
 
 " My child ?" she repeated, with a rising inflection. 
 " Perhaps you mean Mr. Brixton's." 
 
 " Oh, Emma !" The words came with a long 
 drawn sigh. " How can a woman who has been 
 through the experience of childbirth speak thus of 
 her offspring ? There are fathers who refuse to 
 admit their paternity, but to a mother there can be 
 no such thing as doubt." 
 
 Mrs. Brixton reiterated hei statement. 
 
 " I don't know what you have heard," said she, 
 v but I repeat that I have no cVi\d. It is along 
 time since I have even had a husband. The man 
 whom I once called by that name proved to be cruel, 
 revengeful and cowardly. Whatever regard I had 
 conceived for him could not survive this treatment. 
 I hear that he has a child. I have never seen it, nor 
 do I wish to. And now, let us drop the subject, for 
 it is most distasteful to me." 
 
 Thinking it wisest not to press the matter at that 
 time, Mrs. Drew attempted to obey the request. 
 But whatever form the conversation took, her hus- 
 band and Minnie were forever getting into it. Her 
 mind was too full of them to keep them out. It 
 was " Stephen r who had said this and "Minnie" 
 who had done that, in spite of all she could do.
 
 84 OUT OP WEDLOCK. 
 
 Even though she ceased to speak of George and 
 Blanche, they came before her vision at such times, 
 and the situation was frequently very awkward. 
 
 " I don't believe I can stand it much longer," she 
 said to Brixton, on the third day. "I must have it 
 out with her, and if she takes it too hard I must 
 leave sooner than I expected, that's all." 
 
 " You will have to leave her, perhaps," he smiled 
 in return, " but you will not need on that account 
 to cut short your visit with me. My part of the 
 house is amply sufficient for your accommodatioa." 
 
 There was a beautiful picture of little Blanche- 
 taken just before Mrs. Drew's arrival a photograph 
 done in water colors in the best style. The portrait 
 was of such excellence that the artist had made a 
 copy on his own account and placed it in his window 
 as a sample of the quality of work customers might 
 expect. On one of her walks Mrs. Drew saw this 
 duplicate, and she resolved to show it to Mrs. Brix- 
 ton the next time they were out together. 
 
 *' I am thinking of getting some photographs while 
 I am here," she remarked, pausing at the window 
 as they were strolling down Broadway. " They seem 
 to do very good work in these places. Wait a 
 minute. Aren't those colored ones lovely ? Oh, 
 look at that beautiful child ! Did you ever see such 
 a perfect little darling !" 
 
 Mrs. Brixton looked at the picture and admitted 
 that the subject was very pretty indeed . Unable to 
 control herself a minute longer, Ella clasped her 
 friend by the arm and told her the truth. 
 " Emma ! It is your own little baby !" 
 For a moment the mother trembled under the
 
 " I NEVER HAD A CHILD." 85 
 
 of her companion. Then she became 
 granite again. 
 
 '* How can you be so foolish ?" she asked. " I 
 have no child." 
 
 The blood of Mrs. Drew was chilling in her veins. 
 
 " Her name is Blanche !" she whispered. *' I never 
 saw such a charming infant, except my own. Look 
 again, Emma, and see how radiantly beautiful she 
 is!" 
 
 Mrs. Brixton gazed unmoved at the photograph. 
 
 "I understand, I think," she said. "That is a 
 picture of Mr. Brixton's child. And he calls her 
 Blanche. I do not like the name, but people suit 
 themselves in such matters. Shall you sit to-day ? 
 If not, we may as well be going." 
 
 The experiment, as far as could be judged by the 
 result visible, was a total failure. Ella bit her lips 
 and wiped a tear from her eyelash. What a heart- 
 less woman Emma had become ! She could hardly 
 bear to continue the walk with her. As soon as 
 they arrived at the Brixton residence she left her 
 companion, and going to the room she occupied 
 indulged in that luxury to the injured feminine soul, 
 *' a real good cry." 
 
 When George came she told him about it. He 
 shrugged his shoulders, and said perhaps she would 
 believe him now. 
 
 "Where most women have a heart, she has a 
 piece of flint," he said. " The liquid that courses 
 through her veins is not blood but wormwood. She 
 is, in a certain sense, a madwoman. Her mania does 
 not require that she be closely confined, so long a? 
 the objects of her special wrath are not brought 
 under her notice ; but I honestly believe she would
 
 gg OUT OF 
 
 kill either Blanche or myself without compunction, 
 if she could do so and escape detection." 
 
 Ella spent a few hours each day during the 
 remainder of her visit with the woman she now dis- 
 liked so much, merely for the sake of form. The 
 afternoon before she was to go, Mrs. Brixton 
 abruptly alluded of her own accord to the subject 
 her friend had decided to avoid. 
 
 " I feel, Ella," she said, " that you think me wholly 
 to blame in the matters that have estranged me 
 from the person who was once my husband. I have 
 no intention of arguing the case with you, for we 
 should come to no agreement. I never speak to 
 him and hope I shall not be obliged to. So long as 
 he continues to support me as well as he is now 
 doing, and to give me the same perfect liberty of 
 action, I shall not interfere with him or his. The 
 notion which he entertains that his infant is in 
 danger from me is absurd. He might act a little more 
 like a rational being, and there would be less danger 
 of the neighbors getting the impression that this is 
 a private lunatic asylum." 
 
 George heard this, and though he said he should 
 not relax his vigilance in the least, it had an effect 
 that was perceptible by degrees. During the year 
 that followed much progress was made toward a less 
 scandalous state of affairs. One of the things that 
 came to his ears was a statement of the nurse, that 
 Mrs. Brixton had been seen watching Blanche for 
 minutes at a time, from her window, when the little 
 one was in the yard, taking her airings. The gaze 
 of the mother was reported to be calm and inter- 
 ested, and not in the least malevolent. 
 
 One day Emma took a step still farther in the
 
 "l HEVEK HAD A CHILD." 87 
 
 direction of disarming her critics. She opened he* 
 window and spoke to Reynolds. 
 
 " Is that Mr. Brixton's child ?" she asked. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," replied the nurse. 
 
 " She must be about a year and a half old." 
 
 " Seventeen months, ma'am." 
 
 " She looks well." 
 
 "Very well indeed, ma'am. She has always been 
 a well baby." 
 
 Another time, some weeks later, when Blanche had 
 a fall and alarmed the neighborhood with loud cries, 
 the window went up again. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" asked its mother's voice. 
 
 " Baby fell and bruised herself a little. It is 
 nothing serious.'* 
 
 "Are you sure she has not broken a bone ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, ma'am. She has only scraped a bit of 
 skin off her forehead." 
 
 Blanche ceased her cries, and realizing that the 
 lady was inquiring about her hurt, looked up at the 
 unfamiliar face and exhibited her bruise, calling 
 attention to it with her chubby fingers. The lady 
 bowed to show that she understood, but presently 
 arose, shut the window again and went away. 
 
 A few months later Mrs. Brixton took a new idea 
 into her head. She came down in the absence of 
 her husband, and wandered through the rooms he 
 occupied, to the astonishment, and somewhat to the 
 consternation, of the servants there, who did not 
 know whether they ought to permit the intrusion, 
 and yet felt no authority to prevent it. Reynolds, 
 whose charge was asleep at the time, accompanied 
 her master's wife at a respectful distance, but Mrs. 
 Brixton walked with her hands clasped behind her,
 
 88 OUT OF WKDLOOK. 
 
 as if to show her pacific intentions. When she came 
 to one room the nurse said simply, " The baby is 
 asleep in there, ma'am," and the mother turned 
 away, like a child when told that a certain direction 
 is forbidden. 
 
 " I wish she wouldn't, but I can't see how to help 
 it," was Brixton's comment, when he heard of this. 
 "You must keep your eyes on Blanche, though, 
 Mrs. Reynolds. Perhaps it was only a freak, and 
 she won't come again." 
 
 But she did come again, and after awhile it 
 became a daily habit of hers to descend to the lower 
 part of the house, during the afternoon, when she 
 was certain her husband would be out. She talked 
 with no one except Mrs. Reynolds, and only a very 
 little with her. If Blanche were awake she observed 
 the child slightly, and sometimes, though seldom, 
 spoke of her appearance, or asked after her health 
 quite as if she were the daughter of people in whom 
 She took no particular interest. 
 
 Brixton was informed of everything that occurred, 
 and his fears wore away gradually. On the succeed- 
 ing spring he took a short vacation only a few 
 days in extent and went with Blanche and a young 
 nurse that he had engaged for the trip, to Markham. 
 Here he bore the cross-questioning in relation to 
 his wife with equanimity, responding to inquirers 
 that she was not very well and did not feel like 
 taking a journey. Mr. and Mrs. Drew welcomed 
 the visitors warmly and Blanche was taken to their 
 hearts without restriction. 
 
 "I thought you were going to tell the truth, at 
 any cost,** remarked Ella, one day, when George 
 bad just repeated the stock story about his wife's
 
 89 
 
 health to a person who stopped to speak to him. " I 
 knew you would learn to prevaricate like the rest 
 of the world, if you were only given a little time." 
 
 "You did not understand me," he answered. " I 
 never said I should tell everything to curiosity- 
 seekers who chose to bore me with questions. I 
 treat them in any way that seems best for the 
 moment. But to Blanche I shall never utter a 
 deception. Whatever she asks me shall be answered 
 as honestly as I can find words to express." 
 
 Mrs. Brixton had not been informed of her hus- 
 band's intended journey and she did not ask about 
 it until the second day. 
 
 " Where is your child ?" she inquired of Mrs. 
 Reynolds, after waiting as long as she thought 
 advisable for the woman to say something of her 
 own accord. " I have not seen her all day long." 
 
 The woman replied that she had gone out of 
 town. 
 
 There was a dead silence for some minutes. Then 
 Mrs. Brixton asked, in a low tone, if she would 
 remain long. 
 
 " I don't know exactly," said Mrs. Reynolds. For 
 this was what Brixton had told her to say in case 
 she was interrogated. 
 
 The next day Mrs. Brixton came down earlier than 
 usual and remained most of the morning. After 
 lunch she returned and stayed all the afternoon. 
 Several times she went to the street windows and 
 peered through the curtains, as if she thought one 
 of the passing cabs had stopped at the door. 
 
 At night the light in her window on the second 
 floor burned late. Passers on the other side of the 
 street saw a white-robed figure crouched at the sill.
 
 90 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 In the morning she came down again early, and 
 watched the nurse as she received the mail from 
 the postman, noticing that she opened none of it, 
 after inspecting the addresses. But neither did she 
 readdress any of it, which intimated that the wan- 
 derers would soon return. 
 
 It was on the third day after this, that Mrs. Brix- 
 ton spoke again to Mrs. Reynolds about the absent 
 child. She had been out for a walk, and on her 
 return she came into her husband's apartments 
 without going first to her own rooms. 
 
 " Has your little girl got home yet ?" she asked, in 
 a low voice. 
 
 " Not yet," was the composed reply. 
 
 " You you are expecting her ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Gathering up her draperies, Mrs. Brixton left the 
 room and went upstairs. The maid who served her 
 reported to the cook that she did not touch the din- 
 ner. During the evening Dr. Robertson, who still 
 attended the family when his services were required, 
 was sent for. He told Mrs. Reynolds when he came 
 down that it was nothing serious, no more than a 
 severe attack of nervousness, such as Mrs. Brixton 
 was subject to. 
 
 ''Where's Brixton ?" he added, shortly. 
 
 ** Out of town," replied the quiet Reynolds. 
 
 "I know that," said the doctor, with a snap. 
 u But where ? I want to write to him." 
 
 " Leave the letter here and I will send it." 
 
 "The devil! I will do nothing of the kind. So 
 he wants to keep his whereabouts a secret, does he ? 
 Well, I'll wait till he returns. When is he coming?" 
 
 " I don't know."
 
 W I NEVER HAD A CHILD. 1 * 91 
 
 The physician grew impatient. 
 
 44 Confound it, woman ! I don't mean to an hour 
 or a minute ! Is he coming within a day or two, or 
 will it be a month ?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 Muttering something about parrots Dr. Robertson 
 beat a baffled retreat, and Mrs. Reynolds returned 
 smiling to her sitting-room. 
 
 Midnight was striking on that very evening when 
 the lost ones came home. Brixton ascended the 
 steps with his sleeping daughter in his arms, and 
 assisted the younger nurse to undress her and place 
 her in her cot bed. Bending lovingly over her, he 
 was aroused from a reverie by Mrs. Reynolds, who 
 had hurriedly donned a portion of her attire and 
 hastened to see them both. 
 
 " Perfectly well," he responded to her first inquiry. 
 " Never better in her life. And how have you been 
 yourself, Reynolds ?" 
 
 "As usual," she said. "We have all been well, 
 sir, but but Mrs. Brixton. She had the doctor 
 twice." 
 
 " M m. What was the matter ?" 
 
 " He said it was a nervous attack. You see, sir, 
 she was down here most of the time after you left ; 
 and she asked after Blanche ; and I couldn't tell her 
 how long you were to be away, for you did not let 
 me know exactly ; and she seemed very uneasy ; 
 and when she went back upstairs she walked her 
 room a good deal ; and that evening she had asked 
 me again that evening she was taken and I could 
 not answer her ; and she did not eat her dinner, and 
 then Rachel went for the doctor." 
 
 Brixton gazed longingly at his sleeping child, as
 
 99 our or WEDLOCK. 
 
 if he envied the lids that hid her sweet eyes from 
 him. 
 
 " She asked for Blanche, did she ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, and she seemed very anxious. 1 sup 
 pose you would not have liked me to tell hei any- 
 thing, would you ?" 
 
 The husband straightened up in his chair. 
 
 " Certainly not 1" he said. 
 
 "Dr. Robertson tried hard to find out where you 
 were, too," continued the woman, "but he learned 
 nothing from me." 
 
 " That was right," said Brixton, reflectively. 
 ' He might have told her. Be more careful than 
 ever to-morrow, Reynolds. Keep Blanche out of 
 sight as much as possible." 
 
 Then he kissed the child reverently, and with a 
 peaceful smile went to his chamber. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MOTHER LOVE PREVAILS. 
 
 But this state of things could not go on forever. 
 A couple who have sustained the relationship of hus- 
 band and wife must find peculiar difficulty in living 
 in one house in a state of armed neutrality, especially 
 when there is a child to complicate the situation. 
 It happened that Brixton came home one day and 
 found his wife in his portion of the premises. To 
 be sure, she withdrew immediately, but there was 
 time to allow a dark cloud to form on his brow
 
 MOTHER LOVE PREVAILS. 93 
 
 which she did not fail to notice. He did not want 
 her there at any time, even when he was absent, and 
 he debated for some days whether to leave word that 
 she must not pass her proper boundaries. 
 
 " Why can't she stay on her side of the line, as I 
 do ?" he muttered, in speaking of the matter to Mrs. 
 Reynolds, with whom he naturally grew confidential. 
 " I don't go into her rooms, prowling about." 
 
 The woman smiled knowingly. 
 
 " Perhaps you would, if Miss Blanche was there," 
 she said. 
 
 "What is Blanche to her?" he demanded, hotly. 
 "If she continues to annoy me I will take the child 
 away where she never will see her. I never heard 
 of such effrontery. I am afraid, Reynolds, that you 
 make her too welcome here. A little coldness on 
 your part might signify that she is not wanted." 
 
 Mrs. Reynolds made haste to defend herself. 
 
 "I have been anything but cordial, I assure you,** 
 she said. "We never, as you might say, talk 
 together. It's only a word on either side, and then 
 a long silence. Of late I have got to pitying her, 
 but I've said nothing to show it." 
 
 Brixton opened his eyes wider. 
 
 "To pitying her!" he echoed. "On what ac- 
 count ?" 
 
 " Why, sir, anybody can see that she suffers 
 terribly. Her hair is growing white, and her maid 
 tells me she sleeps badly. She is a most unhappy 
 woman, sir, and one must notice it, if he has a heart 
 in his bosom." 
 
 Mr. Brixton felt that she was arraigning him 
 before the bar of her sentimentalism, and he 
 resented the act mildly.
 
 94: OUT OF 
 
 "Then I have none in mine," said he, " for I have 
 noticed nothing of the kind. You imagine a great 
 many things, Reynolds. I know more about the 
 composition of that lady's mind than you do. Her 
 people grow gray early ; mine do not. If mental 
 troubles turned hair white I should be crowned with 
 snow already." 
 
 Mrs. Brixton knew instinctively that her husband 
 did not like to meet her in his part of the house, 
 and she tried not to encounter him there again. 
 Two or three times, however, meetings took place 
 unexpectedly, when he came home for something he 
 had forgotten, or remained longer after lunch than 
 she thought he would do. Not a word passed 
 between them on any of these occasions. Finally, 
 three years after she had heard the sound of his 
 voice addressed to her, she received a note in his 
 handwriting, to this effect : 
 
 " Mr. Brixton, having reserved the lower part of his 
 house for his own use, objects to uninvited visits from any 
 person whatsoever. If the annoyance from that source 
 is repeated he will be obliged to remove from these 
 premises and assign the other tenant new quarters in a 
 separate locality." 
 
 After th?.t the wife did not venture to intrude 
 upon hef husband's apartments. She sat a great 
 deal, however, at the rear window, where she could 
 see Reynolds on sunny days, amusing the child in 
 the yard. Mrs. Brixton's maid was also deployed as 
 a skirmisher, to call attention to any excursions that 
 might be made with Blanche from the street side of 
 the residence, and as the girl was on good terms 
 with Reynolds she usually knew in advance when to
 
 MOTHER LOVK PREVAILS. 95 
 
 look for such sallies. The mother showed her inter- 
 est in the child in other simple ways, such as leaving 
 a door open at the top of the stairs when Blanche was 
 passing in or out of the lower hall, to catch the 
 faint sound of her voice ; and on days when the 
 weather kept her indoors altogether, she haunted 
 the vicinity of the furnace register, where her 
 anxious ears could detect now and then the treble 
 of a baby tongue. 
 
 In this way another year went by. 
 
 One day Blanche was taken with a severe illness. 
 It was one of those attacks to which children are 
 subject, and Dr. Robertson could only say to the 
 father, with a grave face, that he " hoped " she would 
 recover from it. " Hoped !" The very word im- 
 plied doubt, and the distracted man stayed by the 
 bedside for three days and nights, unable to think 
 of sleep for himself while the light of his sou. 
 hovered between life and death. 
 
 At last, overcome with exhaustion, he permitted 
 himself to be led to his own chamber, where he fell 
 into a profound slumber that lasted for seven hours. 
 It was in the middle of the night that he awoke, and 
 starting like a sentinel who has slept on his post, he 
 hastened back to the side of his sick child. His 
 slippered feet made no sound on the carpets, and 
 he entered the room before any of the occupants 
 heard him. 
 
 There were three persons there, besides Blanche. 
 Dr. Robertson sat nearest the door. Not far from 
 him was Mrs. Reynolds. And kneeling by the bed- 
 side, with its arms thrown across the coverlet, with 
 one of the child's hands clasped in its own, was a
 
 9<J OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 third figure, which the father immediately recog- 
 nized as that of his wife. 
 
 With the instinct of preserving his adored one 
 from threatening danger Mr. Brixton took one stride 
 in the direction of the bed, when he was arrested 
 by the physician's hand placed firmly on his sleeve. 
 
 The eyes of the men met, the one nervous and 
 excited, the other quiet and determined. Much may 
 be said without audible words. Dr. Robertson told 
 Mr. Brixton with that look that he must not make 
 a scene there, because it might disturb the slumbers 
 of the child, and that if he would retire to a more 
 retired spot he would discuss the matter with him. 
 
 Brixton glanced with pain at the figures on the 
 bed and by it. Mrs. Brixton was too absorbed in 
 her vigil to know what was going on so near her, 
 and suspected nothing. There was a moment of 
 irresolution and then the father yielded. He saw 
 that the doctor was right, that he could not utter 
 a sound without danger of doing harm. He lifted a 
 finger warningly to Mrs. Reynolds, who nodded to 
 show that she understood, and would watch over 
 Blanche with the greatest care. Then he permitted 
 Dr. Robertson to draw him slowly from the room 
 into another some distance away. 
 
 " Don't speak yet," said the doctor, as soon as 
 they were alone, with the doors closed behind them. 
 " Hear what I have to say. In the first place, your 
 child has passed the danger point, and is now 
 certain of recovery. At this moment she is having 
 a sweet and refreshing sleep. She will recognize 
 you when she awakes." 
 
 The overjoyed listener would have embraced the
 
 MOTHER LOVE PREVAILS. 97 
 
 Bearer of this delightful news, had he been allowed 
 to do so. His eyes filled with tears of pleasure. 
 
 " Now," pursued the physician, after a slight 
 pause, " for the other matter. As you know, I have 
 been for several years, not only your medical adviser, 
 but that of your wife. Don't cavil at the term," he 
 added quickly, seeing that Brixton was about to 
 interrupt him. "She is your wife before the law, 
 whatever your differences have been ; and she is the 
 mother of the little girl there, as I can swear. 
 Blanche has been very ill. No one could say up to 
 five hours ago that she would escape with her life. 
 Her mother begged an opportunity to see her, 
 begged it on her knees, with tears streaming down 
 her cheeks. Do you think I am made of adamant, 
 to refuse her ? I admit I did not intend you to know 
 it. I thought you would sleep till daylight. When 
 you came in and found her there I could not let 
 you imperil your daughter's recovery." 
 
 Mr. Brixton's face, which had beamed with joy at 
 the news of Blanche's condition, was now thoroughly 
 clouded. 
 
 "I don't wish to criticize you," he said. "You 
 were placed in an embarrassing situation. But you 
 cannot imagine what a jar goes through my nerves 
 whenever I see that woman trying to mix herself in 
 Blanche's life. You know the history of her birth 
 I need not repeat it. Her mother cast her off com- 
 pletely. She not only would not look on her face, 
 but she threatened " 
 
 Dr. Robertson interrupted with an impatient ges- 
 ture. 
 
 " I have heard that often enough," he said, " and it 
 has now all the lack of charm of disagreeable
 
 98 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 ancient nistory. Most of us have committed mis- 
 takes. How long should a penitent woman be pun- 
 ished ?" 
 
 A sneer crossed the face of the husband. 
 
 "Who says she is penitent?" he asked. "She 
 has never spoken a word or written a line to me that 
 showed it." 
 
 "Are you blind!" exclaimed the physician. 
 " Have you seen the way she haunted your rooms, 
 when you were absent, till you forbade her to come 
 have you listened to Mrs. Reynolds' story of the sad 
 face at the window whenever the child has been 
 taken into the yard have you watched the prostrate 
 figure in the other room a moment ago and yet 
 understood nothing! A thousand letters could not 
 tell as much as one glance at the form by that bed- 
 side. It is her child that lies there, a child that she 
 loves as only a mother can. If she came to you and 
 begged your pardon with all the contrition in the 
 world, would you grant it ?" 
 
 Brixton walked to a window and looked out. 
 The first signs of dawn were becoming visible. A 
 few lights could be seen in the houses to the rear of 
 his own. 
 
 " I don't want to seem like a brute," he said, 
 presently, turning abruptly to face his judge. " I 
 had as tender a heart once as ever beat in a human 
 bosom. That woman's conduct drove all the soft- 
 ness away. Doctor, I think not only of this child, 
 but of those others of which she robbed me. My 
 life is broken in twain because of her. Except for 
 Blanche I would not care to live an hour. I have 
 tried to treat Mrs. Brixton with respect, during the 
 years last past. I have provided for her, according
 
 MOTHER LOVE PREVAILS. 
 
 v my means. I shall continue to do so, but " and 
 he paused to control his feelings "she must keep 
 away from me, and from my child. I cannot endure 
 to see them together as they are now. She made 
 her choice, which was to live a husbandless, child- 
 less life. If she has any honor left, let her abide by 
 that decision." 
 
 Dr. Robertson shook his head slowly. 
 
 " I give you warning," he said, " that she will con- 
 sent to this no longer. She knows she has a legal 
 right to her child's society, and that she can enforce 
 her claims." 
 
 The husband fairly trembled with rage. 
 
 " If she dares " he began. 
 
 " She will, rest assured," replied the imperturbable 
 physician. "As her medical adviser I shall recom- 
 mend it. Why, man, nothing else will keep her 
 from going to her grave within six months. I did 
 not want to say this to you, but there is no help for 
 it. You will either consent that Mrs. Brixton shall 
 have an opportunity to see her child daily, or she 
 will appeal to ihe law and compel you." 
 
 Mr. Brixton bit his lips and did not answer. He 
 was in a quandary that did not admit of speech just 
 then. 
 
 "Think it over sensibly," pursued the doctor, 
 slapping him on the shoulder. " She does not ask 
 for much, only that Blanche shall not be hidden 
 from her sight, as she has been for the year past. 
 She wants her brought to her apartments a few 
 hours each day kept in the charge of her nurse, if 
 you will. Now, think it over. It will be either con- 
 sent on your part, or a public scandal, a hearing 
 before a court. And I tell you on my professional
 
 100 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 reputation, no man sits on any bench In this State 
 who will refuse to give her all she asks and more." 
 
 When the two men returned to the sick chamber 
 the intruder had gone. A fortnight later, after the 
 most intense mental struggle and an interview with 
 a prominent lawyer, who substantiated all that Dr 
 Robertson had said Brixton astonished Mrs. Rey- 
 nolds by telling her to take Blanche upstairs for a 
 little while, to let her see that part of the house. 
 
 "She is not strong enough to stay out in the yard 
 yet," he said, " and the carriage rides seem to tire 
 her. Anything will do for a change, and she has 
 never been above this floor. Don't stay too long, 
 and be sure you keep the most perfect watch over 
 her. We can't be too careful now that she is 
 convalescing." 
 
 Mrs. Reynolds smiled to herself, but her employer 
 did not notice it. He took up a book and settled 
 himself into a pretence of reading, for he could not 
 think of going out of the house on that first occa- 
 sion of Blanche's visit to the apartments occupied by 
 his wife. Shrewd woman as she was, the nurse came 
 back within an hour, thinking it wisest not to pro- 
 long his agony ; but it seemed a month to him. 
 When the child returned he took her in his arms as 
 if she had been rescued from some terrible danger, 
 and he did not leave her the whole of the morning. 
 
 How it came about no one could ever tell exactly, 
 but the little girl drew her father and mother, slowly 
 but surely, nearer together. Finally Emma did not 
 spring up in affright if her husband happened to 
 enter at the street door, when Blanche was visiting 
 her, and George would stop and pat his child on the 
 head even if his wife was coming down the stairs.
 
 MOTHER LOVE PREVAILS. 101 
 
 Blanche called her mother " Zat lady," and used 
 to babble a great deal about her while at table. 
 '* Zat lady, zat nice lady give me zis," she would say, 
 producing some toy; "zat pitty lady upstairs." 
 And he grew accustomed to it, after a period when 
 it cut him to the heart, until at last he did not mind 
 it near so much. 
 
 The great change came, however, when he moved 
 to another residence in the newer quarter of the 
 city. Mrs. Reynolds and Dr. Robertson arranged 
 things between them, without Brixton's suspecting 
 their collusion, so that Mrs. Brixton's rooms were 
 partly on the lower and partly on the second floor, 
 thus bringing her and her daughter together with- 
 out the old formality of ascending to another story. 
 It took a long time to gain the next step, for the 
 plotters knew that precipitation might spoil every- 
 thing ; but at last the father, mother and child would 
 gather in the parlor after dinner, although no word 
 was directly exchanged and seats were taken the 
 farthest possible from each other. And later yet, in 
 some mysterious way, " ze nice lady " was urged so 
 hard by Blanche to dine with her that she consented, 
 and after that the strange family was always united 
 though still very much divided at that meal. 
 
 Mrs. Reynolds, faithful to the end, was the boun- 
 dary line on these occasions. She saw that both 
 George and Emma were waited upon, and that 
 Blanche had everything that was good for her. Mrs. 
 Brixton never spoke except to utter a " yes " or 
 "no." The father and daughter monopolized the 
 conversation ; or, to put it even more accurately, 
 Blanche did nearly all the talking, for which she 
 proved fully competent.
 
 102 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 But the worst was over, so far as outward shovr 
 went. And when Ella Drew came to see her friends, 
 on the occasion of Blanche's sixth birthday, bring- 
 ing her husband and Minnie, she declared that she 
 never would have believed so much could have been 
 accomplished in the way of making those people 
 behave decently to each other. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FORGIVENESS AND DEATH. 
 
 Behaving decently as far as the outside world can 
 see is, however, far from fulfilling the requirements 
 of a true marriage. Mrs. Drew could not end this 
 visit without making a vigorous attempt to remedy 
 the unfortunate condition of things she found, and 
 for which she had always felt a certain sense of 
 blame. Her first approach to the subject was made 
 with Brixton. He had told her of the incident 
 during Blanche's illness, and explained that it was 
 on account of Dr. Robertson's insistence that the 
 child was now allowed to be with considerable 
 freedom in the company of her mother. There was 
 nothing, however, in his manner or tone that im- 
 plied the least affection toward the woman who was 
 by law his wife. 
 
 " I am glad to see so much of an improvement," 
 said Ella, earnestly. " It leads me to hope for a still 
 greater one in the future." 
 
 " You see all you will ever see," was the cold 
 response.
 
 FORGIVENESS AND DEATH. 103 
 
 "You would have been equally certain that the 
 present conditions could never prevail," smiled Mrs. 
 Drew. " I notice that Blanche now speaks to 
 Emma by the name of ' mother.' As she grows 
 older she will wonder that her parents act unlike 
 those of other girls." 
 
 Brixton shook his head. 
 
 " Blanche is no common child," said he. " She 
 understands a great deal more than you give her 
 credit for. Although she calls Mrs. Brixton ' mother* 
 she means nothing by it. She cares quite as much 
 for Reynolds or Rachel as for her." 
 
 The listener shuddered. 
 
 " Oh, why can't you forgive and forget all that is 
 past !" she cried. " Why can't you and Emma begin 
 life over again ? It is terrible, the way you are 
 living,with hate where there should be love, distrust 
 where there should be confidence you, the father 
 and mother of that dear child !" 
 
 Brixton drew a long breath. She had aroused all 
 that was most earnest in his nature. 
 
 "Ella," he replied, with a tender smile, "you are 
 too good for such a world as this. There are times 
 when it is one's duty to remember ! A renewal of the 
 marriage relations between Mrs. Brixton and myself 
 would be one of the most horrible things conceiv- 
 able. I know her so well that I never could respect 
 her ; she has hated me so long that love is out of 
 the question. You and I do not differ as to what 
 marriage is for. Should I take to my arms, then, a 
 woman who would try to set the mark of Cain upon 
 her brow each time the Almighty Father put his seal 
 of blessing on her ? Worse ! Shall I give into her 
 keeping her education that pure young soul so
 
 104 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 liable to contamination from false views of right and 
 wrong ? We are separated by a boundless sea, and 
 thus we must remain." 
 
 " But," persisted Ella, " if she would come to you 
 and swear never to repeat the follies of the past ; if 
 she were to ask your forgiveness and say that her 
 views had changed ; would you repulse her then ?" 
 
 To this he answered that the possibility was too 
 remote to make it worth discussing ; and suddenly 
 branched off into another subject, refusing to be led 
 back to the one she most wanted to talk about. 
 
 With Mrs. Brixton Ella was no more successful. 
 The wife was much broken in health and spirit, but 
 she had no thought of renewing her marital rela- 
 tions. All she wanted was to see as much as pos- 
 sible of her child, for whom she had developed a 
 positive craze. She asked Mrs. Drew repeatedly if 
 she believed Blanche cared for her, and the visitor 
 was obliged to perpetrate something in the nature 
 of a pious fraud in making her answers. When they 
 were together Ella could not help noticing the anx- 
 ious eyes with which Emma watched every move- 
 ment that Blanche made. When the child turned 
 toward Mrs. Brixton for any cause the weary face 
 was suffused with light. When they spoke together 
 a new animation came into the careworn features. 
 And when Blanche left the room the cloud that set- 
 tled down upon the mother was pitiful to behold. 
 
 "Don't you think you and George could recon- 
 cile your differences ?" asked Mrs. Drew one day. 
 
 "No, no!" was the quick reply. "Never.'" 
 
 " Then you hate him still ?" 
 
 " No, I do not hate him now, although he hates 
 me. Do not speak of it. I only want my child. I
 
 FORGIYENE8S AND DEATH. 105 
 
 only want her love. I only ask, sometime before I 
 die, that she may put her arms around my neck in 
 the same way she does around his." 
 
 It was pathetic to hear her low words, and to see 
 the dimmed eyes as she spoke. 
 
 " Blanche likes you, I am sure," said Mrs. Drew, 
 as one puts arnica on a burn, to lessen the pain. 
 
 "Yes," was the sad reply, "but she feels a differ- 
 ence between me and him. She has an instinct that 
 tells her I do not deserve her love. If I could live 
 till she was a little older, till she had more of the 
 feeling of a woman, more of the knowledge of what 
 it means to be a mother, she might be better able t6 
 understand." 
 
 Mrs. Drew had not expected so much of a confes- 
 sion of fault as this. It pained her exceedingly, for 
 she felt that this woman's punishment was bitterer 
 than she had supposed. 
 
 " You don't think, do you," continued the mother, 
 after a pause, " that he teaches her to dislike me ? 
 He would not deliberately try to do that, would 
 he?" 
 
 " I am sure he does not," replied E!la. 
 
 " Then," said Mrs. Brixton, wistfully, and with an 
 air of patience under martyrdom, " it may come, in 
 time." 
 
 During the next seven or eight years matters went 
 on with very slight change. Though feeble in health 
 Mrs. Brixton showed a wonderful vitality, and kept 
 about the house as before. The husband and wife 
 did not go anywhere in company, and thus they 
 added no one to their set of mutual acquaintances. 
 Mrs. Brixton found a new source of entertainment,
 
 106 OUT OF 'WEDLOCK. 
 
 however, when Blanche was nine or ten years of age. 
 She joined a church. 
 
 Mr. Brixton paid little attention to this episode, 
 and certainly cared nothing about it ; though it was 
 brought to his attention, in several disagreeable 
 ways, that the church-members had taken up the 
 cause of his wife against him, after the manner of 
 their kind. He drew the line, however, when her 
 pastor came to visit him and give advice which he 
 considered impertinent. 
 
 "You will pardon me," said the clergyman, "but 
 Sister Brixton is very dear to our congregation, and 
 we know it is the desire of her heart that her hus- 
 band should be brought into the fold. Cannot I 
 persuade you to accompany her next Sunday?" 
 
 Mr. Brixton looked the speaker over from head to 
 foot. 
 
 " Next Sunday," he responded, slowly, " I have an 
 engagement to go driving." 
 
 The minister looked properly shocked. 
 
 "You have a little daughter," he said, upon 
 recovering, " who ought to be in one of our Sunday- 
 School classes. If you would send her " 
 
 " She is too young to understand such matters," 
 said Brixton. " When she is old enough to judge I 
 shall allow her to do as she chooses." 
 
 This shocked the minister even more than the 
 remark which had preceded it. 
 
 " I am sorry you hold those views," he said, with 
 a modest cough. " Of course I do not question your 
 right to think as you please. But I want to ask you 
 if you would object, in case her mother wished to 
 take the child "
 
 FOKGIVENESS AND DEATH. 107 
 
 Then Brixton's eyes flashed and he forgot his good 
 nature. 
 
 "I should object decidedly," he retorted, rising to 
 leave the room. " I wish you good-day." 
 
 The conversation was held in his office, and he left 
 the clergyman standing there looking at the door 
 that had closed behind his late companion. 
 
 The report of these scenes, duly spread among 
 the congregation of the church Mrs. Brixton at- 
 tended, drew forth a unanimous opinion that 
 Mr. Brixton was a wretch. Some of the ladies 
 remarked audibly that they wished he had them to 
 deal with for awhile. A committee, self-formed for 
 the purpose, called at the residence of Mrs. Brixton 
 to condole with her. 
 
 " It is a shame, the way he treats you," said one 
 sweet creature, who weighed about three hundred 
 pounds. " If it were my case I would apply for a 
 divorce; yes, 1 would." 
 
 "Oh, no, you quite misunderstand the matter," 
 protested Mrs. Brixton, confusedly. 
 
 " Not at all !" exclaimed another lady, who had 
 reached the age of sixty and who might have tipped 
 the scales, in the buff, at seventy-five. " If I were 
 you, Mrs. Brixton, I would take her to church in 
 spite of him. A man has no right to dictate what 
 shall be done with a girl, any way !" 
 
 It was in the hottest season of the year, and the 
 door that led from Mrs. Brixton's rooms into the 
 hallway was wide open. Blanche heard every word 
 from the parlor, where she was sitting, with a book 
 in her hand, and her young bosom swelled with 
 indignation. When the committee came downstairs 
 she met them, her eyes flashing defiance.
 
 108 OUT OF "WEDLOCK. 
 
 "You need not come here again," she cried, "if 
 you want to say such things about my father f 
 He knows better than you whether I ought to go 
 anywhere or not. You are mean, cruel things to 
 call him names, and I shall tell him just as soon as 
 he comes home !" 
 
 The ladies drew their skirts closer around them. 
 
 "What a forward child!" said the stoutest one. 
 *' Really, I never heard anything quite so impu- 
 dent !" 
 
 " Most extr'ordin'ry !" declared another. " If she 
 were mine I should spank her and put her to bed." 
 
 Blanche, who in her brief life had never had such 
 language addressed to her, walked up to the latter 
 speaker and put her face within five inches of hers. 
 
 " Would you !" she cried, passionately. " Per- 
 haps you are not big enough !" 
 
 At this unpleasant juncture Brixton arrived. He 
 stared from one 2o another of the women who filled 
 his hallway, and then at his daughter, almost 
 hysterical with anger. 
 
 " Blanche, my darling," he said, " what is the mat- 
 ter?" 
 
 The child flew to his arms, and her voice was full 
 of sobs as she replied : 
 
 " They said you were a a brute ! and that you 
 had no right to say what should be done with me, 
 because I am a girl ! And that mother ought to 
 take me to church in spite of you ! And when I 
 told them they must not call you names they said I 
 ought to be whipped !" 
 
 Brixton turned and surveyed the group of women. 
 He controlled himself with difficulty. All he did 
 was to raise his arm and point meaningly to the
 
 FOBGIVKKE88 ATID DEATH. 109 
 
 door. Not caring to prolong the interview the com- 
 mittee filed out of it as fast as they were able. When 
 the last one had gone he closed the door somewhat 
 loudly behind her. Then he touched a bell that 
 stood on the table. 
 
 " Bridget," he said, as the domestic of that name 
 made her appearance, " I do not wish you to admit 
 any of those people who have been here to-day, 
 should they call again." 
 
 Taking Blanche into the sitting-room he ques- 
 tioned her closely about the entire affair, and then 
 bade her forget it as soon as possible. 
 
 From this time till Blanche was thirteen years of 
 age there was little if any change in the arrange- 
 ments of the Brixton household. After that I be- 
 came a frequent visitor, and saw with my own eyes 
 a great deal that was going on. The first time 
 I met Mrs. Brixton was at a dinner to which I was 
 invited. There was something very pathetic in her 
 pale face, her nearly white hair and her subdued 
 demeanor. She was like a criminal who is permitted 
 for form's sake to dine at the table with others who 
 have not forfeited their right to consideration. 
 Within a few weeks, however, I became such an 
 intimate friend of the family that I dropped in at 
 all sorts of hours and began to see her alone. Mrs. 
 Drew also came to stay a few weeks and I got well 
 acquainted with her and won her confidence. Thus, 
 little by little, those parts of my story that could not 
 be obtained from Brixton were woven into the woof 
 along with his recital. 
 
 I did not take sides with either faction, and I do 
 not intend to do so now. Dr. Robertson used to 
 talk with me a good deal, when he found the post*
 
 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 tion in which I stood, and I have seldom met a more 
 interesting man. It was he who told me, at a time 
 when Blanche was about fifteen years of age, that 
 Mrs. Brixton would not live through the summer. 
 He had informed no one else, and he cautioned me 
 to say nothing. There was little to be gained by 
 hastening the knowledge of any of the family on 
 this point. 
 
 A few days before Mrs. Brixton breathed her last 
 she began to realize her situation. When the doctor 
 told her that she would not recover she neither said 
 nor acted as if the news gave her pain. She had 
 but one thought Blanche. 
 
 "She must forgive me, before I die !" she said, 
 over and over. " She must forgive me ! Doctor, 
 tell her what is going to happen. She will not 
 refuse, when she understands it is her las* op- 
 portunity !" 
 
 The physician promised to speak to the child at 
 once. 
 
 "And your husband ?" he added. "Is there any- 
 thing you wish me to say to him ?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " No, no ! Only Blanche ! All I ask is to have 
 Blanche say she forgives me !" 
 
 Dr. Robertson prepared the young mind as well 
 as he could for the interview so keenly desired. He 
 told her that a very few days would elapse before 
 her mother would be beyond the sound of her voice, 
 and that she must do everything possible to soothe 
 the troubled spirit before its flight. 
 
 " But what does she wish ?" asked the girl. 
 
 " She wants you to forgive her," replied the 
 doctor, solemnly.
 
 FORGIVENESS AND DEATH. Ill 
 
 Blanche eyed him wistfully. 
 
 "I never quite understood what she had done to 
 me," she answered, slowly. " I have always known 
 that something stood between her and my father ; 
 but he has never told me what it was, and I have 
 hesitated to ask him- If you would explain, doctor, 
 it might help me." 
 
 The worthy man of medicine felt a tingle go 
 through all his nerves. 
 
 " I would not go too deep into it, if I were you," 
 he said. " Your mother is dying. Sh^ wants to 
 have you say that you forgive her. All you need to 
 answer is that you do." 
 
 The young girl's eyes gazed fearlessly into those of 
 her companion. 
 
 "Should one say she forgives without even know* 
 ing the injury?" she asked. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " when the person who asks 
 it is on her deathbed. We cannot carry our resent- 
 ments into the next world, no matter how deep the 
 hurt." 
 
 Blanche did not know about this. She wanted to 
 understand the reason why her home had been such 
 'a strange one in its relations between father, mother 
 and child. The next morning, when she went up to 
 Mrs. Brixton's room, she felt that she stood at the 
 threshold of a great secret. 
 
 "I am going to die !" said the pale lips. "lam 
 not as sorry for that as you, so full of youth and 
 health, might think. But before I go I must hear 
 three little words from your lips, Blanche just these 
 three ' I forgive you.' " 
 
 The daughter did not answer for several seconds. 
 
 " Can't you say it ?" asked the feeble voice.
 
 112 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 " Mother," said the child, raising her eyes, "I don't 
 know what you have done that requires to be for- 
 given." 
 
 The sick woman half raised herself on the pillow. 
 
 " Don't you ?" she asked, breathlessly. " Has he 
 never told you ?" 
 
 " No one has told me," said Blanche. " If you 
 mean father, he has not said a word. I asked Dr. 
 Robertson yesterday and he would not tell me, 
 either. What is it you did to me, mother, that has 
 made all this sorrow and pain ?" 
 
 The invalid sank back in her place. How could 
 she tell this child, in language such as she could 
 comprehend ? It was a task for which she had not 
 prepared herself. Ten long minutes went by, during 
 which there was no sound in the room, and then, 
 with a sudden effort, Mrs. Brixton put her hand on 
 that of her daughter, and began to speak rapidly. 
 
 44 Blanche, when the Almighty called you out of 
 his infinite wisdom to come to this earth, I tried to 
 thwart his will. I knew that the bearing of a child 
 meant suffering for a woman. I was selfish and did 
 not want to assume the care of an infant. I was too 
 content with ease to be willing to carry out my des- 
 tiny, to fulfill the obligations that go with the wed- 
 ded bond. I did what others have done, what hun- 
 dreds are still, I fear, doing, made preparations to 
 still the life in you before it came into the world. 
 By Heaven's mercy I was prevented from carrying 
 out my plan. In the anger that followed I refused to 
 look at you, to give you a mother's care. My hus- 
 band and I were torn asunder by my conduct. I 
 came to my senses years after, and conceived as 
 strong a love as ever found rest in a mother's heart,
 
 FORGIVENESS AND DEATH. 113 
 
 but it was too late to undo what I had done. 
 Since that day I have endured a punishment such as 
 I never dreamed could befall a human being. If 
 death releases me from it, then I shall welcome 
 death. But I cannot rest even in the grave unless I 
 have your forgiveness. Blanche, speak only those 
 words, that I may rest in peace." 
 
 The young heart beat rapidly. She understood 
 every syllable that had been said to her. Bowing 
 her head she whispered the words as directed, and 
 allowed her mother to press her pallid lips to her 
 forehead. Then she arose and slowly left the 
 chamber. 
 
 Dr. Robertson had come in and she met him at 
 the foot of the stairs. 
 
 " Have you seen her ?" he asked, anxiously, and 
 when she nodded he looked the question he did not 
 put into words. 
 
 " Yes, I told her I forgave her. I thought as you 
 did that it was right to say so, if it would make her 
 last hours brighter." 
 
 The doctor stared at the young face, drawn with 
 new lines of grief. 
 
 "And it was not trut /" he exclaimed. "You do 
 not forgive her !" 
 
 " Oh, how could 1 1" cried Blanche, bursting into 
 tears.
 
 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 "THE RISK is TOO GREAT." 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Sanger was with Mrs. Brixton 
 during her last hours, as was also Ella Drew. Both 
 of them had been sent for at her request, and with 
 the full consent of her hnsband. Neither, after 
 listening to the dying wishes of the invalid, made 
 any demand upon him for his presence in the sick- 
 room. He had feared, in an uncomfortable mood, 
 that they would do so, and had not been quite able 
 to make up his mind what he should do if the call 
 came. A few hours before the end Blanche was 
 asked to come in again, and the lips that were so 
 soon to be silent forever thanked her for the for- 
 giveness she had pronounced on the previous day. 
 Once more a kiss was pressed on her forehead, softly 
 and calmly. 
 
 " I never saw a more placid death," said the Rev. 
 Mr. Sanger, in his sing-song way to Brixton, when 
 he calied to make arrangements about the funeral. 
 " It shows how little terror it has for one whose life 
 has been in accordance with the Divine precepcs. 
 May we all meet it with equal confidence," he added, 
 evidently as a side thrust at the husband. " The 
 dear departed requested me to conduct the services 
 over her remains. I would like to hear any sugges- 
 tions you wish to make in reference to the matter." 
 
 Mrs. Drew was sitting in the room with the
 
 "THE BISK WAS TOO GREAT." 115 
 
 gentlemen, but Blanche was absent at the moment. 
 Brixton moved uneasily in his chair. 
 
 44 Let me tell you, then, to begin with," said he, 
 " that your services must be very brief and simple. 
 There is to be no parading of family affairs, either 
 by allusion or inuendo. You may read the burial 
 service, if you wish, and have a hymn sung. But 
 that is all." 
 
 Mr. Sanger's ministerial eyes dilated. He had 
 supposed that at this stage he would be allowed to 
 have his own way, much as a coroner does at an 
 inquest. He had known many " unbelievers " who 
 quailed in the presence of the pastor, and permitted 
 a funeral that irritated them merely because they 
 had not the nerve to dictate to the contrary. Before 
 his astonishment permitted him to frame a reply, 
 Brixton spoke again. 
 
 "Another thing," he said. "There will be no 
 persons present except my own small circle of 
 intimate friends and the servants of the house. 
 That body upstairs is not to be paraded before the 
 eyes of the public. You will be allowed ten 
 minutes to finish your readings and prayers. And 
 if there is the remotest reference to the ' sorrowing 
 husband ' the affair will be cut short summarily. I 
 know the tricks you are capable of, sir, and I warn 
 you I will have none of them !" 
 
 Mrs. Drew murmured " George !" as if to remind 
 him of the solemnity of the subject, but he would 
 not heed her. 
 
 " I am not going to tell the story of my estrange- 
 ment from that lady to you," he went on, looking 
 straight at the clergyman. " I will say, however, 
 that we have not been husband and wife except in
 
 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 name, for sixteen years. Although there have been 
 times when I held hard feelings toward her, *f 
 believe, upon my soul, all vindictiveness is over 
 now. I simply desire to have none of those things 
 which our circumstances would make ridiculous. 
 Promise what I ask, and I shall have nothing more 
 to say." 
 
 Mr. Sanger replied, haltingly, that it would be a 
 great disappointment to the members of his con- 
 gregation, who had a very high regard for Sister 
 Brixton, and who had hoped the services would be 
 held in his church. He also had prepared ahem ! 
 a brief tribute to her womanly virtues and Christian 
 fortitude in the midst of her sufferings. And it 
 seemed to him 
 
 "I know, I know," interrupted Brixton. "I 
 understand all that, but you can't do it. The only 
 question is, will you come here and perform the ser- 
 vice I suggest, or shall I send for another minister ?'* 
 
 With several hems and haws the clergyman finally 
 gave the requisite promise, though sorely disap- 
 pointed. He had intended to give the husband 
 some very neat raps before a large and appreciative 
 audience. On the day of the funeral he kept reason- 
 ably close to his agreement, though one or two 
 allusions to his hope that this occasion would prove 
 a blessing to those still without the consolations of 
 religion grated on Brixton's nervous ears. 
 
 The conduct of Blanche was noticeable. She sat 
 by the side of her father, listening to all that was 
 said and watching all that was done, with the quiet, 
 well-bred air of a well-trained girl of her age. On 
 the way to the cemetery she held one of his hands 
 in hers, but neither of them uttered a word. Shf
 
 "THE BISK WAS TOO GREAT." 117 
 
 shuddered a little as the sods were thrown on the 
 coffin, but there were no tears from either father 
 or daughter, though Mrs. Drew and Minnie, who 
 nad come, and Mrs. Reynolds, and the servants, 
 wept copiously. When the party returned to the 
 house, Blanche felt its emptiness that void which the 
 dead always leave in the habitations where they have 
 been known. 
 
 She had grown older, in the week that was past. 
 She could no longer be spoken of as a child. Every- 
 one of the household noticed it. She gave direc- 
 tions, and suggested things, and assumed control of 
 the premises as she had never done before. And all 
 the time she was thinking, thinking, thinking ! 
 
 The only thing that was left in her conduct that 
 reminded us of the little girl we had known was the 
 love for her dolls. It was a wonder to see her, after 
 giving orders about the house that took Reynolds' 
 breath away, sit down to her work-basket and sew 
 on a new dress or a set of underclothing for one of 
 her inanimate charges. She took her hair that had 
 hung in a braid and wound it in a knot at the back 
 of her head ; she had her dresses let down several 
 inches ; she looked and acted, in everything but one, 
 three years older than she was. But the dolls found 
 her the same careful mother that she had been when 
 she first learned the use of needle and thread. 
 
 The neighbors' children the very tiniest ones 
 were also brought in as frequently, if not more so, 
 than before. The spectacle of a dozen of the mid* 
 gets on her nursery floor at once, entertained in a 
 fashion that delighted their young hearts, was one 
 that I saw many times during the next year, in my 
 calls at the house. She never seemed so happy aa
 
 118 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 when surrounded with these Liliputians, one of them 
 in her lap and the others babbling in chorus about 
 her feet. 
 
 One evening it was fully a year after Mrs. Brix- 
 ton's funeral I happened to be spending an hour 
 with my friends. Mrs. Drew was there, and her 
 husband, and Brixton, of course, and Blanche was 
 occupied with one of her children's parties, in the 
 manner above described. As usual, when she was 
 present, the young girl was the centre of attraction 
 for all of us, and our conversation turned mainly 
 upon the little visitors. 
 
 " I'll tell you what you ought to dr>, Blanche," 
 said Mrs. Drew. "You should found an orphan 
 asylum. Amusing children is evidently your forte. 
 I think you are never quite happy unless you have 
 them near you." 
 
 Blanche held a blue-eyed boy in her lap at the 
 moment, and was engaged in trying to make a part 
 in his very thin, curly hair. 
 
 "Yes," she replied. " I do love them. It always 
 makes me sad when I have to send them home." 
 
 "Blanche will be a splendid mother," interposed 
 Mr. Drew, and I felt at the instant that he had put 
 his foot in it. 
 
 The girl leaned toward us, as we sat in the group 
 watching her, and her sweet face lit up with a radi- 
 ance wonderful to behold. 
 
 " Oh, I hope so !" she said, softly, clasping her 
 hands together. " What must it be to feel that one 
 of these creatures is your own your very own ! 
 Yes, Mr. Drew, it is what I long for, what I dream 
 of at night. I have seen it in visions, that little
 
 "THE BISK WAS TOO GREAT." 119 
 
 uaby nestling close against my heart, touching my 
 face with its velvet fingers, breathing zephyrs upon 
 my neck !" 
 
 I felt my cheeks reddening, and was ashamed at 
 the sensation. In the presence of such purity what 
 right had a mistaken education to manifest its 
 teachings in the movements of my blood ? I 
 glanced at the others. Brixton was smiling upon 
 his daughter, as if he fully approved of what she 
 said. Mrs. Drew's hand had stolen across that of 
 her husband, to warn him not to pursue the subject 
 farther. With a man's lack of tact, however, he 
 tried to set things right, and made matters worse. 
 
 " It will be a long time before you can think of 
 marriage," he suggested. 
 
 Blanche straightened up in her chair ; and the 
 child in her lap, realizing that he was being tem- 
 porarily neglected, pulled at the tiny brush she had 
 been using and proceeded to disarrange the locks 
 she had straightened out. 
 
 " Marriage !" she repeated. " I do not think I 
 shall ever marry. The risk is too great to run." 
 
 I glanced at Brixton again, and on his face was 
 the same smile of approval, that same contented 
 look that always illumined it whenever his daughter 
 was near. 
 
 Blanche turned again to her charge and resumed 
 her motherly attentions, while Mrs. Drew, with the 
 tact that her husband did not possess, began speak- 
 ing of matters outside the house. 
 
 It had turned out, after Mrs. Brixton's decease, 
 that George was now a very prosperous man. His 
 experiments had resulted in producing the most 
 popular baking powder on the market, and he owned
 
 120 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 considerably the largest share of the stock in the com- 
 pany for which he had formerly worked. During 
 the lifetime of his wife this fact had been kept 
 secret, but later the true state of affairs was made 
 public. In his generosity he had allowed Mr. Drew 
 to purchase several shares at a nominal rate, when 
 the capital was being increased, as a token of his 
 esteem for that gentleman and his wife. It was his 
 intention to retire from active labor soon and make 
 a long tour abroad with his daughter. 
 
 "I am rich enough," he said, in reply to some 
 remark that was made. " I little thought, when I 
 entered the chemical works at Markham, that I 
 should be able to own most of the concern within a 
 quarter-century. The business has got beyond the 
 possibility of failure. My goods are sold in every 
 hamlet of the country, and are even being exported 
 in large quantities. And yet," he added, with a 
 touch of pathos in his voice, " my life has been a 
 failure, after all." 
 
 The babies had now been dispatched to their 
 several homes, and Miss Blanche was sitting with 
 the rest of us, listening to the conversation. Her 
 face clouded as she heard these words. 
 
 " Don't say that, father !" she protested. 
 
 " I must say it," he replied, putting his arm 
 around the young form. " All the best of my youth 
 was spent in mental darkness. There is something 
 wrong with our marriage system. The women of 
 to-day have an idea that wedlock is a mere pastime, 
 in which all the pleasure and none of the responsi- 
 bilities are to be theirs. I sometimes think it is 
 time the entire institution was abolished that we 
 returned to a more natural state of living. Public
 
 "THE RISK WAS TOO GREAT." 121 
 
 opinion ties many a couple together through weary 
 years, when the best interests of both demand a 
 separation. There are exceptions, of course, like 
 you'rs, Mr. Drew, but I question if they are not in a 
 great minority. What can compensate a man like 
 me for the suffering I underwent during the first five 
 years of my marriage ?" 
 
 I looked at Blanche, uneasy that she should hear 
 this debate, but she seemed so much older than 
 formerly, so much wiser, that my fears were quieted. 
 
 " You ought to remember," replied Mrs. Drew, 
 " that your wife acknowledged her errors and bit- 
 terly repented of them. It is unfair to arraign 
 matrimony on account of one unfortunate experi- 
 ence. Besides, there is no use in abusing an institu- 
 tion without which the world would soon come to 
 an end." 
 
 I had never heard this lady speak so earnestly. She 
 appeared as if defending her sex in a body from the 
 assaults of all time. 
 
 " If that happened if the world came to an end," 
 retorted Brixton, good-naturedly, " the only harm 
 that would result, so far as I can see, would be a 
 falling off in the sale of my baking powder. But 
 you need have no fear that the human race is going 
 to die out on account of any change in the ideas 
 regarding marriage. Before a great many years, 
 my dear Mrs. Drew, there will be such a renovation 
 of the status of woman that each one will select the 
 father of her children, and dispense with his society 
 whenever she finds it agreeable to do so. Then the 
 thing we now call marriage will be looked back 
 upon as an unaccountable custom of a benighted 
 age."
 
 OUT OF WEDLOCk. 
 
 Mrs. LMCW rallied .to the emergency without delay. 
 
 "You controvert your own position," said she, 
 boldly. "The greatest fault you ever found with a 
 woman was her disinclination to become a mother. 
 In the time you predict will not she be even less 
 willing to assume that position ?" 
 
 Blanche listened intently. I wondered what they 
 could be thinking of to utter such tilings in her 
 presence ; but they seemed to say them, not only in 
 spite of her being there, but for her special benefit. 
 
 "Women will be honest, when that time comes," 
 said Brixton, "and honesty is the chief of all virtues, 
 it seems to me. The hypocrisy that obtains to-day 
 is simply horrible. Women and men enter into a 
 marriage contract, in which certain things are 
 specified and others understood. Then one of them, 
 deliberately, with malice aforethought, as the indict- 
 ments say, sets to work to deceive the other in a 
 point of first importance. In other words, she 
 cheats and defrauds her partner, as no one would 
 think of doing in any other business that is trans- 
 acted. The way to make the world honest is to give 
 woman greater freedom. Take away the incentive 
 to falsehood and she will rise above the petty mean- 
 nesses that she now employs. I do not blame you 
 for criticizing me. I cannot defend myself for my 
 conduct toward Mrs. Brixton, except on the princi- 
 ple by which we meet a burglar with any weapon 
 that is convenient. When I discovered her deception 
 I felt insulted, robbed, outraged ! I acted as a man 
 driven wild is liable to act. Enfranchise woman 
 make her economically free and such questions 
 cannot arise. It will be for her to say whether she 
 will be a mother, and no man can question her
 
 AN ARTIFICIAL RULE. 123 
 
 decision. To-day she enters into a contract which 
 common honesty requires her to keep and a con- 
 tract rmide by two persons cannot be broken at the 
 whim of one of them without danger of protest when 
 the discovery is made !" 
 
 Then he turned abruptly, to my consternation, 
 and put this inquiry to Blanche : 
 
 "What do you think about it, dear?" 
 
 The girl raised her sweet eyes to her father. 
 
 " I don't know as I can tell you, exactly," she 
 said. "I am sure I am almost sure, at least that 
 / never shall marry." 
 
 " And yet you told us a little while ago," exclaimed 
 Mrs. Drew, unguardedly, " that it was the hope of 
 your life to have a child of your own." 
 
 " Yes," said Blanche, softly, turning her slow gaze 
 toward the speaker. 
 
 It was with one movement that we looked at 
 Brixton. Surely he would protest with vigor when 
 he heard this home assumption of the doctrine he 
 had been advancing. 
 
 But he only stroked the hair of the daughter who 
 was dearer than life to him, and smiled at her with 
 the same affectionate gaze. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AN ARTIFICIAL RULE. 
 
 I do not want to make my story more circumstan- 
 tial than is absolutely necessary to show you the 
 way in which the central idea of Miss Brixton's life
 
 124 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 was formed and grew until it controlled her actions. 
 Most of us are what our parentage and environments 
 have made us. The thoughts that fill our brains 
 have not come there at random. They are the pro- 
 duct of what we have seen and heard and read, 
 combined with our natural and inherited bents and 
 inclinations. Under other circumstances this girl 
 would never have entertained the dreams that now 
 influenced her. Under still other, but different ones, 
 she would have had them dispelled by the counsels 
 of those set to be her teachers and advisers. In 
 order to understand how she has come to her 
 present beliefs, in spite of the world, and has even 
 had the courage to act upon them, you must know 
 each step she took on that strange path. 
 
 Brixton had loved his child from her birth -, 
 indeed as he himself said to me more than once 
 from a time long anterior to it. As she grew to 
 woman's estate this love deepened into adoration. 
 Whatever Blanche did was right ; her conduct must 
 not be questioned. He would have fought the uni- 
 verse for her sake, convinced that a concensus of 
 opinion was worthless if it opposed hers. In return 
 she gave him the fullest confidence and veneration. 
 They talked together more like brother and sister 
 husband and wife, if you will than father and 
 daughter. He had never drawn any line that she 
 feared to pass. She asked him every question that 
 came into her head as freely as if he were her 
 mother and physician combined. 
 
 When Blanche reached the age of eighteen she 
 began a systematic study of medicine. She seized 
 upon its revelations with the ardor of a young dis- 
 coverer. Dr. Robertson asked her banteringly if
 
 AW ARTIFICIAL BULB. 125 
 
 she intended to practice, and try to take his patients 
 away from him. He was astonished at the things 
 she learned in an incredibly brief space of time. 
 She devoured the text-books as if they were cara- 
 mels, and clung to volumes of lectures with all the 
 delight usually shown for a romance. At the end 
 of a year she triumphantly announced to the good 
 physician that she knew as much as he, in relation 
 to one of the greatest problems of life. 
 
 "And yet," she added, thoughtfully, "I know no 
 more than every woman ought to know. I have 
 only got acquainted with Myself. How do so many 
 dare enter a state of motherhood with their eyes 
 blinded by total ignorance ?" 
 
 Motherhood, motherhood ! Always motherhood ! 
 
 "You must not get false ideas, my child," said 
 Dr. Robertson. " While there are women too ignor- 
 ant, there is also such a thing as being too wise." 
 
 "In what way ?" she asked, eagerly. "You know 
 a great deal, doctor, and I want you to be frank, if 
 you think I am making a mistake." 
 
 " Well, to be plain," he replied, " our great-grand- 
 mothers knew almost nothing about these things 
 and yet they got along very well. Nature is worth 
 relying on a little. She has done pretty fairly, take 
 it altogether, during the last fifty or sixty thousand 
 years. It is bad policy for a man in my profession 
 to say this, for maternity cases put a pretty penny 
 in our pockets ; but when a girl like you asks for the 
 truth, you should have it. Another thing, Mist 
 Blanche, while we are on this subject. There is no 
 motherhood outside of wedlock that can be tolerated 
 in a civilized country none that will not bring to
 
 126 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 its possessor a terrible load of ignominy and suffer- 
 ing." 
 
 He told me afterward that he was driven to this 
 direct statement by the suggestions that had been 
 dropped from time to time in his presence. He had 
 been medical adviser to this family for nearly 
 twenty years, and had seen some pretty hard 
 moments there. He did not mean to be remiss in a 
 duty as plain as this one, just for the sake of choos- 
 ing delicate language or special occasions. 
 
 Miss Brixton's eyes brightened as she listened to 
 him. She was very glad the subject had been intro- 
 duced. 
 
 " Wise men have been mistaken before now," she 
 answered, deliberately. " Tell me one thing before 
 we go any farther : Is the rule of which you speak 
 a natural or an artificial one ?" 
 
 He smiled at the casuistic vein that he could 
 discern. _ 
 
 " Artificial, decidedly," he responded. "So is 
 everything in our lives, for that matter. You live 
 in a house, while a savage occupies a hut. You eat 
 with a knife and fork, he with his fingers. You wear 
 clothes, even it* the hottest part of the summer ; he 
 dispenses with them when they do not suit his 
 fancy. We can't run against the dictum of Society, 
 my dear girl, any more than we can against the law 
 of gravitation, without getting hurt. But in refer- 
 ence to this matter, even the lowest savages have 
 some form of marriage, the taking in a public man- 
 ner of wife and husband. Look the entire world 
 over, you will find it everywhere." 
 
 The young lady nodded. 
 
 '* Yes, I have learned all that," she said. " la
 
 AJST ARTIFICIAL RULE. 127 
 
 southern Ainca the suitor has to pay a certain num- 
 ber of cows for his bride, while in parts of Europe 
 he father lias to give the cows to induce the lover 
 to take her away. Women are captured by horse- 
 men, bought in the market, cajoled by soft words, 
 frightened by the fear of being old maids, seduced 
 by love of finery, persuaded by the lack of other 
 means to find bread. But, doctor, let us consider 
 my special case, not the subject in the abstract. I 
 am rich and independent. I have one craze that fills 
 my waking and my sleeping hours. It is to have a 
 child of my own ! Now, merely because it is the 
 custom, must I go through a ceremony that will 
 bind me to some man I do not love, as long as we 
 both shall live ?" 
 
 The doctor regarded her with quiet gravity. He 
 saw that she was wholly in earnest in her strange 
 proposition. 
 
 "Wait a minute," said he. "You are young 
 eighteen, I think. Who can tell that your hero will 
 not come to you within a few years, the man with 
 whom you will be glad and proud to take your place 
 as long as you remain on the earth ?" 
 
 " There is no such man," said Blanche, posi- 
 tively. " The only man I shall care for is my father. 
 And if I liked one ever so much, the demands of 
 matrimony would make me hate him in a very short 
 time. To know that I was tied to him, that I had 
 got to love him, would take away any affection I 
 might have developed. Besides, when the baby 
 came, I could think of nothing but the child ! Its 
 father would be so neglected that he would have a 
 right to complain, and then would come recrim- 
 inations, quarrels, a divorce. How much better to
 
 128 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 avoid all this by violating one little canon of what 
 you call Society, and making a law to suit my partic- 
 ular emergency." 
 
 How pure and sweet she looked, as she thus threw 
 down the gauntlet to all the human race ! No pas- 
 sion but that of maternity filled her young soul. Dr. 
 Robertson knew that a low or unworthy thought 
 could not enter that vestal mind. Blanche had 
 become a very handsome woman by this time, as she 
 is still. Her body was well made, and of medium 
 height ; her limbs slender but round ; her hair dark 
 and combed back in a roll from her broad forehead ; 
 her eyes large and intelligent ; her mouth sensitive ; 
 her lips neither too thin nor too full. 
 
 " I can only answer you," he replied, after a pause, 
 ** as I have done already. The notion you are harbor- 
 ing is simply preposterous. You will see it yourself, 
 if you give the matter thought enough. And here 
 is something that will show you at one glance how 
 ridiculous the idea is. You would want, for your 
 child's father, would you not, a man of good princi- 
 ples, one whose mental and physical endowment 
 would be worth copying ! How, in the name of 
 Heaven, could such a man be found to join in a 
 wicked and foolish onslaught against the plainest 
 laws of an intelligent community ?" 
 
 Miss Brixton bowed as he finished. 
 
 " In that last thought," she replied,, you have 
 struck the only rock which I have seen in my course. 
 It has occurred to me, exactly as you have suggested 
 it ; but there may be cases that prove an exception to 
 the rule. I can imagine a man good enough to be 
 my child's father, and noble enough to appreciate 
 the sentiments that thrill me. I can conceive of such
 
 JJT ARTIFICIAL BULK. 129 
 
 a one relinquishing all claim to me whenever I should 
 request it, as men do other high and honorable acts, 
 because it was his duty ! Doctor," she continued 
 leaning toward him and speaking in a low voice, " I 
 have a greater hope than the satisfying of this de- 
 vouring anxiety to own a child I want to prove to 
 other women, in a like situation, that matrimony is 
 not essential. Unwedded mothers have met with 
 the world's scorn hitherto because they have become 
 so through surrendering all that was best and 
 bravest in their natures. I wish to show the world 
 such a mother, actuated only by her highest ideals, 
 that it may note the difference. You cannot claim 
 that the two kinds of women would stand on the 
 same plane." 
 
 Dr. Robertson was growing uneasier every moment. 
 He did not intend, by the least inadvertence, to give 
 the impression that he thought she had the right of 
 her argument, in the remotest degree. 
 
 - What a child you are !" he exclaimed. " If you 
 had mingled a little more with your sex you would 
 know that they are poor logicians. They have been 
 taught from their cradles, and from the cradles of 
 their remotest civilized ancestor, that a child born 
 out of wedlock curses itself and its mother. The 
 world would have no faith in your purity merely 
 because you claimed to possess it. You would be 
 ostracized by all the women you would care to know, 
 and avoided by the rest of mankind. One of the 
 requisites of living in comfort is to maintain a good 
 reputation. Destroy it by such a silly plan as you 
 are carrying in that head of yours, and life will 
 prove too short to regain it. Blanche, if this goes on, 
 I shall have to talk with your father !'
 
 130 OUT OF WEDLOCK 
 
 This threat, if meant for one, only brougn. iiiile 
 
 to the girl's thoughtful countenance. 
 
 "We have discussed it a hundred times," she said. 
 
 " And lie approves !" cried the doctor. 
 
 " Well," was the slow answer, " I don't think he 
 does, entirely. But he lias faith in me. He wants 
 me to follow my ideals. If everyone else said I was 
 in the wrong he would stand by me. That is the 
 kind of father to have." 
 
 Dr. Robertson stamped his foot on the carpet. 
 
 " The kind of father to have," he corrected, " is 
 one that would drive such nonsense out of your head 
 as soon as he detected it there. He would know 
 you were laying the foundation of a life of misery." 
 
 "Could it be worse than the one he led ?" asked 
 the girl, quickly. " He was married, for many years, 
 to a woman whom he thoroughly distrusted and dis- 
 liked. Under the system in which you believe she 
 might have borne him half-a-dozen children, while 
 abating nothing of the hatred that filled her. In 
 that way motherhood becomes not only an accident, 
 but a sad and unfortunate one." 
 
 The medical man fidgeted in his chair, and tapped 
 the table repeatedly with a ruler that he had 
 picked up. 
 
 " You are two or three centuries ahead of your 
 time,** said he. "When the reign of all that is good 
 comes in, and woman has her own pocket-book the 
 world over, I have no doubt some will adopt 
 your scheme. But you cannot enter into this sort 
 of thing alone. Why, you couldn't put on the cos- 
 tume of an Asiatic and walk down Broadway with- 
 out attracting a crowd, of hoodlums. We have to 
 inarch pretty nearly to the step of the procession.
 
 AH ARTIFICIAL RULE. 131 
 
 Marriage has its drawbacks, I admit. So does 
 travelling by rail. I had a friend smashed up in a 
 train a month ago, but if I want to go to San 
 Francisco I sha'n't walk ! Keep in the ranks, little 
 one. All the men are not as black as your fancy 
 paints them. I will undertake to find you a nice, 
 respectable, gentlemanly sort of a man, if you will 
 give me a commission to that end, who will treat 
 you like a precious jewel of a wife, as you deserve 
 to be. You shall have your husband, and your 
 baby yes, a dozen babies, if you choose and all the 
 proprieties, which are more important than you seem 
 to think, will still be observed." 
 
 Blanche refused to be convinced. She had learned 
 from infancy to detest marriage. To her it meant a 
 scowling husband in one part of the house and a 
 discontented wife in another. She had seen unhappy 
 families' besides the one of which she formed a part. 
 The really felicitous ones that she knew could be 
 counted much more quickly. But the children the 
 little sunbeams that kept these homes from utter 
 darkness they were all lovely, all beautiful, in her 
 eyes. 
 
 A child of her own ! She pined for it, as the 
 traveller on a long voyage pines for the shore. She 
 craved it as the weary tramper craves the shelter 
 that is at his journey's end. She gazed with swim* 
 ming eyes on each young cherub she saw and mur- 
 mured, " Oh, if it were only mine !" 
 
 Though without much religious training, she 
 used to pray to the good God above that he would 
 send her the desire of her heart. In her artless 
 phrase she told him of the care she would give it,
 
 132 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 of tne pains she would take to teach it what was 
 pure and right. 
 
 Dr. Robertson talked with Mr. and Mrs. Drew 
 about this strange freak, as he called it, and they 
 tried, as well as he, to bring Mr. Brixton to make a 
 decided stand. All in vain. He said Blanche should 
 be her own judge in everything. All that he had 
 was hers. He would not attempt to influence her 
 when her mind and conscience were set in any given 
 direction. 
 
 There was serious talk of calling in a commission 
 in lunacy to decide whether the father was not 
 insane, but a sudden attack of illness turned all our 
 thoughts in another direction. One day, when both 
 the Drews and Dr. Robertson were present at din- 
 ner, as well as myself, Brixton was attacked with 
 partial paralysis. Though he recovered enough in 
 a few days to attend to his business affairs, the physi- 
 cian told us that he could not rely on a much longer 
 lease of life. 
 
 "I want the truth, doctor," said the patient. " I 
 am not one of those to whom you need fear being 
 perfectly frank." 
 
 And he got it. He might live six months, at the 
 outside. He might have another attack within a 
 week that would render him incapable of motion. 
 
 I never expect to witness anything more perfect 
 in its way than the closing days of George Brixton's 
 earthly existence. He brought to bear the calm 
 philosophy of one who counts death a mere episode 
 in the career of mankind, one neither to be sought 
 nor avoided by undue means. His business affairs 
 were in such a condition, owing to his lifelong 
 habits of order, that but little time was required to
 
 AN ARTIFICIAL BULB. 13d 
 
 dispose of them. He designated to his attorney the 
 person whom he would select as manager, and 
 divulged several plans for increasing the output of 
 his product that he had hitherto kept to himself. 
 His will made provision for several bequests to 
 faithful employes, gave $10,000 to Minnie Drew, "in 
 recognition of the long friendship he had entertained 
 for her parents," and the rest, without restriction, to 
 his daughter. 
 
 Mr. Sparrow, the attorney, and myself, were to be 
 executors and trustees. These matters arranged, 
 Brixton devoted the balance of his time almost 
 altogether to Blanche. He met us at table, for 
 the board still held the little circle of friends that 
 had become so deeply attached to him, and for an 
 hour after dinner we always sat in the parlor 
 together. The rest of the time he gave to her who 
 was dearest to him. 
 
 It is a strange sensation to sit, day after day, with 
 one whose physician has told him that any moment 
 may see his vital powers numbed ; one who may, at 
 a second's warning, drop his head upon his breast 
 and utter his last gasp. But of us all, so far as 
 appearances showed, the one who bore the ordeal 
 the best was the self-poised daughter of our host. 
 She told me afterward that her father had directed 
 her to act precisely as usual, and thus give him the 
 strength he needed to face the parting. Each day 
 was arranged much as it would have been had he 
 been merely taking a business vacation. They rode 
 out together, read the papers and magazines, even 
 went to theatres occasionally. I have heard their 
 joint laughter coming from the next room, over
 
 134 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 some witticism made by one or the other, and a chill 
 has run down my spinal column. 
 
 Each time I ascended the front steps I looked to 
 see if the undertaker's insignia ornamented the 
 handle of the door. Each morning I scanned my 
 paper to see if among the news items there was an 
 account of the sudden decease of George Brixton, 
 the wealthy manufacturer. But it was quite four 
 months after the first shock before the second one. 
 
 Mrs. Drew was a religious woman, though, as 
 some one has remarked of a similar case, " not 
 offensively so." She did her best to persuade Brix- 
 ton to accept the offices of a minister of the church, 
 without exceeding the bounds of good taste. Smil- 
 ingly thanking her for her kindness, he refused to 
 accept her advice, saying that his views would not 
 permit him to do so. 
 
 "Your views?" she repeated. "What are your 
 views? Don't you believe in another life after this 
 one ?" 
 
 " I don't know," he replied, good-naturedly, " but 
 I mean to find out. Unless Dr. Robertson is mis- 
 taken I shall learn more about these matters in a 
 few weeks than any of these gentlemen who would 
 be so willing to instruct me can tell. I am not 
 impatient, Ella ; I can wait." 
 
 She was dissatisfied, but was unwilling to an- 
 noy him. 
 
 "It is surely well to repent of our sins," she 
 murmured. 
 
 "And I have repented of mine," he answered, 
 soberly. "Their punishment already has been very 
 heavy. If more is still due I will accept it uncom-
 
 AN ARTIFICIAL RULE. 13t> 
 
 i 
 
 plainingly. never yet asked a creditor to take 
 less than a hundred cents on the dollar." 
 
 When the inevitable hour came, Brixton passed, 
 seemingly without the least sensation of pain. He 
 was talking with Blanche in his library, and in the 
 midst of a sentence he stopped. She summoned 
 assistance and Dr. Robertson was sent for, but the 
 heart had ceased to beat before he arrived. The 
 daughter wept, it is true, but with a calmness that 
 surprised her friends, in spite of what they had 
 already witnessed. She answered all questions with 
 fortitude and made preparations for the obsequies, 
 saying she knew exactly what her father desired and 
 would not depart from it in the slightest degree. 
 
 It was not a funeral at all, judged by the usual 
 standard. The dead body lay during one forenoon 
 in the library where he had died, open to the gaze 
 of any of his acquaintances who cared to come 
 Hundreds of people, from the establishment of which 
 he had been the head, from the various concerns 
 that had dealt with him, and from the public at 
 large, passed into that room, stood for a moment by 
 the bier, and then went their ways. At one o'clock 
 the more intimate friends bade good-bye to the form 
 they had loved, the daughter last. 
 
 Five or six carriages followed the casket to its 
 burial place in Markham. Here the entire town 
 seemed to have turned out, but all they saw was 
 the reverent lowering of the coffin into its grave, 
 without a prayer or a hymn. 
 
 The next Sunday several clergymen took this 
 matter as a text for their sermons, calling the atten- 
 tion of their congregations to the "heathen-like" 
 interment, and thanking God that such events were
 
 136 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 rare indeed in this part of the world. No matter 
 how little men professed to believe in the Gospel 
 while they were living, they generally appealed to its 
 ministers when the dread Angel of Death had spread 
 its wings over them. So said the clergymen of 
 many churches, but not those of Markham. In that 
 town they realized the temper of the people too wel/ 
 and maintained a discreet silence. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PROFESSIONAL SERVICES. 
 
 One of the first things that Blanche did after the 
 funeral was to persuade the Drews to make their 
 home again with her. She had formed a deep 
 attachment for all of them, and especially for Minnie, 
 who was now a fine girl about twenty years of age. 
 Mrs. Drew, bearing in mind some of the peculiar 
 theories that Blanche was known to hold, hesitated 
 a little about throwing her daughter into the com- 
 pany of that young woman, but the consideration 
 that she herself would always be at hand to counter- 
 act any possible injurious effect turned the scale. 
 And, a very short time after the new arrangement 
 was made, an affair connected with her daughter 
 made all her care necessary in another direction. 
 
 Minnie fell in love ! 
 
 Now, there is nothing remarkable in a pretty girl 
 of twenty falling in love ; Mrs. Drew had supposed
 
 PROFESSIONAL SERVICES. 137 
 
 that such an event would happen in the course of 
 time with her daughter as well as others. But she 
 did not quite fancy the young man for whom Minnie 
 had gone through that process. 
 
 In this, it is only fair to state, she did not differ 
 from many other mothers. The fond parent is apt 
 to believe that there are few men fitted to mate with 
 the treasure they have been at such pains to prepare 
 for him. Young Mr. Bartlett seemed, however, in 
 the anxious eyes of this mother, to lack completely 
 the qualities which are essential to success in this 
 world, to have much less than is necessary of enter- 
 prise and push. 
 
 Although twenty-five years of age he still lived at 
 his father's, and apparently had no expectations 
 other than those which would come to him from 
 that source. He was a nice-appearing fellow, with 
 his clothes and hair well brushed, and his shoes 
 always polished. He made a very good sort of lover, 
 without doubt, but would he shine equally well as a 
 husband ? Mrs. Drew had grave doubts on this 
 score, and used to talk for hours to her husband 
 about it. 
 
 Stephen Drew listened to all that was said and 
 acquiesced in his wife's conclusions. He had never 
 done anything else since he had known her. He did 
 not suggest a way out of her difficulty, however, and 
 she did not expect that he would. Minnie loved the 
 young man with all her heart, and it looked more 
 dangerous to put the parental foot down and declare 
 that she must give him up than to risk the other 
 horn of the dilemma. So it was settled that they 
 were to be married, and the happiness on the faces
 
 OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 of the engaged couple offset in a measure the tears 
 that filled the eyes of their elders. 
 
 "I hope they'll be happy," Ella said to Blanche, 
 when she imparted to her that the event had been 
 decided upon. "Say that you think they will! " she 
 added, pleadingly. " It will break my heart if Min- 
 nie makes a mistake." 
 
 Miss Brixton shook her head with a serious mien. 
 " I don't believe in it at all," she said. " I think 
 the time for that sort of thing has passed." 
 Mrs. Drew's brow was covered with wrinkles. 
 "Oh, what do you mean !" she cried. "Would 
 you have every pretty girl grow into an old maid ?" 
 
 "That," answered Blanche, slowly, "I would leave 
 to herself to decide." 
 
 The matron recognized the hated theory she so 
 much detested, and raised both her hands in pro- 
 test. 
 
 "We must never talk of such things," she said. 
 " I would rather see Minnie in her grave than No, 
 no ! She will marry, and I hope I hope so dearly 
 she will be happy ; as happy as Stephen and I have 
 been ! Mr. Bartlett is young and we must not judge 
 him too severely. The love of a good woman has 
 done marvels for a man before now." 
 
 Blanche took up a magazine she had laid down 
 and said, gently : 
 
 " Very well, Mrs. Drew." 
 
 Ella fidgeted in her chair, by no means content to 
 let the conversation end in this abrupt manner. 
 
 " You have heard, surely, of cases of that kind ?" 
 she asked. "Women have redeemed even the most 
 hardened husbands, many times." 
 
 "Yes," said Blanche, seeing that she was expected
 
 PROFESSIONAL SERVICES. 139 
 
 to answer. " That is true. It is also true, Mrs. 
 Drew, that many husbands have dragged the best of 
 wives through experiences that one shudders to con- 
 template. I know women, and so do you, who 
 would be a thousand times happier if they had 
 remained single. I tell you marriage has become a 
 lottery in which the great prizes are so few that they 
 attract the world's attention." 
 
 " You think the chance of getting a good husband 
 is worse now than formerly?" said Mrs. Drew, inter- 
 rogatively. 
 
 "It is growing worse every day," was the calm 
 reply. "And the reason is that woman, having 
 become more intelligent, suffers under the anoma- 
 /ous condition which marriage brings to her. In 
 spite of all the talk one hears, the wife is still the 
 property of her lord. She must submit to him or 
 make him submit to her. -In the latter case she will 
 have an apology for a husband, that will only earn 
 her the derision of the rest of her sex. There are 
 marriages where the participants are still happy, but 
 for every one of those, there are a hundred where all 
 that is best in both of them is trampled in the 
 mire." 
 
 Mrs. Drew uttered a helpless little sigh. 
 
 " How do you account for the change that is going 
 on ?" she asked. 
 
 " By the fact that marriage is in a transitory 
 period. Have you ever watched the evolution of a 
 city neighborhood ? First there is a street of good, 
 plain, ordinary houses. Then business creeps in 
 here and there, the better class of residents begin to 
 move away, a disreputable set takes their places, and 
 finally the whole thing is torn down. an4 great,
 
 140 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 modern blocks are erected. The institution of mar- 
 riage has reached the disreputable state. The next 
 era will bring us something better." 
 
 The elder lady clasped her hands together. 
 
 " If you think such things, Blanche, you ought 
 not to say them," she replied. " I would not have 
 Minnie hear you for anything." 
 
 " Have no fear," was the quiet reply. " Knowing 
 your prejudices, I have refrained from putting any 
 extra sense into the head of that young daughter of 
 yours. If she comes to me to be congratulated on 
 her engagement, I shall do the best I can to conceal 
 my apprehensions." 
 
 Tears filled the mother's eyes. 
 
 "You hope for the best, I am sure,'* she said, in a 
 low voice. 
 
 *' With all my heart," said Blanche, rising and 
 going over to kiss her. 
 
 The wedding took place with considerable form- 
 ality, as that was the wish of the bride, who had 
 many friends who desired to witness the launching 
 of her bark on what most young people believe a 
 lake where storms are unknown. Their mistake is 
 often as great as that of the navigator who applied 
 the term Pacific to one of the most tempestuous of 
 seas. The presents were " numerous and costly," 
 and included some very handsome ones from Miss 
 Brixton, who had a deep affection for the girl. The 
 * happy couple " departed on a tour of thirty days, 
 and at the end of that time went to live at the 
 residence of Mr. Bartlett, Sr. 
 
 But a few weeks passed before Mrs. Drew came 
 to Blanche with a long* face, to tell her that the
 
 PBOFESSIONAL SERVICES. 
 
 prospect of motherhood already afflicted her 
 daughter. 
 
 Miss Brixton stared fixedly at the lady as if she 
 could not comprehend her expressions. 
 
 " Minnie to be a mother !" she exclaimed. " How 
 happy she ought to be I" 
 
 "But she is not!" was the quick reply. "Just 
 think how young she is and how short a time she 
 has been married. I went over there this morning 
 and found her weeping as if her heart would 
 burst." 
 
 Miss Brixton's eyes opened wider than before. 
 
 " You had a child when you were no older than 
 she !" 
 
 "Yes," admitted Mrs. Drew; "but things are 
 different now. It is the modern custom to wait 
 awhile, to give the wife an opportunity to enjoy 
 life before dragging her down with the care of an 
 infant. Why, it will make an old woman of Minnie 
 at once. She can't go anywhere for the next two 
 or three years. I consider it a downright mis- 
 fortune." 
 
 " It is at least an incident to be expected," said 
 Blanche, thoughtfully. " I don't see that she has 
 a right to complain. This is what your dearly loved 
 institution of marriage brings, Mrs. Drew. Mothers 
 learn to dislike their offspring before they can see 
 their little faces. I tell you it is horrible 1 I would 
 go down to the Grand Central Station, and throw 
 myself under the first train, before I would give any 
 man the rights over me that the marriage covenant 
 preseribes !" 
 
 Mrs. Drew could only murmur : 
 
 44 Oh, Blanche!"
 
 14:2 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 " I would !" repeated the girl, throwing back her 
 head. " Why did Minnie marry, if the prospect ot 
 motherhood causes her such grief ? She could have 
 kept up her engagement and enjoyed the society 
 amusements of which she now so deeply bemoans the 
 loss. If she wanted to entertain herself for the next 
 three or four years with the pleasures offered by 
 fashion, why did she not leave herself free to partici- 
 pate in them ? I have no patience with such folly 
 No, Mrs. Drew, I must speak my mind. Common 
 sense seems to have deserted this part of the uni- 
 verse. You say Minnie is grieved because, being 
 married, she is to have a child. How does she know 
 she will not have twenty ? Every tear she sheds is a 
 testimony that I am right in denouncing the entire 
 edifice of matrimony as antiquated, unsuitable, 
 unfitted for the intelligent women of the last half of 
 the Nineteenth Century !" 
 
 Quite carried away with her feelings, Miss Brix- 
 ton swept from the room. But the next time she 
 met Mrs. Drew she went up to her impulsively and 
 put her arms around her neck. And within a few 
 days she called on Minnie and brought her some 
 lovely lace for the garments she had already begun 
 to fabricate. 
 
 Young Mr. Bartlett evidently considered that he 
 had now done about all that should be expected of 
 him. For his present income he intended to rely on 
 the $10,000 that his wife possessed. Minnie believed 
 that she only did the right thing when she put the 
 whole of her small fortune into his hands, and 
 allowed him to invest it in a very neat business of 
 which he knew nothing except that it would not 
 soil his clothes ; and it took him an incredibly short
 
 PKOFKSSIONA.L SERVICES. 14:3 
 
 time to lose it all, with the help of a few " flyers,'* 
 in the stock market. He had, it appeared, gone a 
 little beyond the bounds of honesty in these trans- 
 actions and used other people's names without con- 
 sulting them. And the result was that about a 
 month before his wife expected to add to his joys 
 and cares he executed a sudden flight for parts 
 unknown, and did not take the formality of leaving 
 his address with anyone. 
 
 While no careful arithmetician could make out 
 that the desertion of Mr. Bartlett was of any partic- 
 ular loss to Minnie her money ?iavmg already gone 
 beyond repair she had the bad taste to get herself 
 into a violent illness over it, bringing on distressing 
 complications. As the Bartlett family were not very 
 cordial to her now, she accepted the hospitality of 
 her mother and Miss Brixton, and went to the 
 latter's home. 
 
 Then it was that Blanche laid aside for the nonce 
 her theories and her r.evilings at the world in general 
 and men in especial. No sister could have given 
 more affectionate care than she gave to the deserted 
 wife. She comforted her by repeated assurances 
 that "Horace" would certainly return. She in- 
 serted in a Herald " Personal " an announcement 
 to the effect that if H. B. would communicate with 
 Mr. Sparrow, attorney-at-law, Park Place, he would 
 hear of something to his advantage. She also 
 visited the indignant creditors of young Bartlett and 
 secured a writing that would relieve him from all 
 danger of prosecution, at the expense to her pocket 
 of a good deal of money. 
 
 With the new hope that these things would give 
 to Minnie, Blanche counted on bringing her through
 
 144 <WT OP WEDLOCK. 
 
 all right. Dr. Robertson said they ought to have 
 the best effect. He agreed with Blanche that Bart- 
 lett would be better in a jail than by the side of the 
 young woman he had proved so ill fitted to care for. 
 They only thought, however, of what was best for 
 the wife. If they could get him there before the 
 trial hour they wanted to do it. But Bartlett, scared 
 terribly by what he had done, was in the far West, 
 hiding in a ranche where he officiated as a cow- 
 puncher, to the great loss of whiteness of his pretty 
 hands and knew nothing of the kindly efforts made 
 in his behalf. 
 
 All the kindness that was showered upon the 
 young wife, all the skill of the most competent 
 physician, failed to keep her from relapsing into 
 such a state that her life was for some days in 
 mortal peril. Affected by its mother's condition, 
 no doubt, the child breathed but a few hours. It 
 was just as well, Mrs. Drew said, in a way that 
 made Blanche shudder. Minnie would be better off 
 without it, the way matters had gone. 
 
 Had she not felt that the cup of this woman was 
 already full, Blanche would have expressed her senti- 
 ments on this observation in a decidedly sharp 
 fashion. 
 
 Miss Brixton had observed the weak condition of 
 the infant from the first and had refused to believe, 
 with Dr. Robertson, that life could not be kept in it. 
 She sent, with his consent, for two other eminent 
 physicians and begged them, if there was any virtue 
 in medicine, to save the child. When they added 
 their opinion to his, she fell on her Knees by the 
 nurse who held the baby w* her lao and went scald- 
 ing tears.
 
 fROFESSIONAL SERVICES. 145 
 
 So little, SO sweet, so innocent ! Why should it 
 touch this earthly shore so brief a time if it were not 
 to be permitted to remain ! 
 
 With its last breath Blanche grew so ill that the 
 attention of the doctors had to be turned to her. 
 This girl, who had borne the loss of a father with an 
 equanimity that astounded us all, mourned for 
 another's child with all the fervor of an own mother. 
 Minnie was able to be about before her friend, for 
 Blanche lay more than a month on her sick bed. 
 
 "Ah! The little thing ! The pretty little thing !" 
 she moaned, day and night, during the first week. 
 
 When she recovered, her spirits were so low that 
 Dr. Robertson approved of her suggestion to take a 
 foreign journey. Nothing had been heard of Mr. 
 Bartlett, and Minnie was taking steps to sue for a 
 divorce. The Drews, including their daughter, were 
 to stay at the Brixton residence, and Blanche was to 
 travel with a hired companion. 
 
 Miss Brixton was gone nearly two years, during 
 which time she saw a great deal that was interesting 
 and instructive. And one day Dr. Robertson 
 received a letter to this effect : 
 
 ' I expect to reach New York, on the ' Germanic* about 
 Aug. nth. I shall require your professional services in the 
 neighborhood of Sept. 2oth. Yours very truly, 
 
 BLANCHE BRIXTON." 
 
 The physician read this letter over and over again, 
 
 rubbing his spectacles and his eyes alternately. 
 44 She can't mean what nonsense f* he exclaimed, a
 
 146 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 hundred tfmes. "She wouldn't be such a fool, with 
 her fortune and everything in the world to look 
 forward to 1 But, I don't know. Her father was a 
 mule, and she takes after him. ' Professional ' fiddle- 
 Sticks ! Confound her, she's given me a regular 
 *tart I" 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "TOO LOVELY FOR ANYTHING.** 
 
 When Mrs. Drew received word that Miss Brix- 
 tofl was coming home, coupled with an announce- 
 ment much plainer than the one which had been 
 sent to the physician, she was thrown into a state of 
 consternation. 
 
 ** It is simply dreadful !" she said, to her husband, 
 when she had read him the letter. " I don't know 
 how we can stay here. Her conduct will com- 
 promise all of us. Even if you and I could endure 
 it, think of its effect on a young woman like Minnie. 
 Her mind is still in a formative condition, and who 
 can say what dangers might not come from such 
 an example ?" 
 
 Stephen assented, as he always did, though he 
 may have entertained doubts whether a woman who
 
 "TOO LOVELY FOB ANYTHING." 147 
 
 had been a wife and mother, and was now a di- 
 vorced widow, should be considered in the light of 
 a novice. 
 
 Ella was in a serious quandary. She loved 
 Blanche dearly, both for her own sake and for that of 
 her father. She could not forget the kindness 
 shown to Minnie when deserted by her natural pro- 
 tector. Miss Brixton had taken the financial 
 troubles of Mrs. Bartlett upon herself, and had in- 
 structed her agents to honor all calls she made upon 
 them. Under this state of things it seemed pecu- 
 liarly ungrateful to desert Blanche when she was in 
 most need of her services. 
 
 '* I don't see how I can stay here," said Mrs. Drew 
 to her husband, " and I don't see how I can leave. 
 She has no other female friend nearly as close as I 
 have been. She writes me as if there would be no 
 question about it. How can I refuse to comply 
 with her wishes ?" 
 
 Stephen answered that he did not see how she 
 could. 
 
 "But won't it look as if I endorsed her?" queried 
 his wife. *' Won't people get the idea that we are 
 all filled with these immoral ideas? A woman has 
 to be so careful of her reputation." 
 
 '* That is true," said Stephen, whose sympathies 
 were largely on the side of Miss Brixton, for whom 
 he entertained a warm admiration. " But the mis- 
 chief is done, and you can't help it. Show yourself 
 a good friend to her and it may have an effect on 
 her future." 
 
 Mrs. Drew uttered an exclamation. 
 
 " Her future, Stephen ! She will have no future. 
 The world never forgives an affair of that kind,
 
 148 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 And she won't even ask to be forgiven. She will 
 come home as proud as if she had done something 
 to her credit. She has warmed these theories in her 
 breast ever since she was a child. Oh, it is enough 
 to drive me crazy !'* 
 
 Stephen put on the proper look of sympathetic 
 interest, for when his wife talked in this way he 
 believed something serious was the matter. 
 
 *' And Minnie that is the worst of it, after all," pur- 
 sued Ella. " How can I explain it to her ? What can 
 I say to defend Blanche ? The dear girl has always 
 had such a high opinion of her, and Blanche has 
 done her a thousand kindnesses that she cannot for- 
 get. If you and I stay here Minnie will have to go 
 somewhere. One can't be too careful when the 
 eternal happiness of a daughter is at stake." 
 
 Accordingly, Mistress Minnie was packed off to 
 Markham, where she had many friends, and the 
 other Drews, with Dr. Robertson and myself as aux- 
 iliaries, prepared to receive the coming guest, or 
 rather the real owner of the premises. It occurs to 
 me now that our attitude was something like that 
 assumed by a regiment anticipating a cavalry charge, 
 or a ship's crew ordered to repel boarders. We 
 were a gloomy set of people, without doubt, and 
 walked about the house on tiptoe as if afraid to 
 make the slightest noise. 
 
 " I should think there was a funeral going on 
 here," said the physician, one day. 
 
 * It's worse than that," replied Mrs. Drew, with a 
 sigh. *' There are some things more terrible than 
 death, doctor." 
 
 Dr. Robertson wore a look of profundity as be 
 beard her.
 
 "TOO LOVELY FOE ANYTHING." 149 
 
 "I think you put it a little strong," hs said, " but 
 I understand the way you view it. While Society is 
 made up the way it is now, death is at least one of 
 the most respectable things a person can have 
 happen to him. I hope, however, that we shall not 
 meet Blanche with quite so funereal an aspect as we 
 have been wearing to each other. She is like other 
 women, I suppose, and wants to see a little sunshine 
 when she steps foot after so long a time on the soil 
 of her native country." 
 
 An attempt at greater cheerfulness was then made 
 by us all, but on the whole it was a dismal failure. 
 
 "Who is going to the steamer to meet her?" I 
 asked suddenly, thinking that this matter was one 
 that required settling. 
 
 Mr. Drew mildly offered to go, if that was agree- 
 able, but his wife put in a very decided objection. 
 
 "Stephen! I could not think of letting you do 
 anything of the kind." 
 
 Dr. Robertson finally volunteered, and this met 
 the approval of all parties. He greeted his patient 
 on the deck of the boat, at the wharf, and she 
 grasped his hand with a pressure that showed the 
 most perfect health. Blanche was looking older 
 than when she went away, but not more than the 
 two extra years would warrant. Her cheeks wer 
 red with the salt breeze and her eyes were as bright 
 as diamonds. 
 
 " My dear, dear doctor !" she exclaimed, regard- 
 less of the listening ears that were about them. 
 14 You don't know how glad I am to see you and dear 
 America again. You haven't changed a particle, not 
 a white hair more or less. It was so sweet of you to 
 come to meet me. My baggage is all ready to be
 
 150 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 inspected, and Mathilde here has everything in her 
 charge. Within half an hour we shall be ready to 
 drive to the house." 
 
 When they were being taken through the familiar 
 streets toward her home, Miss Brixton broke out 
 into many expressions of rapture. 
 
 "Europe is nice," she said, " but there's nothing, 
 after all, like one's 'ain countree.' Tell me all the 
 news. How is Ella, and dear old Steve, and poor 
 little Minnie? Ah, I have pitied that child so often, 
 with all her troubles, her young life wrecked by her 
 idiotic marriage ! She's got the divorce, hasn't she? 
 Well, that's one comfort ; but a divorce is like 
 getting cured of the small pox the marks remain. 
 I am so anxious to see her. I suppose they are all 
 at the house, prepared to give me a royal welcome !" 
 
 Dr. Robertson told me he never was so upset in 
 hfs life as he was at the manner of Miss Brixton on 
 this occasion. Her spirits were at their very high- 
 est. She had never looked so truly lovely. And 
 she seemed to expect that everyone would be as 
 delighted as she. He had to tell her that Mrs. Bart- 
 lett was out of town, but he adroitly concealed the 
 reason of her departure. 
 
 ** Run in to-morrow, if you can," Blanche said to 
 him, as they neared her home. " I have a great deal 
 to tell you. To-day I suppose Ella will claim all of 
 my time. I am impatient to see the dear woman." 
 
 I think we had some sort of an idea of standing in 
 a row in the front hall and reciting in chorus an ode 
 of welcome, but luckily we thought better of it. 
 The final arrangement was that Mrs. Drew would 
 meet Miss Brixton, and that Stephen and I would 
 drop in a little later, when the strangeness of the sit-
 
 "TOO LOVELY FOR ANYTHING." 151 
 
 nation had in a measure worn off. But Dr. Robert 
 son, after bringing his charge and her maid into the 
 house, left them with Ella and came out to advise us 
 to keep out of the way for the present. He intimated 
 that it would take more than ten minutes for the 
 women to get upon a common footing, and that they 
 had best be given all the time they wanted. 
 
 The meeting between the old friends was effus- 
 ively joyful on the part of one and reservedly digni- 
 fied on the part of the other. Miss Brixton was so 
 occupied, however, in inspecting the premises and 
 running her eyes over the furniture and walls, that 
 at first she noticed nothing to arouse her suspicion. 
 She was shown to her rooms, neat as a pin, as every- 
 thing must be that had passed under the eye of the 
 model housekeeper. Mathilde was disposed of as 
 quickly as possible ; and the moment she found her* 
 self really alone with Mrs. Drew, Blanche opened her 
 arms to their fullest capacity, and stretched herself as 
 if she would take all America in her embrace at once. 
 
 " Why don't you congratulate me !" she cried, rap- 
 turously. 
 
 The two women must have made an interesting 
 contrast. The younger all radiance, almost too 
 happy to breathe, the other with her cheeks reddened 
 from a far different cause. 
 
 "Please!" murmured Mrs. Drew, suppltcatingly. 
 "Please, Blanche! We must not talk about it. We 
 never could agree never ! If we are not to quarrel, 
 we must avoid that subject." 
 
 Miss Brixton laughed patronizingly. 
 
 * Very well,'* she said. " It shall be as you say. 
 But tell me all about your family. They arc both 
 Well, of course. Mr. Drew and Minnie ?"
 
 152 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 The sound of her daughter's name, spoken so 
 familiarly by those lips, struck unpleasantly upon 
 the ears of the mother. 
 
 "They are quite well," she said. "But don't 
 think me unreasonable, Blanche let us not speak of 
 them, either. It it really gives me pain." 
 
 The face of Miss Brixton showed the most intense 
 sympathy. 
 
 ** You have had some trouble, poor darling !" she 
 murmured. 
 
 " No, no ! There has been no trouble none at 
 all. It is not that ; oh, I can't explain ! We talked 
 about it, Stephen and I a long time. And we 
 agreed that / ought to stay here, but** 
 
 Miss Brixton stared at the speaker, 
 
 ** You were in doubt ?" she asked. 
 
 "At first. I there is Minnie to think of, you 
 know" 
 
 There was a long pause and a sigh from Blanche. 
 
 ** You thought, perhaps," she said, " that your stay 
 here might injure her. I am very sorry. I will not 
 keep you no, not for the world. Good-bye, and 
 is it forever ?" 
 
 The lady burst into tears. 
 
 " Blanche, don't send me away,* 1 she sobbed. "I 
 couldn't forgive myself if I went now. Don't tell 
 me to go !** 
 
 Miss Brixton quickly withdrew her proposition, 
 and the conversation turned upon other matters. 
 Enough had been said to show Blanche the situation 
 of affairs. She carefully avoided, after that, trench- 
 ing upon disagreeable ground, in her talks with 
 Mrs. Drew. I met her several times at dinner and 
 no one would have suspected from what was said
 
 "TOO LOVELY FOB ANYTHING." 153 
 
 that a very large skeleton lay hid and grinning in 
 the closet behind the door. 
 
 Dr. Robertson had to go through a somewhat 
 similar experience before he and his patient had 
 been in the same city for a week. With his blunt 
 manner he precipitated himself into the middle of 
 the subject with one of his first questions. 
 
 "Why, in the name of Goodness," he demanded, 
 "didn't you stay abroad a few months longer? 
 Then you could have pretended that your child was 
 an adopted one, and nobody could have disputed 
 you, whatever they might have thought." 
 
 " My dear doctor," replied Blanche, with her most 
 winning smile, "how persistently you misapprehend 
 my motives. I have nothing to conceal. No wife 
 since the creation was ever happier to become a 
 mother. I know I am doing an unusual thing, but 
 from my own standpoint I am right, all the Grundys 
 to the contrary notwithstanding." 
 
 The physician fumed silently as he listened. 
 
 a All right !" he snapped. " Let that go. There 
 are several things that I wonder if you have thought 
 of. I suppose you know your child will not be 
 entitled to receive a penny of your property if you 
 die And women do die under such circumstances,** 
 he added, with a strong touch of acerbity. 
 
 " But / am not going to !" Blanche responded, 
 brightly. " I assure you of that to begin with. 
 There is no law to prevent my making a will and 
 leaving my property to whom I please, is there ?" 
 
 *' No, but there ought to be," growled the phy- 
 sician, half audibly. " I want to ask you a question,** 
 he added, raising his voice. " Who is your child's
 
 154 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Miss Brixton's eyes fell before those of her i 
 rogator. For an instant she seemed to lose her self- 
 possession. But she did not speak. 
 
 " I hardly expected you would tell me," said the 
 doctor, composedly. "I asked out of no mere 
 curiosity. I only thought you might like, in case of 
 accident, to have the infant know its father's 
 name." 
 
 Not a syllable came from the girl's lips, which 
 were now tightly compressed together. Tears filled 
 her eyes. 
 
 "You must admit," continued the physician, "that 
 there is a possibility that you will not arise from 
 the illness you are about to undergo. In your case 
 the chances are a hundred to one in your favoi, bu* 
 no one can predict these results with certainty." 
 
 He waited for her reply, but she shook het 
 head. 
 
 " I have nothing to tell you," she said. 
 
 He bowed. 
 
 " Let me suggest, then, that you place an envelope 
 containing the facts in the hands of some person, to 
 be divulged in case in case it should be necessary." 
 
 Blanche looked at her companion earnestly. 
 
 " My child could have no use for that informa- 
 tion," she replied. " Perhaps I ought to say that the 
 father is dead." 
 
 Used as he was to everything, the old physician 
 plainly showed the shock he felt upon hearing this 
 statement. 
 
 " But the child will want a name," he remarked, 
 desperately. 
 
 " If it is a boy I wish it called Wallace ; if a girl, 
 Miriam."
 
 "TOO LOVELY FOR ANYTHING. 1 * 155 
 
 ** And the surname " 
 
 *' Will be mine, of course." 
 
 He knew he might as well try to change the direc- 
 tion of the wind as to turn her from her purpose, and 
 he abruptly ended the conversation. The next day the 
 lawyer who attended to the Brixton business was 
 sent for and given instructions about the drawing of 
 a will, which was duly signed soon after. 
 
 Toward the last Blanche lost a little of her cour- 
 age, and began to predict that she would not survive 
 her trial. 
 
 " I am not afraid of death," she said to Mrs. Drew. 
 "I know you do not think me such a coward. But 
 all my soul is centred on my baby. No one can 
 care for a child like its mother. Ii will be so little 
 and helpless ! It will want so many things ! When 
 it cries no one else will understand. Oh, at least I 
 want to live long enough to fondle its limbs, to look 
 for one instant at its tiny face !'* 
 
 Miss Brixton's health had been superb for years, 
 and it stood her in good stead now. 
 
 "Blanche! Wouldn't you like to look at Wal- 
 lace ?" asked Mrs. Drew's voice, and the invalid heard 
 it with a feeble cry of joy. 
 
 The boy's face was red, his eyes of a doubtful 
 shade, and his hair too scant to be given a color 
 but the mother gazed at him in rapt admiration. 
 
 "Isn't he too lovely for anything !" she exclaimed, 
 and then fell into a calm and peaceful slumber.
 
 156 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 AN AMATEUR DETECTIVE. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that an event like this 
 could happen in an American city without attracting 
 attention. The press began to contain veiled refer- 
 ences to it. Ministers referred to it in their sermons 
 as an evidence of what might be expected when the 
 dictates of the carnal mind were followed instead of 
 the teachings of inspiration. A few of the more 
 "advanced " periodicals dared to compliment the 
 young mother for her courage in facing the world 
 to defend her convictions. But the great majority 
 of people found Blanche guilty of an unpardonable 
 offense, and wiped her off their books without 
 ceremony. 
 
 An unexpected annoyance was early noted, for 
 Miss Brixton cared not the snap of her finger about 
 what the clergymen and newspapers did. It was 
 the burdening of her mail with letters from men, of 
 individuals who apparently called themselves so, 
 approving her course and insinuating that their 
 acquaintance would be to her personal advantage. 
 Strong-minded as Blanche was, she recoiled so at 
 these correspondents that she turned all her mail 
 over to Dr. Robertson, begging him to give her only 
 such of it as he thought she would like to receive. 
 The beast in some men is so near the surface that it 
 only requires the least encouragement to bring it into 
 sight. I looked over those letters with the physician,
 
 AN AMATEUR DETECTIVE. 157 
 
 learned that names famous enough to be known 
 the country over had been signed to suggestions at 
 which I cannot even hint. 
 
 Strange as had been the conduct of George Brix- 
 ton's daughter, she always seemed to those of us who 
 knew her best the very incarnation of high-minded- 
 ness and modesty. It would have required a 
 temerity not often found to say anything in her 
 presence that savored of indelicacy. The creatures 
 who wrote her the letters to which I have alluded 
 were to be excused, in a measure, by the fact that 
 they had not the slightest idea of the personality of 
 that charming girl. They knew nothing more than 
 that she was a mother and unmarried ; which, in 
 itself, let us admit in all fairness, was not of a pre- 
 possessing nature. Had they seen her in the 
 wondrous beauty of her young motherhood they 
 must have shrunk abashed from their own base 
 thoughts. 
 
 It can hardly be said that Miss Brixton defied the 
 world ; she rather ignored it. She did not flaunt 
 her conduct in its face, but neither did she hide one 
 atom of it from all who chose to gaze. Her delight 
 in her little one was complete. Although she had a 
 nurse especially for it, she did most of the necessary 
 offices herself. A suggestion of a bottle was indig- 
 nantly rejected. Blanche wanted everybody to 
 understand that she was not one of those neglectful 
 mothers who steal for fashion or pleasure the months 
 that belong to their offspring. She rode out every 
 afternoon with the child, when the weather was fair, 
 not seeking to attract attention, and yet going boldly 
 to any point she liked, regardless of the crowd. 
 
 It was not long before she got used to hearing the
 
 158 OUT OF WEDLOC*. 
 
 whispered, " That is she !" and sometimes the sup 
 pressed giggle of a silly woman who imagined she 
 had perpetrated a witticism upon the subject. More 
 than this, she encountered frowning eyes, those of 
 matrons who said in audible voices, " I should think 
 she would have shame enough to hide her head." 
 Blanche could not reply to such people without 
 lowering herself by a wordy combat, and she chose 
 the easier way of trying to live down their resent- 
 ment. Time helped a great deal in this, but as long 
 as she remained in New York she never quite 
 escaped being a mark for the curiously inclined. 
 
 " I get almost exasperated sometimes when I hear 
 these things," she said to us at table one evening. 
 " But when I look at Wallace he pays me for 
 tverything." 
 
 I say " us," but at the time the Drews were away 
 on a visit to Minnie, and only Dr. Robertson, Mrs. 
 Reynolds and myself were present. 
 
 The doctor had quit arguing. He had never 
 given up a single inch of his ground, but for the 
 sake of peace he kept silence when he could. The 
 attitude that I assumed was more acceptable to her, 
 I think, for I would not contest a single point. It 
 was none of my business to instruct or advise her. 
 It was really to me that she confided her closest 
 thoughts. 
 
 "I've another lot of newspaper clippings for you 
 to-day," she would remark, when I called. " Things 
 are getting worse and worse for the poor married 
 people. Here are two cases of husbands beating 
 their wives, one of them fatally. A woman is under 
 arrest for poisoning her husband in order to marry 
 her lover. An unfortunate young girl is in jail, under
 
 AN AMATEUR DETECTIVE. 159 
 
 the charge of murdering her infant, which her lord 
 deserted. Then here are the records of the divorce 
 courts in eleven States inconstancy, desertion, cruel- 
 ty, drunkenness. Marriage is a great institution, 
 Mr. Medford ! I don't wonder people insist on call' 
 ing it divine /" 
 
 I knew that she patronized a clipping agency 
 Romeike's and I took the pile of slips she gave me, 
 looking with interest at the record attached to each, 
 showing the journal from which it was taken, and 
 the date on which it was published. 
 
 " Here is one," she said, " of a more personal 
 nature. It hazards a guess as to the paternity of 
 my little Wallace, with as much sangfroid as if it was 
 flny business of the editor or his readers. There 
 are women who would go down to his office with a 
 horsewhip, but that would only make him more 
 notorious, which would probably please him too well. 
 I do not understand why the question of father- 
 hood is of the slightest importance to any human 
 being. There is a country in Asia, where all the chil- 
 dren take the name of their mothers, and where it is 
 considered the height of impoliteness to hint at their 
 paternal ancestry. Under the European rule the 
 mother has hardly been worth discussing at all. 
 Until recently she had very few legal rights in her 
 own offspring, though she contributes ninety-nine per 
 cent, to its life. If I had a husband, it would be 
 within the power of a judge in this State to take 
 my child and consign it perpetually to his care. 
 They might as well claim the right to cut out my 
 heart !" 
 
 As she was speaking, the nurse brought Master 
 Wallace into the room. No truthful man could say
 
 160 OUT OP WEDLOCK. 
 
 "no" when asked by the happy young mother if he 
 had ever seen a prettier child. He was darker than 
 his mamma, though she was a brunette. His hair 
 had now grown abundantly and was inclined to curl. 
 His eyes were nearly black, like hers. 
 
 " Come to your mother," she said, holding out her 
 arms. 
 
 The boy was quick to hear the maternal voice and 
 sprange joyfully into her embrace. When he had 
 nestled in her lap they made the prettiest picture I 
 ever saw, either on or off canvas. Blanche had 
 wholly recovered her health, and the roses played 
 bewitchingly with her dimples as she pressed the 
 infant to her full, round bosom. 
 
 " Wallace," she said, with mock gravity, holding 
 him away from her, " take your thumb out of your 
 mouth and look at this gentleman. Do you realize 
 that he has it in his power to make you a pauper, 
 by running away with all your money to Canada, or 
 Buenos Ayres or some of those terrible places ? 
 How would it suit you to have your poor mamma 
 drag you about the street in a hand-cart, while she 
 sold oranges or needles and thread to sympathetic 
 passers ?" 
 
 I could not help thinking of the anomaly presented 
 before my eyes, for such it always was, thanks, per- 
 haps, to my imperfect education ; at least, that is 
 what Miss Brixton would have called it. Why did 
 not something be it ever so little tell of this girl's 
 lowered standard, of her depraved taste ? There 
 was absolutely nothing. Her countenance was as 
 pure as it was fair. She was transfigured by the 
 motherhood that can make even a plain face beauti- 
 ful. It was evident that she was as unconscious of
 
 AN AMATEUR DETECTIVE. 161 
 
 wrong as Adam and Eve when they strayed in that 
 first twilight through the leafy groves of Eden. If, 
 like them, she was naked, like them she was not 
 ashamed ! 
 
 "The story of this child would be an entertaining 
 one," I suggested. " You might let me write it out. 
 Then, when I had run away with your fortune, you 
 could make more money by selling it than with your 
 pins and needles." 
 
 She reddened, not guiltily, but from the very 
 quality of her full veins. 
 
 " I did not know you were a writer of fiction," 
 she answered. 
 
 " Neither am I ; but there must be enough in the 
 history of this pretty boy without drawing on one's 
 inventive powers, to make a most fascinating story." 
 
 She raised the child again from her lap and pressed 
 her lips to his check. 
 
 "Tell me one thing," she said, suddenly, looking 
 me full in the face. " Do you hold as bad an opin- 
 ion of me as the rest of them ? Do you really con- 
 sider me lacking in what shall I call it respect- 
 ability ?" 
 
 It was my own face that reddened now. 
 
 " I was afraid of it," she said, with an air of con* 
 viction, and acting as if not the least offended. 
 "This is the test : If you had a sister you wouldn't 
 wish her to associate with me. There is Mrs. Drew,, 
 the most intimate friend I ever had among women, 
 frightened to death lest her divorced daughter should 
 meet a girl who has evaded the stiff rules that have 
 crushed her. I have not one friend to-day that 
 deserves to be called such neither woman nor man. 
 Of course you treat me politely, and Dr. Robertson
 
 162 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 comes to dinner occasionally ; but neither of you 
 would care to walk down the avenue with me, I'm 
 very certain. It is not surprising. The world is 
 tied together by such little threads that people fear 
 to break a single one of them or rather, to admit 
 having done so." 
 
 " You \vere gone abroad about two years," I 
 remarked, reminiscently. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Where did you spend most of your time ?" 
 
 " Excuse me," she replied, with a smile. " I never 
 talk about that journey." 
 
 "I have no desire to pry into your secrets," I 
 answered. " But I am thinking of crossing the 
 ocean soon myself, and I felt an interest in discuss- 
 ing the matter with one who had already been 
 there." 
 
 She looked at me with a trace of suspicion, which 
 vanished instantly. - 
 
 "A good guide-book is worth more to you than 
 all I could say," she laughed. " I did not know you 
 were going, though. How long do you intend to 
 remain ?" 
 
 I replied that that would depend on circum- 
 stances. I felt the need of a change, after having 
 devoted myself so closely to business. 
 
 " Mr. Sparrow will attend to your interests," I 
 added, " with frequent consultations with me 
 through the mail, of course." 
 
 She allowed me to kiss the baby, remarking that 
 I was one of a very small circle who was permitted 
 that wonderful privilege, and so I took my leave. 
 
 That evening, after retiring to my bed, the 
 thought came over me, as it had often done before,
 
 AN AMATEUR DETE 163 
 
 thc i ought to make an effort to icarn sometmng 
 about the origin of Master Wallace Brixton. In the 
 process of time it was very possible I would be in 
 the position of a trustee for him, as I now was for 
 his mother. There are rights credited even t the 
 child that is unborn, and certainly to those too 
 young and helpless to speak for themselves. 
 
 Miss Brixton would not talk on this important 
 theme. Every year that passed would make it 
 harder to ascertain the truth. The position that I 
 occupied relieved me from the charge of pruriency. 
 But, how could I hope to uncover a mystery so 
 carefully hidden from every eye ? 
 
 If I could learn the route Miss Brixton ha(J 
 travelled, it would give me a clew to begin upon. 
 Great things have been accomplished from smab 
 suggestions. A bit of colored netting such as pool 
 table pockets are made of led to the fixing of a 
 murder upon a man who collected chips from a 
 factory. By a scratch on a safe door Gaboriau's 
 hero traces his guilty heroine. It would amuse me, 
 if nothing else, to assume the rdle of an amateur 
 detective, and if, after all, I discovered nothing, no 
 harm would be done. 
 
 There was but one person in whom I could safely 
 confide my plan Mr. Sparrow, my fellow trustee ; 
 but I believe a secret never yet was kept better by 
 two persons than one, and I said nothing, even to 
 him. The only interview I had was with Dr. 
 Robertson, and that was conducted in such a way 
 that the good man did not suspect my purpose. He 
 was a most delightful old gentleman, who would 
 have made an excellent subject for a story, all by 
 himself.
 
 164 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 The talk that I had with Robertson occurred the 
 next day after my visit to Miss Brixton, last referred 
 to. He was always pleased to rehearse the story as 
 he knew it, and I made him tell it to me again, from 
 the beginning. He lay back in his office chair and 
 talked of "George" and "Emma" as if they had 
 been his children. But when he came to the latest 
 development of the family's peculiarity he grew 
 animated and took on a high color. 
 
 "Was there ever anything like it !" he exclaimed. 
 " Here is a young woman of ordinary sense in every- 
 thing else, with good looks, with a fortune equipped, 
 in short, to take any place she pleased in society. And 
 she throws it all away every chance to be anything or 
 anybody on this ridiculous fad ! I lost all patience 
 with her long ago. There'll be trouble later, when 
 the boy grows up. He'll tell her his opinion when 
 he finds the inconvenience of being a " 
 
 The doctor growled as he omitted the disagree- 
 able word. 
 
 " Of course you believe his father is dead ?" I said. 
 
 "Yes. Blanche has faults enough, but she can't 
 tell an untruth. When she doesn't wish to answer 
 she simply closes her lips, and no man is strong 
 enough to compel her to open them." 
 
 I asked him incidentally if she had said much of 
 her journey in the letters she wrote him from abroad. 
 
 " Nothing at all, hardly," he replied. "I did not 
 have above ten letters altogether. They are all 
 here," and he exhibited a package encased in a rub- 
 ber band, taking it from a drawer in his desk. " You 
 may look them over and welcome." 
 
 He tossed them to me, and as I began to open 
 a patient's call took the physician out of the
 
 AIT AMATEUR DETECTIVE. 365 
 
 room. It was very opportune, for I wanted to copy 
 the dates without attracting his attention. I took up 
 a pencil and pad and began writing nervously : 
 
 " Liverpool, May 26 ; London, June 30 ; Paris, 
 Sept. 2." This was the way they ran. " Venice, 
 Jan. 10 ; Florence, May 12 ; Zurich, Aug. 4." A 
 long interval, and then Algiers, Constantino, and 
 afterwards points in Spain, and the final letter 
 announcing that she was coming home. 
 
 This was the path she had travelled. It was 
 something to go by, and it would certainly have 
 interested a man like Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Not 
 only the city and date were given, but usually the 
 hotel. It was the letter dated at Algiers, however, 
 that struck me particularly. 
 
 "Well, you didn't find much there," said Dr. 
 Robertson, when he returned. " She is a deep girl, 
 and knew enough to cover her tracks well. It is a 
 shame ! In a world made up like ours, a boy is 
 entitled to know who his father is. Not to have 
 the least information about it leaves him in a devii 
 of a state. He can't tell whether he is the offspring 
 of a gentleman or a robber. One of these days 
 Blanche will wake up to the mischief she's done." 
 
 I agreed with him in a mild way, for it was my 
 policy not to take strong ground with anyone who 
 assumed to criticize my ward too severely. 
 
 Five weeks later I alighted from a Messageries 
 Maratimes steamer at Algiers, and registered at the 
 beautifully situated Hotel de 1'Oasis.
 
 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IN AND ABOUT ALGIERS. 
 
 The city of Algiers is certainly one of the loneliest 
 places on the habitable globe. As seen from the 
 Mediterranean it has few rivals in point of artificial 
 attractions. It is a veritable city set on a hill, that 
 cannot be hid. Both the old town, or Arab quarter, 
 and the new, or French city, are visible from the sea. 
 The prevailing, almost the only exterior, of the 
 buildings is of pure white. High above the water 
 front a grand arcaded street is built, on which rows 
 of stately buildings face the mother country, looking 
 exactly as if they had been taken from the Rue de 
 Rivoli and transplanted to these tropical shores. 
 Long and easily ascended ways allow the wagon or 
 foot passenger to reach this street from the landing 
 quay, the whole affair being a masterpiece of 
 architecture. 
 
 For a short distance to the rear of the hotels the 
 ground is nearly level, and in this section most of 
 the shops, the theatres and some most engaging 
 small parks are found. Beyond these the hill rises 
 gradually, giving to the Moorish-like edifices the 
 appearance of being built in tiers, and ensuring 
 magnificent views of each. The best of carriage 
 roads, constructed by French engineers, who have 
 no rivals in that line, wind gracefully to the summit 
 of this elevation, which is called Mustapha Superieur. 
 
 The climate of Algiers has few equals, and during
 
 IN AXD ABOUT ALGIERS. 167 
 
 a great part of the year it can have no superior. 
 Although the vegetation indigenous to the tropics 
 flourishes in December and January, there is seldom 
 a day when the weather is uncomfortably warm. 
 On the hottest in thirteen successive years the ther- 
 mometer registered 77 deg. Fahrenheit, and on the 
 coldest 48 deg. during those months. This is several 
 degrees warmer than Nice or most of the Riviera. 
 I found a tonic in the air that acted like medicine to 
 my tired nerves and made me feel as if I could spend 
 the entire winter there without wishing to go further. 
 
 The street scenes are most inspiring to one who 
 sees, for the first time, as I then did, that mixture of 
 races which is found so commonly in the towns of 
 the East. At every step is met the veiled wife of 
 the Mahommedan, with her Turkish trousers, her 
 face hid in an impenetrability that the foreigner 
 seldom succeeds in passing ; her lord, the Othello- 
 like Arab, with his turbaned head, his white burnous, 
 and an air that stamps him as the most dignified 
 and statuesque of men ; the negro, blacker than any 
 ace of spades, as thoroughly Mahommedan in relig- 
 ion as the sons of Ishmael ; the Kabyle, of a stock 
 somewhat similar to the Moors and yet of a race 
 apart, his women having their faces uncovered ; and 
 besides these, representatives of almost every Europ- 
 ean people, attracted either by business or pleasure 
 to this princess of winter resorts. 
 
 A writer who is evidently thoroughly familiar 
 with the old or Arab quarter of Algiers describes it 
 so well that I feel justified in quoting a few lines : 
 " The streets," he says, "seem a curious rendezvous 
 for Old Testament patriarchs and the actors in the 
 ' Arabian Nights.' The idlers on the floor of the
 
 168 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Moorish caf/ t over their coffee and draughts, group 
 themselves like a picture of Joseph's brethren. It 
 might be Abraham or Isaac who is driving the flock 
 of brown goats or asses which pusli you off the 
 pavement. You turn up some steep alley with the 
 houses meeting overhead, and some lovely old brass- 
 worked door opens, and Morgiana flits out, veiled 
 in white, with her copper water-jar on her shoulder, 
 giving you a momentary glimpse of cool court-yards 
 with slender pillars and bright tiles. Across the 
 sunlit opening at the top of the alley passes a slim, 
 handsome boy, all in white except for a long mantle 
 of grass-green. Then you meet a Jewess in a black 
 skull-cap and a dandy in slashed blue satin over a 
 gold vest." 
 
 But this is not the place to sing the loveliness of 
 Algiers and its environs. I only note enough of 
 them to show why I lingered there for weeks when 
 the investigations I had begun bore no fruit. The 
 pleasure of finding such a hotel as that of the Oasis, 
 as good as most of those in Paris itself, and situated 
 better than any of them, helped to beguile me. The 
 young proprietor, M. Delrieu, and his girl-wife had 
 evidently learned their business well. It was very 
 interesting to watch the latter, then at an age when 
 American girls would be conning their geographies 
 and grammars, officiating at the cashier's desk with 
 all the gravity of one twice her years, and giving 
 orders to servants in a tone that showed how com- 
 petent she feltr for the management of her depart- 
 ment. And there was a head-porter or concierge 
 named Victor, who had mastered the art of savoir 
 faire and could tell you anything you pleased to 
 inquire, like a walking encyclopaedia.
 
 IN AND ABOUT ALOIERt. 169 
 
 A soon discovered that Victor remembered Miss 
 Brixton well. She was accompanied, when at the 
 hotel, by a French maid and an Oriental courier, 
 whose impressive robes made a sensation among the 
 other guests. There was a legend that Blanche had 
 said that she always felt ill-dressed in the presence 
 of this magnificent fellow, in his blue and white. 
 No, Victor did not remember that the lady had any 
 acquaintances at Algiers ; certainly none had called 
 for her at the hotel, for his memory was perfect in 
 such matters. Miss Brixton had spent money liber- 
 ally, driving a great deal, going to the theatre and 
 inspecting every quarter of the city with care. Her 
 tips to the employes of the hotel had been so liberal 
 as to make her a marked guest among them. 
 
 She did not stay in Algiers steadily, the winter she 
 was there, although she retained her rooms. She 
 went into the interior with her maid and courier, 
 sometimes also with a native guide, and was gone as 
 much as two weeks at a time. Victor was positive 
 that nothing resembling a gentleman friend had 
 loomed upon the horizon. He had marked that fact 
 and commented upon it to his wife, who was a 
 femmc de chambrc, and had taken care of Miss Brix- 
 ton's apartments. They had come to the conclusion 
 that the fair Americaine was a man-hater ; for though 
 she dined in the general room, and was the subject 
 of many admiring glances, she seemed wholly blind 
 to the interest she excited among the masculine 
 set. 
 
 This information was not obtained all at onee, but 
 piecemeal, in a way not calculated to excite undue 
 suspicion. Victor received the five-franc pieces that
 
 170 OUT OP WEDLOCK. 
 
 I doled out to him and gave me the most charming 
 " mercis " imaginable. 
 
 But that was all the good it did. 
 
 Believing that I should only waste my time by 
 prolonging my stay in the city, I determined to tour 
 the rest of Algeria, as a matter of pleasure. The 
 travellers I met who had been to Constantine and 
 Biskra gave me glowing accounts of the beauties of 
 those places, and my expectations consoled me in 
 some degree for the disappointment I had ex- 
 perienced. 
 
 But on the evening before I was to leave the city 
 of Algiers I was witness to a most novel event. It 
 made a great impression upon me, and I can do no 
 less than describe it here. 
 
 I was strolling at random through the town, late in 
 the afternoon, when my attention was attracted by 
 what may have been either a military review or 
 evening drill. A regiment of soldiers was going 
 through manoeuvres in an open square of large 
 size, and as a small crowd was gathering in the 
 vicinity, I followed the rest. Before the parade was 
 dismissed and the soldiers had returned to their 
 barracks I was treated to an unusual exhibition. 
 
 The troops were drawn up in a hollow square, 
 and the look of expectancy on every face showed 
 that something unusual was about to occur. A dead 
 silence prevailed for some seconds, and then there 
 emerged from a military prison near by a small file 
 of soldiers, guarding a man and marching him at a 
 quickstep toward the main body. The man under 
 guard was dressed in dilapidated clothing, the coat 
 of which was of military cut and color. He was 
 evidently in great disgrace, for he was hurried along
 
 IN AND ABOUT ALGIERS. 171 
 
 by his escort, those behind him carrying their bayo- 
 nets uncomfortably close to his legs. 
 
 It was now evident that the soldiers were drawn 
 up for no other reason than to witness this spectacle. 
 The drums began to beat a doleful tune, to which 
 the culprit kept time. Twice was he marched 
 around the square, and then the detachment that 
 was with him halted in front of the chief officers of 
 the military bodies present. A man in the uniform 
 of a general stepped forward and in a very haughty 
 and severe tone addressed some remarks to the 
 prisoner, for such he undoubtedly was. My near- 
 ness to the parties was not so great that I could 
 hear distinctly what was said, but I gathered that 
 the prisoner was undergoing a sentence for some 
 violation of rules and that this public disgrace was 
 part of the penalty that had been pronounced upon 
 him. At the end of his harangue the officer deliber- 
 ately cut the military buttons from the coat worn by 
 the other, signifying evidently that he was debarred 
 from wearing those emblems of the service he had 
 dishonored. Then the man was marched back into 
 his jail, the band struck up a lively tune, and the 
 soldiers were soon out of sight. 
 
 Much impressed with the entire affair, I could not 
 take my eyes from the disgraced prisoner. It struck 
 me that he bore his position with extraordinary for- 
 titude, considering the trying circumstances of the 
 case. There was nothing of the hangdog look in his 
 face ; nothing, in fact, but determination and cour- 
 age. By this I do not mean bravado, either. He 
 marched to the step set for him by the drums, as if 
 il were the thing to do, knowing that any other 
 course would be met with the severest treatment.
 
 172 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 He listened respectfully to the insulting words ot 
 the officer, while a thousand of what were probably 
 his old comrades looked on. When all was over he 
 obeyed the order to return to the place of his incar- 
 ceration, just as, it seemed to me, he would have 
 marched to the knife of a guillotine, had that been 
 the destiny in store for him. 
 
 During the major portion of his march the eyes of 
 the prisoner were fixed on the ground. On the way 
 back to the jail, however, he looked about him, like 
 one who knows his present trial is nearly ended and 
 allows his eyes to assume their natural position. I 
 was so situated on the outskirts of the crowd that I 
 could now see him plainly. The impression I had 
 formed of his being above the ordinary soldier in 
 intellectual endowment was strengthened. As he 
 passed near me his gaze met mine. I suppose my 
 face reflected the sympathy I felt, perhaps the only 
 sentiment of the kind in all that throng, either civil 
 or military. The prisoner had but a fraction of a 
 second to return my look, but in that brief moment 
 he had shot a glance of gratitude that moved me to' 
 the utmost. When he had passed I turned away 
 with more than a suspicion of moisture in my eyes. 
 
 I wanted to ask someone the history of this man 
 for it interested me greatly, but I could not bring 
 myself to do so. I dreaded too much the possibility 
 of hearing that he had done something which would 
 lower him beyond repair in my estimation. His 
 pathetic figure and proud face had made an im- 
 pression on my rather susceptible imagination that 
 I did not wish effaced. I decided that it was better 
 to retain this picturesque figure in my memory thaa
 
 IN AND ABOUT ALGIERS. 173 
 
 to have it besmeared and defaced by such an uncom- 
 promising iconoclast as Truth. 
 
 For the next three months I wandered over 
 Algeria and Tunis, more and more bewitched with 
 the fascinations of the climate and the people. 
 Especially do I love the Kabyle race, whose sons 
 combine the stature of the North American Indian 
 with the gentleness of the Aztec and the intelligence 
 of the Japanese. At Biskra I never tired of the 
 Moorish cafes, where the dancing girls of that desert 
 tribe which has furnished entertainment of this sort 
 for centuries sway their lithe bodies to the music of 
 weird instruments wholly barbaric in form and tone. 
 One of the dancers, a creature of sixteen or there- 
 abouts who combined in her pretty face the attri- 
 butes of the Kabyle and the European, the latter 
 slightly predominating, and bore in her eyes a trace 
 of some ancient admixture of Nubian blood was as 
 pretty as any piece of Dresden ware. 
 
 I met her in the market place one morning with a 
 baby in her arms even prettier than herself, which it 
 took but a glance to see was her own. 
 
 " Qvf tst sen fire f" I asked, and she answered with 
 all imaginable chic, " Tout le monde" 
 
 From all these pleasures I tore myself as spring 
 approached, though the delicious climate had not 
 yet begun to be uncomfortably warm. Returning 
 to Algiers I spent a few days in trying for the last 
 time to learn something new about Miss Brixton's 
 stay there, but without avail. And, to cap the cli- 
 max, I finally received a letter from the lady her- 
 self, in which the irony was too evident to be mis* 
 taken. She had learned of my visit to this part of 
 Africa and had guessed that it might not be wholUr
 
 174 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 unconnected with a desire to penetrate the ...^-tery 
 she had guarded so well. 
 
 The letter had made the rounds, having been for- 
 warded a dozen times, and the envelope was well 
 covered with postmarks. Miss Brixton had learned 
 of my whereabouts from a newspaper paragraph 
 confound the reporter who wrote it ! and said she 
 could not help expressing a hope that I would find 
 pleasure in a country she had so much admired. 
 
 " I wish you had told me your destination," she 
 said, "for having passed a whole winter in that 
 section I might have been able to tell you something 
 of value. This will probably reach you too late to 
 be of service. All I can do, then, is to beg you, if 
 you will be so kind, to remember me to M. and 
 Mme. Delrieu, of the Hotel de 1'Oasis, and to Victor, 
 the concierge, and his wife. If you go from Algiers 
 to Spain, you will find the Roma the best hotel in 
 Malaga, and the Madrid the best not only in Seville 
 but in all the Peninsular. When are you to return 
 to America? I shall be glad to meet you again now 
 you have visited scenes where I experienced so much 
 pleasure." 
 
 It was easy to detect the sarcasm beneath these 
 apparently innocent lines. Miss Brixton suspected 
 that I was upon her track and wished me to under- 
 stand that she laughed at my endeavors. Her men- 
 tion of Spain convinced me that she believed I would 
 follow her footsteps to that country, from Africa. 
 She took pains not only to mention the cities but 
 the very hotels at which she had stopped. She had 
 no fear that I would discover anything, and her de- 
 rision seemed well founded. I had been abroad five
 
 M HE INSULTED A WOMAN." 175 
 
 months and had seen nothing that in the least 
 explained the great puzzle I had started so blithely 
 to solve. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "HE INSULTED A WOMAN." 
 
 My way to Spain was via Oran, where I was to 
 take a steamer to Malaga. Most of the country on 
 the way is of an uninteresting nature, but there are 
 occasioaal points where the traveller may stay over 
 with profit. 
 
 5 walked about Oran for a day or two, taking in 
 th views and learning the eventful history of the 
 plaee, which has been the prey successively of the 
 Berbers, Turks, Spaniards, Moors and French. The 
 site was also occupied by the Romans, whose medals 
 those ever testifying evidences of the huge paper 
 chase performed by the world's conquerors are 
 still found occasionally by some excavator. Although 
 most of the present inhabitants are of anything but 
 French origin, the town, like everything else that 
 the Gaul controls, is French in government to the 
 smallest particular. I contend that the Frenchman 
 makes the best colonist on African soil, and that it 
 would be a good thing for Morocco and the world 
 at large if every foot of that belated empire was 
 under the direction of the Elys6e. 
 
 The boats that cross to the European coast are 
 good enough affairs, not remarkably large or fast,
 
 176 OUT OF WEDLOCK:. 
 
 but endurable. There were few passengers on the 
 one I took, and after we had started, which was in 
 the evening, I went upon the deck to have a smoke 
 and enjoy the seclusion of a calm and rather dark 
 tropical night. 
 
 There were not many settees, and what there 
 were, scattered as far apart as possible. An English 
 clergyman of the Established Church, with his wife, 
 occupied one of these ; a Frenchman with what 
 appeared to be a very recently wedded bride had 
 another ; and three Spanish friends a third. I was 
 not surprised, therefore, when a gentleman who 
 had just come up the stairway approached me 
 politely, and said, " Pardon, monsieur, but I think 
 you have room for me." 
 
 The expression was in French, and though I am 
 by no means an expert in that language, I have no 
 difficulty either in understanding it or in making 
 myself understood. 
 
 One of the pleasantcst things to me in foreign jour- 
 neys, let me say in passing, is the almost unvarying 
 cpurtesy and good fellowship I have met with from 
 travellers of other nationalities. In countries where 
 I have had but the most meagre command of the 
 language I have found natives so polite, so anxious 
 to explain a knotty point or to do me a favor, that I 
 have blushed at the contrast with my own country- 
 men on like occasions. In America the struggle of 
 a foreigner with the English tongue is considered a 
 thing for mirth, seldom wholly restrained, even in 
 the best circles. The inability of a person to speak 
 English is taken to imply ignorance on his part so 
 gross as to be astonishing. In other lands, on the 
 contrary, the traveller who finds himself in a
 
 HE IK8DLTED A WOMAN. 
 
 177 
 
 dilemma is offered the best services of everyone to 
 whom he applies. A Frenchman once told me that 
 the reason his people did not laugh at mispronounced 
 French was because it had for them no element of 
 humor. He could not understand why it seemed 
 funny to anyone. A very sensible way of looking 
 at it, it seems to me. 
 
 I therefore said, " Certainly, monsieur," to the 
 stranger and further showed my good-will by offer- 
 ing him a cigar, which he accepted. In a few 
 minutes we were talking familiarly, as travellers do. 
 It was not light enough to make out his features 
 distinctly, but his voice had a melodious sound that 
 was most agreeable. Learning that I had been all 
 winter in Africa he asked what part I liked best, to 
 which I responded that, on the whole, I preferred 
 Algiers. 
 
 " Do you !" he exclaimed, in a cynical tone. a l 
 think it the most detestable spot on the globe !" 
 
 "Perhaps you did not remain long enough to 
 appreciate its beauties," I suggested, mildly. 
 
 "I have been there five or six years, most of the 
 time," he responded, with a laugh that was distinctly 
 disagreeable. 
 
 I wished it were light enough to see his face. The 
 mention of the word " Algiers " seemed to have 
 wrought a complete change in him. 
 
 " For a man who disliked it so much, you made a 
 fairly long stay," I remarked. 
 
 *' Yes," he replied ; "but sometimes there are cir- 
 cumstances over which one has no control." 
 
 I begged his pardon for the inquisitiveness I had 
 unintentionally exhibited, but he disclaimed the 
 least offense, and his voice again took on the tone
 
 178 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 that had pleased me. Learning that I was an 
 American a Continental European seldom knows 
 how to distinguish us from the English he showed 
 a deep interest in my country and overwhelmed me 
 with questions about it.^ He said he had long 
 wished to cross the Atlantic and believed he should 
 soon do so. 
 
 "Then you will not return to Algiers," I remarked, 
 innocently. 
 
 " Diable ! I hope not!" he exclaimed, and I saw 
 that I had unwittingly touched a tender place again. 
 " No, I never mean to see that cursed spot ! I shall 
 visit some relations in Spain, and then, if I do not 
 change my mind, I shall go to France." 
 
 The moon had begun to rise and as the night grew 
 lighter I glanced with great interest toward my 
 companion. His figure outlined itself by degrees, 
 but it was some time before I could discern his 
 features. As we were sitting, my own face came 
 first into the light and I fancied my companion was 
 looking at it intently, as if he had discovered some- 
 thing in it of peculiar interest. Suddenly the moon 
 shone out, and as if a curtain had been drawn away, 
 I saw distinctly the man who occupied the seat 
 with me. 
 
 " You recognize me," he said, with an uneasy 
 laugh. 
 
 I bowed. He was the man who had been marched 
 around the dravvn-up ranks of soldiers, then rep- 
 rimanded and taken back to confinement ! 
 
 "You are not flattered at discovering with whom 
 you have been talking so long." he said. "Well, I 
 do not blame you. And yet, when I saw you that
 
 " HE INSULTED A WOMAN." 179 
 
 day, I believed there was in your eyes the quality of 
 mercy." 
 
 I hastened to assure him that he was judging me 
 too quickly, if he imagined I had any disposition to 
 avoid him. I admitted that I was slightly affected 
 by the unexpectedness of the occurrence, but that I 
 was quite as glad to have him for a companion as if 
 I had not been the witness of his unhappy experi- 
 ence. 
 
 " You are not a Frenchman," said he, after return- 
 ing a low bow to my remarks. " Otherwise you 
 would modify the sentiments which you mention, 
 and which I am bound to believe you state correctly. 
 It is plain to you that I have been undergoing the 
 sentence of a court-martial, for an offense of which 
 I was adjudged guilty. It is all very well for a 
 convicted man to declare himself innocent they all 
 do that but people are not supposed to believe them. 
 Having, then, according to the record, disgraced my 
 service, my family and my rank, I could only live in 
 peace in France by assuming a false name and hid- 
 ing myself cither in some country village, or in the 
 corners of our great capital. Neither of these things 
 am I willing to do, and I shall consequently either 
 emigrate to America, or go to some other distant 
 point where I am unlikely to meet many of my 
 countrymen." 
 
 I again begged my companion to believe that he 
 had not read incorrectly the sentiments which 
 affected me on the day I first saw him ; and I added 
 that I could say with equal earnestness that I felt 
 assured that an injustice had been done him in some 
 way. 
 
 " You are most kind to say so," he answered. " If
 
 180 our or WEDLOCK. 
 
 we remain long together I will tell you the simple 
 truth about the whole affair, and you may judge 
 whether I have been wronged. For the present let 
 us leave a disagreeable subject. Will you kindly 
 tell me whether you are a member of any of the pro- 
 fessions, or whether you are engaged in commercial 
 pursuits. Though," he added, with a winning smile, 
 " Americans are so stupendously wealthy, I suppose 
 few of them do anything toward gaining a liveli- 
 hood." 
 
 In response I handed him my card and received 
 his own. On his were engraved the words, " Mau- 
 rice Olivier Fantelli." 
 
 One of the first things that my new friend asked 
 was that I should call him " Maurice," to which I 
 consented with some demur. We passed a pleasant 
 evening and the next day he agreed to go with me 
 through the southern part of Spain, as he had some 
 days to spare before he expected his brother to meet 
 him. 
 
 A description of the pleasures of our journey 
 would be superfluous here. But you may find more 
 interesting an account of some conversations that I 
 had with M. Fantelli, occurring from time to time 
 on the trains as we passed through the country. 
 
 "Your name is not wholly French, is it?" I asked 
 him, one day. " It sounds to me as if it had an 
 Italian origin." 
 
 " You are partly right," said he. " It was originally 
 Corsican, like that of the Buonapartes. But we think 
 ourselves as French now as the President. My 
 family has been very proud of its standing, our 
 representatives having held office under most of the 
 recent legitimate sovereigns and been selected for
 
 "IIK INSULTED A WOMAN." 181 
 
 important posts even under the Republic. This 
 generation is the first," he added, bitterly, "to be 
 accused of sullying its fair name." 
 
 I took advantage of the opportunity to remind my 
 friend that he had not yet told me anything of the 
 trouble to which he referred. 
 
 " I will not deny that my curiosity has been much 
 excited over your case," I said. " I felt, even by 
 that brief look in your eyes, when you were marched 
 by me a prisoner, that you were the victim of some 
 terrible wrong. My closer acquaintance makes me 
 all the more certain that such is the case that you 
 must have been punished for an offense you never 
 committed." 
 
 He paused for some seconds, apparently engrossed 
 with the hedges that lined the railway for miles 
 hedges from whence come the red and white roses 
 that adorn the dark tresses of the Spanish beauties 
 at church, theatre and ball. 
 
 " I intend to tell you everything, by-and-by," he 
 said, slowly. " To-day let me only correct you in 
 one important point. The offense with which I was 
 charged was one I really did commit. It was an 
 attempt on the life of a brother officer. The fact 
 was as stated in the complaint I did my best to 
 kill him. Had I succeeded I might not be sitting 
 here talking with you. Luckily, as I now view it, 
 the bullet I fired did not penetrate as deeply as I 
 intended it should." 
 
 I was surprised at this confession, which I had not 
 in the least anticipated. Fantelli looked at me 
 searchingly, to note the effect of his statement, and 
 I did my best to conceal the shock it gave me. 
 
 * Before you condemn me too severely," he said,
 
 1S2 OCT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 " let me vouchsafe a word of explanation. In raising 
 my hand against that man I had no private grief to 
 satisfy. We had been friends for years were at that 
 very time, or a moment before, the closest comrades 
 in our division. What was the matter, then ? He 
 did something that I cou4d not forgive in any man, 
 no matter what ties bound him to me. He insulted 
 a woman in my presence." 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 FANTELLI ASTONISHED. 
 
 It was growing interesting. The closing statement 
 had indeed put a different aspect on the affair. My 
 friend was no ordinary assassin, no mere quick- 
 tempered slasher who could not control his temper 
 when his pride was touched, but a chevalier who 
 had resented an injury to the feelings of a lady ! 
 
 " It must have been a very gross insult," I 
 suggested. 
 
 " It was. So gross that I found my blood on fire 
 in an instant, and grasping a revolver I discharged 
 it at my whilom friend before I had time to form a 
 thought. In due time I was put on my trial. In 
 spite of all attempts to entrap me I refused to 
 explain the cause of my act. My brother soldier did 
 all he could to save me, though his hurt was so great 
 that he had to leave the service, and I fear will never 
 fully recover. My sentence, at first much more 
 severe, was commuted at last to five years imprison-
 
 PANTELLI ASTONISHED. 183 
 
 ment, with a semi-annual proceeding of the kind you 
 witnessed. To the untiring efforts of the man I 
 wounded I am indebted for the pardon which has 
 set me free, but leaves me little better than an alien 
 of the country to which I would gladly give my life." 
 
 The concluding words were spoken with deep 
 feeling and enlisted my warmest sympathy. As 
 Maurice had relapsed into silence I did not annoy 
 him by questions, though I wanted very much to 
 hear fuller particulars. It was several days later, 
 after we had visited Grenada and were on our way 
 to Seville, that the matter was referred to again. 
 
 " Does the lady for whom you struck your brother 
 officer know of the trouble your act has caused you ?" 
 I asked. 
 
 " Yes," he replied. 
 
 " She should have been profoundly grateful," I 
 said. " I hope her actions showed that she appre- 
 ciated it." 
 
 " Ah," he answered, " there was no question of 
 that !" 
 
 Ashamed to draw him out piecemeal, as I was 
 doing, I could not help, nevertheless, from pursuing 
 my investigations. 
 
 " A romance has sprung before now out of a lesser 
 circumstance," I suggested. " To make it complete 
 in your case this lady should have married you." 
 
 He shifted uneasily in his place and waited a 
 minute before replying. 
 
 " A man under sentence a disgraced man, is 
 not the finest match in the world," he said. 
 ** Besides the fact is I am married." 
 
 I said " Oh !" and bade adieu regretfully to what
 
 184: OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 I had hoped would prove a more entertaining 
 episode. 
 
 "You have spoken of your brother officer so often 
 and never of your wife," I explained, " that I natur- 
 ally supposed you single. And madame, she is in 
 France, I presume ?" 
 
 A strange mixture of emotions convulsed my 
 companion's features. - 
 
 "It is a long time since I have seen her," he said. 
 " We have separated for good a sort of American 
 custom, is it not? I have heard that your marriage 
 ties are very easily arranged." 
 
 I could not help asking just one more question, 
 when he had last seen the lady in whose behalf 
 he had made so great a sacrifice. He answered 
 that his arrest had prevented his seeing anyone 
 until within the present month. 
 
 " But," I said, " you will now seek to renew your 
 acquaintance with her.* 
 
 "Although I am married !" he replied, with a 
 rising inflection. 
 
 " There are friendships that do not depend on 
 love," I replied, with some confusion. 
 
 " Even between men and women ?" he asked, 
 eyeing me narrotvly. 
 
 "Certainly. Some of the best and truest." 
 
 He looked at me earnestly. 
 
 "I believe you wholly," he said. " In spite of at! 
 the evil there is in the world, some hearts remain 
 true and good. But in the case to which you refer 
 I fear my presence would not be welcome. I should 
 only recall a scene that must have been very dis 
 tasteful."
 
 FANTELI.I ASTONISH KD. 185 
 
 "But the lady," I asked. "Was she of your 
 country ?" 
 
 " No, she was English ; or perhaps American. I 
 know she spoke the English tongue, though I did 
 not understand it well enough to talk much with 
 Ver." 
 
 In an instant my imagination took a wild flight. 
 Could it be that I had stumbled on something that 
 would give me a clue to Miss Brixton's secret, after 
 searching for it in vain so long? At Malaga all I 
 had learned was that she had stopped at the Roma, 
 with her maid, the courier having been dismissed at 
 Oran. At Ronda, Grenada, and the other places en 
 route, this was the. only story in connection with 
 her visit. Never a man that had been seen speaking 
 to her, nothing in the least clandestine. She was 
 seldom out at night and then the concierge of the 
 hotel deputied someone to accompany the two 
 women. She had left behind a memory of good 
 nature, extreme politeness and generosity. Could it 
 be that the English or American lady and Con- 
 tinentals never can tell them apart was the erratic 
 daughter of George Brixton ? 
 
 On what could I base such a theory ? On the 
 mere fact thus far that a lady who spoke English 
 had been known by my new acquaintance in Algeria, 
 had been insulted by his brother officer, and the 
 officer had been wounded. Of what did the insult 
 consist ? A thousand possibilities filled my brain. 
 My theory became so fascinating that I feared to 
 ask anything more in relation to it lest it should by 
 the first reply be dashed to the ground. 
 
 " Pardon me," I said, when I was unable to contain
 
 186 our or WEDLocr. 
 
 myself any longer. " Do you know the name of this 
 lady ?" 
 
 He flushed, a not unbecoming habit that he had 
 when cornered. 
 
 " If I did," he answered, " I could not, of course, 
 divulge it. As a matter of fact, I do not. I only 
 know what I presume are her initials, and of that 
 I am not entirely certain." 
 
 I must find out whether there was anything in my 
 guess and I hesitated no longer. 
 
 "Were those initials,"! asked, " anything like 
 ' B. B. ?' " 
 
 Fantelli sprang up, greatly excited. Presently, 
 however, he fell back into his seat and gasped out a 
 question : 
 
 " Were those initials hazarded at random ?" 
 
 M Not at all," I answered. " I know a lady who 
 bears them and I know she was several years ago 
 in Algiers for the winter. There are other things 
 that lead me to fancy she may be the heroine of 
 your story." 
 
 He breathed hard, evidently overcome with aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 "What other things ?" he asked. 
 
 " She has told me a veny strange tale, including a 
 statement that a certain man met with a violent 
 death. You say that your brother officer narrowly 
 escaped losing his life." 
 
 As Maurice gasped again, I thought how impos- 
 sible it was for the one who attempts a homicide, 
 even in the best cause, to forget what he has done. 
 
 " When did you last see the lady you speak of ?* 
 asked Fantelli, with great earnestness. 
 
 ** Last autumn."
 
 FANTELLI ASTONISHED. 187 
 
 * In England ?" 
 
 " In America." 
 
 "What was she doing there?" 
 
 " She was spending her time principally in the care 
 of her infant." 
 
 Again the Frenchman rose to his feet, trembling 
 in every limb. 
 
 " I think we had best drop the subject," I re- 
 marked uneasily. 
 
 " No !" lie said, sharply. " I insist that you answer 
 me. How old is this infant ?" 
 
 I motioned him to regain his seat and he complied. 
 Then I gave him the child's age as well as I could. 
 Whereupon he deluged me with more questions than 
 I could answer. 
 
 "Very well," he said, finally. "You are right; 
 the best thing is for us to talk of something else." 
 
 "Not on my account," I said. "I am willing to 
 admit, now that we have gone so far, that my chief 
 object in coming to Africa and Spain was to obtain 
 tidings of this very matter. 
 
 Another of his impetuous motions betrayed the 
 nervous nature that was in him. 
 
 "She sent you ?" he hazarded. 
 
 " No." 
 
 I explained to him my connection with the Brixton 
 estate. 
 
 *' And what do you conclude now?" he asked. 
 
 " I think the child of my friend, Miss B.," I an- 
 swered, slowly, " is also that of the officer you 
 assaulted." 
 
 My companion shook his head. Then he mur- 
 mured " Absurd !" and seemed much agitated. 
 
 ** I wish to know that officer's name, his rank, his
 
 188 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 family, and his present residence/' I continued. 
 ** When I have ascertained these facts, I shall hav 
 done." 
 
 *' How will you get them ?" 
 
 **By returning at once to Algiers." 
 
 Fantelli smiled faintly. 
 
 "I will save' you all that trouble," he replied, 
 politely. " He was a colonel, his name is Louis Des- 
 moulins, and his city is Dijon." 
 
 Taking out a memorandum book I noted each of 
 these facts carefully. 
 
 " Now," said Maurice, coldly, " there will be noth 
 ing, I presume, to detain you in Europe. Let me only 
 suggest that if you speak of me to the lady we have 
 been so freely discussing, you will use me as gently 
 as you can. I assure you I have given correctly the 
 information you craved. In return will you favor 
 me with your full American address, in order that I 
 may communicate with you in case I ever ascertain 
 anything else of importance ?" 
 
 I handed him my card, with the address of my 
 banker at New York written thereon, and we parted 
 without enthusiasm, when his brother met him at 
 Seville. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 BLANCHE GOES ABROAD IN HAST*. 
 
 I will not pretend that I was wholly comfortable 
 in mind after I parted from Monsieur Fantelli. I 
 had endeavored to pry into the secrets of a fellow
 
 BLANCHE GOES ABROAD Itf HA8T& 
 
 traveller in a way that could hardly have raised roe 
 in his estimation. By answering my inquiries in 
 respect to Monsieur Desmoulins in such a frank 
 way, Maurice had given a final stroke to my self- 
 abasement. He had been in all things the thorough 
 gentleman, while I had acted like an emissary of the 
 police, bent on discovering certain facts at any cost. 
 It was growing warmer and I journeyed leisurely 
 toward the north. I had no desire to return to 
 America at that time of year. The scorching rays 
 of the sun on the soil of my country during a great 
 part of the summer make it uninviting to one who 
 has experienced the more temperate airs of Europe. 
 But I could not refrain from writing an answer to 
 the letter I had received from Miss Brixton, to show 
 that her sarcasm was not wholly deserved, and that 
 I was not in such total ignorance of her adven- 
 tures as she believed. There was not much to tell, 
 it is true, but I had enough to mystify her. This is 
 the letter I wrote : 
 
 * MY DEAR Miss BRIXTON : Your very considerate note 
 reached me just as I was leaving Africa. I remembered 
 you with pleasure to Monsieur and Madame Delrien, but I 
 had already talked about you with them and discovered 
 that they were much interested in your welfare. Victor 
 and his pretty wife had also learned that I knew you. For 
 a lady who spent so brief a season in Algiers I must say 
 you left a remarkably pleasant impression. 
 
 * I am now on my way to Paris, where I expect to stay 
 till about the first of July. From there I shall go to Bou 
 logne-sur-Mer, a place I would advise you to visit the next 
 time you go abroad. I shall make but few stops on my 
 way north and spend not more than a day or two in a place, 
 unless it be at Dijon, where I intend to see some old friend*
 
 190 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 by the name of Desmoulins, whose son Louis was badly 
 wounded some time ago in Algeria. I wondered if you knew 
 of the circumstance ? It is said that a peculiar affair of the 
 heart preceded it ; but these French call all sorts of things 
 affairs du caeur ? It made a sensation at the time. His 
 assailant, the young and dashing M. F., was a general favor- 
 ite and his sentence provoked widespread regret. 
 
 " May I beg that you will kiss Master Wallace for me, and 
 that, if you have the time to spare, you will send me a line 
 with the latest news, addressed in care of Hottinguer & Cie., 
 38 Rue de Provence. Ever your friend," 
 
 "J.M." 
 
 At Paris I engaged a pieasant suite of rooms on 
 the Boulevard Hausmann. This was a pleasure I 
 had promised myself years before, on the occasion 
 of my first visit to the imperial city. I do not know 
 what makes this boulevard seem to me the most 
 majestic in all Paris, but that is the impression I 
 have always had. There is an indefinable some* 
 thing that none of the others, grand though they be, 
 can boast. 
 
 A letter from a banker at Dijon proved that Mon- 
 sieur Desmoulins was well known there, as well as 
 the fact that he was injured in Algeria in a private 
 quarrel. His health was still poor and he was sup- 
 posed to be travelling. This proved that Maurice 
 had been honest with me. 
 
 A fortnight later I received a second letter from 
 Miss Brixton. She had evidently wasted little time 
 before replying to my communication, and she had 
 thrown aside all of her badinage. 
 
 "Your letter (she said) interested me more that I 
 Can explain. And now I want to ask a favor of you. 
 Tell me without circumlocution from whom you
 
 BLANCHE O0i:s ABROAD IN HASTE. 191 
 
 learned the facts of the assault on Monsieur D. and 
 the sentence of Monsieur F. Do what I ask and I 
 may soon.be able to tell you more than I have yet 
 revealed to any human being of that episode in my 
 life at which the world seems astounded and for 
 which I am still unforgiven by my closest friends. 
 Do not hesitate, I pray. The matter has gone beyond 
 the trivial stage and is of the greatest seriousness 
 to me." 
 
 I smiled with the air of a conqueror when I read 
 these lines. It was plain that I had touched my 
 correspondent in a tender place and that I should 
 accomplish most of what I had resolved upon when 
 1 left Dr. Robertson's office, six months before. My 
 next letter was brief, but written with care : 
 
 " Receive my assurance (I said), if you need it 
 that I would do anything to serve your true interests. 
 While I have learned much about your winter in 
 Algeria, I have divulged nothing except the fact 
 which you certainly do not appear to wish con- 
 cealed, that you are a mother. My chief informant 
 was M. Fantelli, who was for some time my travel- 
 ling companion. He received his pardon two 
 months ago or so, and has left Algeria." 
 
 I had been about a fortnight at Boulogne-sur-Mer. 
 Each day I was growing fonder of the lazy life by 
 the sea. The odd machines in which one takes his 
 long ride into the surf ; the cavaliers who draw 
 the conveyances out or in, according to the direction 
 the tide is moving ; the picturesque figures in bath- 
 ing costumes, that cover the littoral by the hundred ; 
 the fashionably attired ladies and gentlemen who 
 occupy chairs along the beach, or sit under canopies 
 to watch the never-ending show all make Boulogne
 
 192 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 one of the most delightful spots during the season. 
 In the evening there are drives and climbs to the 
 grand heights above, and the watching of the fisher- 
 men and fisherwomen, clad in their quaint costumes, 
 bare-legged and crowned with the queerest hats 
 you ever saw ; and then the handsome toilettes that 
 fill the Casino and its illuminated grounds. In the 
 village streets I could walk for days, glancing at the 
 clean interiors of the low houses, where the heavy 
 wooden beds and bureaus of the present occupants' 
 grandfathers put to shame the modern spider-legged 
 contrivances ; and where the indispensable pendule in 
 all its glory of gilt seldom attempts in any way to 
 indicate the passing hours. 
 
 Boulogne I prefer you to Ostcnd, to Brighton 
 even to that loveliest of American seaside resorts, 
 Narragansett Pier ! 
 
 I knew that one of the Amsterdam steamers had 
 made her landing, but something more attractive 
 chained me to the hotel. A north of England girl, 
 twenty years of age, with a physique that could not 
 be excelled, was telling me that the only fault she 
 found with Boulogne was the warmth of the water. 
 She was accustomed to bathe every day at home in 
 the North Sea, whose temperature, I understand, is 
 about that of ordinary ice water, and the waves at 
 Boulogne, which I thought rather chilly, struck her 
 as merely tepid. The girl had the English color. 
 Her eye was bright ; her arms, showing through the 
 lace-like sleeves of her basque, were round as a 
 child's. She weighed, as she herself informed me, 
 thirteen stone I had to reckon it into pounds 
 though she was but five feet three in height. She 
 had a hand and foot that would not be considered
 
 BLANCHE GOES ABROAD IS HASTE. 193 
 
 fashionably small in American circles, but they fitted 
 the rest of her figure to perfection. I have always felt 
 a sense of gratitude to Mr. Edgar Fawcett because 
 he was willing that his gigantic heroine, Miriam 
 Ballestier, should have feet in proportion to her size. 
 This north of England girl was a fine specimen from 
 every sensible standpoint, and no Atlantic liner was 
 sufficient to lure me from her. 
 
 Time passes more rapidly than one can account 
 for when such pleasant company is being enjoyed. 
 Before I should have supposed it possible for the 
 steamer's passengers to reach the hotel, a garden 
 came into the parlor and handed me a note. My 
 surprise could hardly be exceeded when I saw the 
 signature of Blanche Brixton at the end. 
 
 She had just arrived and wished to see me with- 
 out delay in her private parlor. 
 
 Excusing myself to my buxom companion I fan- 
 cied a shade of pique came into her ruddy coun- 
 tenance I went at once to Miss Brixton's rooms. 
 The familiar face met my eyes as soon as the door 
 was opened to me. But it was not the happy, com* 
 posed face I had known in New York. It was thai 
 of one who had been in deep trouble. 
 
 " I beg pardon sincerely ;*->r sending for you in 
 such haste," she said, as soon as she had taken my 
 hand and motioned me to a seat. " I am very tired, 
 and a sea voyage always unnerves me." 
 
 " You were ill on the ocean ?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes; it was a most unpleasant passage. You 
 did not expect me, did you ? I thought at first of 
 cabling, but it seemed absurd. Really, I am making 
 you no cud. of annoyance. I wonder what you think 
 me."
 
 OFT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 I assured her that she had not troubled me at aii, 
 and that I was most pleased to see her and render 
 any service in my power. Then I inquired after the 
 health of the child, and with whom she had left it. 
 
 "Good heavens! Did you imagine I could go 
 away so far without Wallace !" she exclaimed. " He 
 is in the next room with Julia, being put to bed for 
 his nap." 
 
 " You must have started in haste," I observed, " if 
 you came after you received my last letter." 
 
 Miss Brixton clasped her hands nervously 
 together. 
 
 " Oh, I did !" she replied. " I wanted to know so 
 many things, and and it takes so long for the 
 mails." 
 
 I waited patiently for her to continue. She was 
 evidently influenced by some intense emotion. I 
 would gladly have helped to soothe her had I known 
 the best way to do it. 
 
 " Why did you interest yourself in my secret ?" 
 she ejaculated, as if in pain. " I was happy and con- 
 tented, and now I am utterly miserable !" 
 
 "I do not understand how anything have done 
 should have that effect on you," I exclaimed, as- 
 tonished. 
 
 Miss Brixton turned her face from me, apparently 
 to conceal some spasm that was about to cross it. 
 
 " Of course you don't !" she answen~i, chokingly. 
 " And I cannot make you, unless I tell you every- 
 *hing r which I cannot yet do. You have a theory, I 
 am sure about me about this affair. Won't you 
 tell me what it is ?" 
 
 "Miss Brixton," I said, "the state of mind in 
 which I find you puzzles me greatly. I supposed
 
 BLANCHE GOES ABROAD IN HASTE. 195 
 
 from all that you had said to me, and what others 
 had told me, that you were perfectly certain that 
 you had done right that you had no regrets on 
 account of your child. Now I am led to believe " 
 
 She stopped me before I could go any farther. 
 
 "This is too cruel !" she cried. " You are imagin- 
 ing things that have no foundation. I love my child 
 as much as ever, I have no regrets in connection 
 with Aim, not one ! But you have been in Algeria 
 you have met you say a certain gentleman. And 
 what I ask is, what theory have you formulated ?" 
 
 In spite of the assurances she had given me, I had 
 r feeling of a decidedly unpleasant nature when I 
 told her what I suspected namely, that Monsieur 
 Desmoulins was the father of Wallace. She uttered, 
 a little " Oh !" and covered her face with both hands. 
 For a minute I thought she was about to burst into 
 tears. 
 
 "Monsieur Fantelli he did not say that?" sh^j 
 asked, in low, trembling tones. 
 
 " No. He said little except that he had tried to 
 kill his friend on your account. And he gave me a 
 few particulars about himself, such as that he had a 
 brother at Lyons and a wife somewhere. He " 
 
 My companion rose to her feet and stared at me 
 wildly. 
 
 "A wife!" she exclaimed. "He has married, 
 then, since I saw him ?" 
 
 "Long before," I replied, "judging by the way h* 
 spoke. He said she had gone her way and he did 
 rtot intend to search for her. He seemed embittered 
 by her desertion at a time when he most needed her 
 sympathy, and I connected the occurrence with his 
 incarceration."
 
 196 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 A thousand emotions chased each other over the 
 mobile face that was turned toward me, but at the 
 time I had no key to a single one of them. 
 
 "And I think you wrote me that you told him 
 about Wallace ?" she said next. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " What did he say ?" 
 
 " He seemed intensely surprised." 
 
 Miss Brixton nodded her head, more to herself 
 than to me, and gazed at the carpet for some seconds 
 without speaking. 
 
 "You are going to remain at Boulogne for some 
 time longer, I presume ?" she said, finally. Then, 
 when I had responded in the affirmative, she added, 
 "I am so tired now that I will ask you to excuse me. 
 To-morrow, if you are willing, I will talk with you 
 again." 
 
 She bowed me out politely and I went in search 
 of my North Sea divinity. But she had fled and the 
 parlor that had known her knew her no more that 
 lay. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ** QUEL AGE AS TU, MON BE^g ?'* 
 
 When Boulogne-sur-Mer is open to anyone who 
 chooses to go there it ought not to have surprised 
 me to see, a few days after the arrival of Miss Brix- 
 ton, the two brothers Fantelli sauntering along the 
 Plaza. J met them squarely, and all three of us
 
 "QUEL AGE AS TU, MON BBBE?" 197 
 
 raised our hats after the European custom. I did 
 not intend to stop, for my parting with Maurice had 
 been rather cold, but Monsieur Maxime, first ad- 
 dressing some remark in a very low tone to his 
 brother, stepped aside and gave me his hand cor- 
 dially. 
 
 "I did not expect to meet you," he said, with a 
 smile. " It is some distance from here to Seville." 
 
 " Yes," I admitted, "but Boulogne is an old friend 
 of mine. Besides," I added, with a glance at 
 Maurice," I have acquaintances here from America ; 
 a certain lady of whom I spoke to Monsieur when 
 we were in Spain." 
 
 Maurice Fantelli flushed visibly at my statement. 
 He seemed ill at ease, and turning abruptly to his 
 brother, alluded to an engagement that they were 
 on the way to keep when my presence interrupted 
 their walk. 
 
 " It is eleven o'clock already," he said. " We shall 
 certainly be late." 
 
 " Directly, mon frlre" replied Monsieur Maxime. 
 " The lady is, then, of particular interest to you, I 
 judge ?" he said to me. " A sweetheart, perhaps, 
 or but I think you are not married ?" 
 
 " Excuse us, won't you ?" spoke up Maurice, with 
 unconcealed agitation. " We will see you later in 
 the day. You are so careless about appointments," 
 he added, to his brother, " that I really must remind 
 you again of the hour. Good-day, Monsieur Med- 
 ford." 
 
 At the same time that he said these words, Mau- 
 rice telegraphed with his eyes a plea that I would 
 make no further allusion to the American lady 
 before his brother, and I saw no reason why I should
 
 198 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 not oblige him. Consequently I mentioned that I 
 also had an engagement, and that I hoped to meet 
 them in the evening at the Casino. 
 
 Two hours later, as I was coming from breakfast 
 or lunch, as the Americans would say I met Mau- 
 rice, who craved a brief audience in my private 
 apartment. 
 
 "Don't criticize my conduct too strongly," were 
 his first words, when we were inside my parlor. " I 
 know I seemed disagreeable to you at Seville, but I 
 had things to trouble me. We are still friends, I 
 hope, or at least not enemies. What I wish to ask is 
 that you will refrain from alluding to madame in the 
 presence of my brother. He he does not under- 
 stand and it is for the advantage of all concerned 
 that he should not. Give me your word as a gentle- 
 man that you will do this, and I shall feel secure. 
 Otherwise, I must make an excuse to get him to 
 leave Boulogne at once." 
 
 More mystery ! 
 
 " I shall be very glad to make your mind easy," I 
 said. " But he is likely to learn of the matter from 
 others if he remains here. Miss Brixton is in this 
 very hotel, with her child, and she may meet you 
 and him at any moment." 
 
 He glanced apprehensively at the door as if he 
 expected she might enter. 
 
 "In this house!" he repeated. "She and her 
 child >" 
 
 " Yes. They arrived on the last Amsterdam 
 steamer." 
 
 He seemed lost in thought for several minutes. 
 
 " Pardon me," he said, at last. " I answered a
 
 " QUEL AGE AS TF, MON BEBE ?" 199 
 
 great many questions for you, when we were at 
 Oran. Will you answer a few for me ?" 
 
 "If I can." 
 
 " Why did Mees how do you pronounce her 
 name " 
 
 " Brixton." 
 
 " Brees-ton. Why has she come to Europe at this 
 time ?" 
 
 " Well," I answered, " to be frank with you, she 
 came on account of a letter I wrote, informing her that 
 I had heard of her African experience." 
 
 Maurice looked greatly puzzled. 
 
 " She came all the way across the ocean on that 
 account !" he said. 
 
 " Yes. She wanted to hear the fullest particulars 
 from my own lips, and lost no time in doing so. An 
 Atlantic journey is not. so great an undertaking as it 
 once was." 
 
 The Frenchman measured his words with nicety. 
 
 " And when she arrived you told her what ?" 
 
 " That I had met you " 
 
 " Diable!" 
 
 " And that you had told me " 
 
 " Sacr/ bleu, I told you nothing! I beg your 
 pardon !" 
 
 " I told her I had learned about her child's father. 
 That was it, in brief." 
 
 Maurice blinked as if a musket ball had whizzeq 
 by his eyes. 
 
 " You told her " he echoed. 
 
 " I told her what I knew." 
 
 Fantelli's face wore a strange expression. 
 
 " And what did the lady say ?" he asked. 
 
 44 What could she say ?"
 
 200 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 ' How long will she remain abroad ?" 
 
 "A long time, probably." 
 
 "For what purpose?" he inquired, suspiciously. 
 
 " Perhaps to see Monsieur Desmoulins or you," I 
 hazarded, at random. 
 
 He rose, took a few strides up and down the room, 
 and ejaculated, " Oh, no !" with some vigor. "No, 
 indeed ! If she knew I was in Boulogne she would 
 leave it to-morrow. I think you had best tell her, if 
 you will be so kind. Maxime has planned to stay a 
 month and we shall be in constant danger of run- 
 ning across Mees Brees-ton, which wou*d be annoy- 
 ing." 
 
 I remarked that I should certainly inform her that 
 he was in the village, if he desired it, but that a brief 
 note from his own hand would answer the same 
 purpose. 
 
 "I write so execrably, after my long confinement 
 at manual labor," he said, in excuse, " that I fear she 
 could never read it. Just mention that I am here 
 speak as if I were alone, you know, for of course she 
 does not know anything about the other members of 
 my family and mark the result. On the next 
 morning she will pack her tilings and start for some 
 other quarter of the globe. By-the-way, monsieur, 
 could you manage to let me see her boy ?" 
 
 I ca v .ed a servant and gave him a note to Miss 
 Brixton, in which I stated that an acquaintance of 
 mine wished to see her offspring, and would she 
 allow him to be brought up for a few minutes. 
 When Wallace reached the room, which was half an 
 hour later, so anxious had the fond mamma been to 
 make him thoroughly presentable, Fantelli examined 
 him with the greatest interest.
 
 AGE AS TU, MON BEBB?" 201 
 
 Quet age as tu, mon btbtf he said, caressingly, 
 passing his hands through the little fellow's curls. 
 
 " He does not speak French," I explained, when 
 the boy looked blankly at the unfamiliar face and 
 listened to the strange tongue- 
 
 44 Pas un mot f" 
 
 44 Not one. Who should have taught him ?" 
 
 Fantelli said "To be sure," in a low tone and 
 resumed his inspection of the infant. 
 
 44 Why the deuce did I never learn English ?" he 
 exclaimed. ** To think that I can't ask this chap his 
 age in a way that he can understand ! His mother 
 is equally ignorant, I think, of the most beautiful 
 tongue f Well, he is a pretty fellow, and I am 
 infinitely obliged to you." 
 
 As he was apparently through with his inspection, 
 I took Wallace to the maid, who was in waiting out- 
 side my door, and delivered him into her custody. 
 
 44 What is that name you called him ?" asked 
 Maurice when I returned. 
 
 44 Wallace." 
 
 "Vallees?" he repeated, struggling with the pro- 
 nunciation. 4< What kind of name is that ?" 
 
 I told him it was probably a mere fancy, a name 
 that happened to suit the taste of his mother. 
 
 44 Oh, I remember," he replied. " You do not 
 name children after the saints, as we do. I thought 
 there could be no St. Vallees. Well, the name is 
 good enough. And tfie surname you tell me she 
 calls the boy Brees-ton." 
 
 44 Wallace Brixton, yes." 
 
 Monsieur Fantelli shook his head. 
 
 "But does not that excite comment ?" he asked. 
 * 4 What kind ot arrangements nave you in America^
 
 202 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 by which a child takes his mother's name instead of 
 his father's ? Is that the custom in your country ? 
 Explain it to me, please ?" 
 
 I did not know as I had a right to enter into a full 
 explanation, especially as it was doubtful if he 
 Would appreciate the very peculiar circumstances of 
 this very peculiar case. So I told him it was 
 another fancy of Miss Brixton's. 
 
 " She always calls herself Mees Brees-ton, does 
 she ?" he asked. " Not Madame ?" 
 
 " Exactly. She is a very independent woman, 
 with a fortune of her own, and does as she pleases." 
 
 He murmured that it was most unaccountable. 
 Feeling that one good turn deserved another, and 
 that I ought to receive something in return for ali 
 the information I was imparting, I tried to get him 
 to tell me fuller particulars about his part in the 
 Algerian affair. But he was reticent still. 
 
 " Won't you say in what your friend, the colonel's, 
 insult consisted ?" I asked. 
 
 u Ah, mon ami! You must excuse me. That 
 matter is of such a painful nature that I cannot bear 
 to recall it. Poor Louis has paid dearly for his 
 fault !" 
 
 "But I do not see why she should avoid you" I 
 said. "Your part in the matter seems to have been 
 a most honorable one." 
 
 He thanked me by a low bow, and said it did not 
 follow that madame held that opinion. Besides, 
 why did I not question her in relation to it. If she 
 was willing to tell me he would interpose no 
 objection. 
 
 As there was no more to be got out of him I was 
 not sorry when he brought the interview to a close
 
 "QUEL AGE AS TU, MON BKBE?" 203 
 
 It had taken up an hour of my time not worth 
 much, it is true, but worse than wasted, so far as I 
 could see. 
 
 That evening, while sitting on the veranda with 
 Miss Brixton, who spent considerable of her leisure 
 time in my company, I resolved to tell her that 
 Monsieur Fantelli was at Boulogne and mark the 
 effect of the news. 
 
 " I met an old acquaintance of yours to-day," was 
 the way I began it. Then, as she glanced at me 
 inquiringly, I continued, " from Algiers." 
 
 The color left her cheek, as she turned a frightened 
 face toward me. 
 
 "Who?" she whispered. 
 
 " Monsieur Fantelli." 
 
 " Here I" she cried, incredulously. 
 
 " Here, in this hotel. He was in my room for an 
 hour this very afternoon." 
 
 She drew a long breath and her eyes opened 
 wider. 
 
 " And it was he to whom you showed my boy !" 
 
 I nodded to admit that she was right in her 
 supposition. 
 
 " Mr. Medford," she said, biting her lips, " that 
 was not fair." 
 
 " So far as I knew it was perfectly right," I replied. 
 " If you persist in keeping the main facts of your 
 case from me, you must not be surprised if I err in 
 judgment, groping as I am in the dark." 
 
 I could see that she relented. 
 
 " What did he say about Wallace ?" she inquired, 
 breathing heavily. 
 
 " That he was a handsome child, and that he 
 regretted they could not speak a common tongue."
 
 204 OUT or WEDLOCK. 
 
 "Was that all?* 
 
 " That was all." 
 
 "And about me ?" 
 
 " That you would leave Boulogne if you knew he 
 were here." 
 
 With the ingenuousness of a woman or a criminal 
 lawyer she cross-questioned me for some minutes in 
 relation to the Frenchman, but I had nothing more 
 to tell her. When I asked again if she would not 
 make me a participant in the full secret she was 
 carrying, she shook her head and said : "Not quite 
 yet," in a way that left me certain she had a pain at 
 her heart that prevented her speaking. 
 
 The next day I did not see either of the brothers 
 Fantelli. They must have kept out of sight on pur- 
 pose, for I took my morning bath in the surf and 
 spent much of the afternoon in the Casino, where all 
 the men were in the habit of congregating. 
 
 After dinner I proposed to Miss Brixton that we 
 take a stroll together, something we had been talk- 
 ing of doing the first pleasant evening, and she made 
 the excuse that she had some letters to write and 
 should not go out. Rather lonely, I waited till after 
 nine o'clock and then took my solitary way along the 
 path that Jed to the cathedral on the heights above. 
 Having inspected the neighborhood often I walked 
 listlessly along, bent merely on killing the heavy 
 hours that intervened between me and bedtime. 
 Occasionally figures passed me, mostly of the fisher- 
 folk who live in that vicinity. 
 
 But a different sight suddenly met my vision one 
 that caused me to step aside and hide myself for a 
 minute in the shade of a clump of trees. Two people 
 were walking together, a man and a woman. They
 
 AT BOULOGNE-SUR-MEB. 205 
 
 passed within twenty feet of me, Blanche Brixton 
 and Maurice Fantelli ! Their faces were close 
 together, like thoss of people who do not mean to 
 be overheard. The few words that reached my ears 
 showed me that the woman was speaking French 
 with a very broken accent, and that her companion 
 was having difficulty in comprehending her. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 AT BOULOGNE-SUR-MER. 
 
 Conceive anything you please, it cannot be too 
 strong to express my surprise that two persons, who 
 had both given me to understand that a cordial dis- 
 like kept them apart, should be walking in the most 
 friendly manner along that unfrequented path at ten 
 o'clock at night ! And Miss Brixton, unacquainted 
 so far as I knew with any foreign tongue, was trying 
 to converse in French, proving that she was as 
 anxious as he for the meeting. 
 
 Most of us have nerves that may be touched un- 
 pleasantly by the discovery that we have been out- 
 witted. My head grew hot as I thought of the sit- 
 uation. I would have given a good deal to be 
 able to follow those people without discovery, and 
 learn what they were saying. As they had passed 
 into the open this was, of course, impossible. The 
 moon was bright enough to disclose any object 
 not hidden by a tree or a building. I could only
 
 206 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Stay till they had gone completely out of sight, and 
 then return to my hotel and await developments. 
 
 These people were evidently too deep for my slen- 
 der capacity as a detective. All I had discovered 
 was the result of chance, not ability. So disgusted 
 was I that I sank on the ground under the trees, and 
 gave myself up to my thoughts. 
 
 Within a few minutes, however, I heard low voices, 
 and peering through the shrubbery I saw my 
 friends if such I could now call them returning. 
 They had, apparently, little fear of being discovered, 
 for the hour was late and there were few strollers 
 but themselves on that side of the height. They 
 walked very slowly, and every few moments stopped 
 for a second or two. Miss Brixton's French was so 
 imperfect that Maurice, with all his politeness, was 
 obliged frequently to confess that he could not make 
 it out. One of their stops was near enough to where 
 I lay for me to hear a part of the conversation. 
 
 "I cannot you believe," was what Miss Brixton 
 V?ui saying, to translate her French into anything 
 *>< its English equivalent. " I saw never anyorte 
 who looked like priest. I not French then spoke. 
 That could not be good law. I have not anvthin 
 understand." 
 
 "But I am sure," responded the mellifluous tones 
 of Fantelli. " It was no priest, in that you are 
 right ; but the mayor of the place, which is accord- 
 ing to our custom. He is there still, I presume ; 
 you could go and see." 
 
 Miss Brixton shook her head decidedly, like one 
 who is unwilling to be convinced. 
 
 " Why have you learned French ?" asked Maurice, 
 as they began to move on.
 
 AT BOULOGXE-SCR-MER. 207 
 
 " To with Wallace talk after," she answered. " He 
 must the language learn of his father." 
 
 "But he has no father, according to your belief," 
 replied the other. " If you call him Vallees Brees- 
 ton and tell him he is French he will ask you many 
 questions." 
 
 " No ; I him will explain " 
 
 They had gone too far for me to follow their con- 
 versation at that time, and I rose to my feet, more 
 puzzled than ever. Miss Brixton had told Maurice 
 that she had seen no one who resembled a priest, 
 and he had said it was no priest, but a mayor. 
 That meant nothing to me. The mayor, he had 
 added, was still there. There ? Where ? At some 
 place in Algeria, nD doubt. She "could go to see 
 him." Would she go ? What would she do if she 
 did go ? The key to the entire mystery might be in 
 that question. 
 
 After I reached my apartments I was surprised by 
 a card from Miss Brixton's maid, who informed me 
 that her mistress wished very much to see me for a 
 few moments. I followed her to the salon occupied 
 by my countrywoman and found the latter in a state 
 of decided perturbation. 
 
 " I am in much trouble," she said, as soon as I had 
 entered the room and closed the door. "There is 
 no one else on this side of the ocean that I can call 
 to my aid, and yet I fear you must by this time 
 think me an intolerable nuisance." 
 
 I responded with due politeness, and waited for 
 her to proceed. 
 
 " It may be necessary for me to make a journey to 
 Algeria," she said, speaking hesitatingly. " Not at 
 this season, of course, for it would endanger tfe
 
 208 > OUT OF WEDLOCK.. 
 
 health of my boy, and I could not think of going 
 without him. I want to ask if you intend to stay 
 another winter abroad, and it looks like a great 
 request, doesn't 5t ? if you could make it convenient 
 to spend a month or so in Africa with me, say in 
 October." 
 
 I looked into the anxious face and marked the 
 movements of the nervous hands. 
 
 " How much easier all this would be," I said, " if 
 you would confide your entire story to me. How 
 can you tell that I might not be able to give advice 
 that would be of value. At present both of us are 
 groping in the dark." 
 
 She shook her head doubtfully, and reddened in 
 the charming way she had. 
 
 " I am so sorry," she said. " I would trust you 
 sooner than anyone else, but I cannot tell my secret 
 yet to any man." 
 
 " Not even to Monsieur Fantelli ?" I asked, stung 
 to the quick. 
 
 Miss Brixton's expression showed that the shot 
 had struck home. She turned pale, recoiled a little, 
 and then leaning forward, put both her hands on my 
 arm. 
 
 " What did you mean by that ?" she asked, breath-. 
 lessly. 
 
 "Only what I said. If anyone is to go to Algeria 
 with you, it ought to be he. He knows the country 
 he knows more than he has told me of the adven- 
 ture that you had there. He is, so far as I am aware, 
 free from engagements of any kind. Why not ask 
 him r 
 
 She eyed me with curiosity and an intense desire 
 to learn what I knew.
 
 AT BOULOGNE-STJB-MEB. 209 
 
 * I could not ask him," she replied. " And if you 
 are as wise as you like to have me believe, you will 
 understand the reason." 
 
 " And yet," I answered, " you can walk about town 
 with him under the moonlight." 
 
 "Walk with him !" she exclaimed, with such well 
 counterfeited astonishment, that nothing but my own 
 eyesight would have made me doubt her. 
 
 ** Certainly," I said. " I was not spying upon you, 
 but I saw you, distinctly. Anyone could have seen 
 you, for you made no attempt at concealment. I 
 shall not admit that I am mistaken, for I know you 
 very well, and I also know Maurice." 
 
 The lady had risen and seemed prepared at first to 
 utter a vehement denial of my statement ; but when 
 [ closed she threw herself again into her chair, and 
 attempted to regain her composure. 
 
 " So you saw me with Maurice ?" she said. " Yes, 
 I had something of importance to tell him, and, as 
 you say, we did not attempt to conceal ourselves. I 
 learned that he was going away, and I did not wish 
 to lose the opportunity." 
 
 I said again that I thought Monsieur Maurice 
 would be her best escort to Algeria. As for myself, 
 I wanted to do anything reasonable in the way of 
 obliging her, but I was not ambitious to be served in 
 the way I had been. If I was to accompany her I 
 must be put in possession of the reason why she pro- 
 posed making the journey. 
 
 "And Maurice told you he was going away?" I 
 added. " He is much more confidential with you 
 than with me, for he mentioned nothing about * 
 when I saw him this afternoon at the Casino."
 
 210 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 "Yes," she answered, simply. " His brother went 
 yesterday and he will go to-morrow." 
 
 " Where are they going ?" 
 
 " He did not say." 
 
 We talked in this manner for fully an hour, with 
 little result, so far as my learning anything was con- 
 cerned. The upshot of the discussion was that I 
 agreed to sleep over the matter, and let her know my 
 answer on the following morning. 
 
 "You will go I know you will," she said to me, 
 in her sweetest manner. " It will only take a few 
 weeks of your time and then I shall return to 
 America with a more peaceful mind, I hope. Before 
 you retire now, I want to show you the prettiest 
 sight you ever- saw. In a minute I will be with 
 you." 
 
 Much wondering what she intended to exhibit, I 
 waited while she stepped into an adjoining room. 
 Presently she came to the door and beckoned me 
 with a motion that enjoined quietness. I soon saw 
 the object of her solicitude. In a small bed, by the 
 side of her own larger one, lay Master Wallace, in 
 the loveliest of childhood's slumbers. 
 
 " He is mine mine alone !" said the mother, 
 earnestly, when she had closed the door. " No one 
 else can claim him, no one ! I will never divide his 
 ownership !" 
 
 The next morning after debating the matter as 
 fully as I could, I told Miss Brixton I would go to 
 Algeria with her, if she was of the same mind when 
 October came. In the meantime I would resume 
 my travels, as I intended to go to Norway and other 
 points during the summer. If she wished to com-
 
 EVERYTHING UP TO DATE. 2H 
 
 municate with me she had only to send anything in 
 care of Hottinguer, the banker. 
 
 She thanked me effusively, with a thousand kind 
 expressions, and the following day I took my leave 
 of Boulogne, sleeping the next night at Brussels. 
 
 MR. MEDFORD AGAIN. 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 EVERYTHING UP TO DATE. 
 
 Mr. Medford paused at last, with the sentence 
 quoted at the close of the preceding chapter. 
 Although he had taken the greater part of the after- 
 noon and evening in his recital he had not tired me 
 in the least. 
 
 * Is that the end ?" I asked. 
 
 "For the present, yes. After I have been to 
 Algeria with her there ought to be something more 
 to tell." 
 
 " And you will go ?" 
 
 " If I live. I have promised, you remember. What 
 do you think of my story ?" 
 
 I answered that it was most interesting. 
 
 " Can you interpret the riddle ?" he inquired. 
 * Hardly. If it was a piece of fiction I would 
 hazard it, but real life is always playing unexpected 
 tricks "
 
 212 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Mr. Medford bowed to show that he agreed with 
 this statement. 
 
 " You see how it is," he remarked. " M. Desmou- 
 lins is undoubtedly the father of this child. Not- 
 withstanding the fact that he was wounded by 
 Maurice Fantelli, the latter is still his staunch friend 
 and would do anything to serve him. Now, what 
 does M. Desmoulins want? Does he wish to claim 
 his son or does he not? It is evident that Miss 
 Brixton believed him dead until she received my 
 letter informing her to the contrary. I have made 
 every effort to find him, but without avail. Advices 
 from Dijon only showed that he is travelling. Miss 
 Brixtcwi seems to place reliance on Maurice, as shown 
 by her confidential talk with him the night I saw 
 them together at Boulogne. And yet she would not 
 let him accompany her to Algeria, even acting 
 astounded at my proposition to that effect. If I 
 could get an hour's talk with Louis Desmoulins I 
 would find out something worth knowing." 
 
 As he seemed to expect me to say something I 
 tried to oblige him, though I should have pre- 
 ferred to sit an hour in silence, the better to com- 
 pare the various bits of evidence that presented 
 themselves in the case. 
 
 " Is there no possibility,** I said, " that someone 
 else is this child's father for instance, Maurice f 
 
 Mr. Medford stared at me strangely, 
 
 ** I don't see how you can think that,** be replied. 
 14 He tells me he has a wife." 
 
 I elevated my brows, and responded 
 
 " Well ?'* 
 
 My companion looked at me with a puzzled face. 
 
 a Men have been known to break their vows," !
 
 EVERYTHING UP TO DATE. 213 
 
 said. " Besides, Miss Brixton, you say, showed 
 great astonishment when you told her Maurice was 
 married." 
 
 "But he never was shot!" exclaimed Medford. 
 "That is a vital thing in this affair. Desmoulins is 
 living, but he was shot, and it was supposed he 
 would die. Maurice, so far as I can learn, has had 
 no bullet wound." 
 
 I had to admit that this was a point worth con- 
 sidering. Then I tried to sum up the facts that 
 appeared to be undisputed. Somebody, who had 
 been in Algeria in the winter of a certain year, was 
 Wallace Brixton's father ; that Somebody had been 
 shot, and had been expected to die ; the shooting 
 *iad been performed by Maurice Fantelli, under a 
 sudden impulse caused by an insult which Some- 
 body had given to a lady whose initials were " B. 
 B." and who was without doubt Miss Blanche Brix- 
 ton ; for this act Maurice had been sentenced to 
 imprisonment, and after serving part of his term had 
 been pardoned, largely on account of the efforts of 
 the Somebody he had shot. Ergo, the Somebody 
 must be Louis Desmoulins. Yes, I was obliged to 
 admit that it looked like a clear case. 
 
 *' But why is Blanche going to Africa?" I inquired. 
 ** That is the question at present.** 
 
 "Yes,** said Medford, "that is the question. 
 Before I leave there with net I will have something 
 more definite than a theory, too." 
 
 " She spoke about a priest, and about a mayor,** 
 I remarked, reflectively. 
 
 "And what does that signify ?** asked Medford. 
 
 I acknowledged that I did not know. Both of 
 those functionaries had a considerable place in the
 
 214 OUT OP WEDLOCK. 
 
 arrangement of most Frencli lives and were to be 
 found In Algeria as well as elsewhere. But what 
 connection they had with Miss Brixton I could not 
 guess. 
 
 " The best thing for me," I added, with a smile, 
 " in relation to this story, is to wait, as we do for 
 other serials, until it 'comes out.' Speculations are 
 rather useless." 
 
 " You wouldn't like to join the party and go to 
 Algeria with us, would you ?" asked Medford, tenta- 
 tively. 
 
 " I would," said I, " but for one thing. I was there 
 some time ago and explored the country quite 
 thoroughly. I have planned to spend next winter 
 in the West Indies. You are very kind to suggest 
 my going, however, and I am infinitely obliged." 
 
 " It isn't altogether kindness that prompts me," 
 said Medford, with the manner of one who makes a 
 confession. " I want to find out the mystery in this 
 affair, and I fear I shall never do it alone." 
 
 I responded that I believed he would, and added 
 that nothing would give me greater pleasure than to 
 meet him when he had done so. 
 
 " It would be worth putting into a book, wouldn't 
 it ?" he asked. 
 
 " Decidedly," I answered with enthusiasm. 
 
 The next day I parted from Mr. Medford, as jr 
 paths lay in opposite directions. It was nearly a 
 year before we met again, and then it was on 
 American soil, at the Sinclair House in Bethlehem, 
 X. H
 
 MEETING MOKSIBUR MARTIKE. 215 
 
 "I can finish that story now," he exclaimed with 
 a beaming smile, as he pressed my hand with the 
 ioy of our renewed meeting. 
 
 " Finish it, then," I said. 
 
 And he finished it. 
 
 MISS BRIXTON'S DILEMMA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 MEETING MONSIEUR MARTINE. 
 
 It was about the middle of October [said Medford, 
 when we had taken seats in an open carriage and 
 were being driven toward the Profile], that Miss 
 Brixton, Master Wallace and myself, with a couple 
 of maids and a courier, started for Africa. Before 
 we began the journey I had a long talk with Blanche, 
 in which I endeavored to persuade her to give me at 
 least an inkling of the purpose she had in view, but 
 without effect. Even a hint that I should decline to 
 accompany her after all did not swerve her from her 
 reticent attitude. 
 
 "Go with me," she pleaded, "and as soon as I can 
 possibly do so, I will tell you all about it. At 
 present I really cannot." 
 
 Upon reaching Algiers we went to the Hotel de 
 1'Oasis, where we were pleasantly greeted by the 
 proprietor, by Victor, and the other members of the
 
 216 om OF WEDLOGK. 
 
 establishment who remembered us. I soon dis- 
 covered that something of a secret nature was going 
 on, to which the new courier was a party, and my 
 pride was slightly wounded by the reflection that 
 Miss Brixton was willing to trust this fellow with 
 matters which she did not wish me to know. They 
 had frequent consultations that lasted for hours. 
 Gustave would go away for one or two days at a 
 time, and on his return find his mistress ready to see 
 him, no matter what other engagement she might at 
 the moment have on hand. I had occasion, once or 
 twice, myself, to make way for him, and I have no 
 hesitation in saying that I did not particularly like it. 
 
 Nearly a month was passed in this manner, and I 
 began to find even beautiful Algiers very dull. I 
 believe Heaven itself would grow wearisome if I had 
 to wait within its golden streets for something to 
 happen of whose nature and date I had no reasonable 
 conception. I wandered about the streets, through 
 the native quarter, over the Mustapha Hill, and into 
 the suburbs all of which I had thoroughly explored 
 on my previous visit until I grew as tired of it as I 
 could well be. Then, when things were becoming 
 almost unbearable, I met a very interesting stranger. 
 
 It was in the office of Cook & Son, that gigantic 
 institution which one finds in every corner of the 
 habitable globe. It was in the down-town office of 
 the Cooks, not in the one near the Governor- 
 general's palace for there are two stations of the 
 company in Algiers. I was making arrangements 
 for a carnage in which to pay a visit to the monas- 
 tery of La Trappe, a dozen miles or so inland, wkere 
 I had spent a pleasant day the previous winter. A 
 young Frenchman entered the room and inquired
 
 JCEETING MONSIEUR MARTINE. 217 
 
 about the Trappist monastery just as I had finished 
 my arrangements and was about to leave. He 
 seemed rather disappointed to find that there was no 
 regular excursion carriage to the place, and remarked 
 casually that he did not like the idea of going alone. 
 
 "I thought you might be getting up a party," he 
 explained. " It is tiresome taking that kind of a 
 journey all by oneself." 
 
 His words expressed so well the thought that had 
 been in my own mind that I looked at him with 
 interest. The next minute I decided to take advan- 
 tage of that camaraderie that prevails among fellow- 
 travellers, and invite him to share my equipage. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, monsieur," I said, " but I 
 am going to take the same trip to-morrow and I 
 shall be more than pleased if you will honor me 
 with your company." 
 
 The Frenchman hesitated, eyeing me with some 
 surprise. 
 
 " You are extremely kind," he replied. " As I was 
 saying, I dislike these lonely journeys. Are you 
 is there anyone else to go with you ?" 
 
 " No," I said. " Unless you accept, I shall be 
 entirely alone." 
 
 " Then," he answered, as if relieved, " I shall do 
 so with great pleasure." 
 
 Remarking to the agent that he would not need a 
 carriage of his own now, the gentleman walked out 
 of the office with me. Our conversation, begun so 
 abruptly, continued as we strolled together along 
 the line of the sea-coast, in an opposite direction 
 from my hotel. When I tendered him my card he 
 searched in his pocket for his own card-case ; and 
 then, finding that he had left it in his room, informed
 
 218 OUT OP WEDLOCK. 
 
 me that his name was Jules Marline and that he was 
 touring the country for pleasure, like myself. I 
 learned in the course of the next hour that this was 
 his second visit to Africa, and that he had also vis 
 ited the monastery on a previous occasion. 
 
 " It is worth seeing a second time," he remarked, 
 earnestly. "I think it one of the most entertaining 
 places I ever saw. The last time I was there an 
 event occurred that I shall not soon forget." 
 
 I looked the inquiry I did not need to put into 
 words. 
 
 " It was a strange affair," continued M. Marline. 
 " I was with a party of sight-seers, among whom was 
 a very beauliful young lady of your counlry. Bui 
 perhaps I should bore you with Ihe history." 
 
 I had caught so eagerly at the few words already 
 uttered that I had difficulty in repressing my anx, 
 if ty to hear the rest, lest I should excite his suspic- 
 ions. I replied as calmly as possible that I should 
 like very much to hear of Ihe incidenl, as anylhing 
 oul of the common possessed a peculiar charm for 
 me. 
 
 "Well," said M. Marline, afler a moment 's pause 
 " it was this way : 
 
 "There was in the party a gentleman who had, it 
 seemed, conceived a violent passion for the young 
 lady, which she did not wholly return. He had 
 formed the very unique plan of gelling one of the 
 monks lo marry them, without her knowledge." 
 
 I uttered an exclamation of surprise. 
 
 " Withoul her knowledge !" I repealed. 
 
 "Yes. It was this way:" (M. Marline had, like 
 many olher men, a warm altachment lo a favorile 
 phrase.) " The young lady understood very Hide, if
 
 MEETING MONSIEUR MARTINE. 21> 
 
 %ny French, which was the native tongue of her ad- 
 ttiirer. He believed, in his ardor and you know 
 there is nothing so blind as a lover that if he could 
 get a ceremony performed, he could persuade her to 
 abide by it, and become his wife in reality." 
 
 I interrupted to ask what had taken place up to 
 that time ; whether the gentleman had told the lady 
 of his love and been rejected, or whether he had 
 held his secret locked in his own bosom. 
 
 "It was this way," replied M. Martine : "The 
 gentleman had been presented to the lady and had 
 made known his passion. She had answered by the 
 very strange statement that she was wholly averse 
 to marriage and would not listen to a proposal of 
 that kind from anyone. At first he thought this a 
 mere pretext, a more courteous way of saying fare- 
 well than by a direct rejection. Being in love to an 
 extreme degree he was not willing to surrender his 
 hopes without doing his utmost to bring them to 
 full fruition. He, therefore, as is customary in such 
 cases, made liberal presents to the lady's maid and 
 courier, seeking to learn through them the real con- 
 dition of her mind. In spite of his generosity, both 
 of them persisted that mademoiselle had told him 
 the truth. They said she was one of those women 
 who have a positive aversion for matrimony, and 
 being possessed of an ample fortune had determined 
 to enjoy it alone, untrammelled by the restrictions 
 of the wedded state. Do what he could, they stuck 
 to one story, the same in effect that the lady had 
 given him. Then it was that he resolved to try the 
 plan I have mentioned, believing she might relent 
 when he had a document in his hand averring that 
 she was already his wife."
 
 220 OUT or WEDLOCK. 
 
 It was an odd history, truly, and I showed the 
 interest I felt so strongly that my companion looked 
 gratified. One of the pleasantest things about any 
 recital is to secure a thoroughly attentive listener. 
 
 "And did the scheme succeed ?" I asked. Though 
 feeling certain that Miss Brixton was the lady 
 implicated, I need not say the question was super- 
 fluous. 
 
 "No," said M. Marline, and I thought he spoke 
 regretfully. " It was this way : The idea was to 
 arrange the matter with one of the oldest monks. 
 The lady was told that she would see an exposition 
 of the ritualistic work of the order. The way was 
 led into the chapel and the services proceeded, to the 
 evident entertainment of mademoiselle. All was 
 apparently going well. There were no persons pres- 
 ent, except the three I have mentioned, the lady's 
 maid and myself." 
 
 I interrupted to remark that my informant had 
 evidently been let into the secret of his friend's 
 purpose. 
 
 " Yes," he said. " It was this way : I sympathized 
 fully with his ardent desire to possess that beautiful 
 creature. His intentions were in the highest degree 
 honorable, though his method of attaining the 
 desired result could only be justified by the proverb, 
 * All's fair in love and war.' My friend, be it under- 
 stood, belonged to both those branches, holding a 
 commission in the service of the Republic, and being 
 at the time quartered near here with his regiment. 
 I reasoned that there would be no harm in the affair, 
 for even if the monk performed a religious ceremony 
 which the lady accepted, it would, according to 
 French law, require still another ceremony a civil
 
 MEETING MONSIEUR MABTINE. 221 
 
 one to make it legally binding. It was merely a 
 bit of strategy to bring the lady to a sensible view 
 of her natural destiny, and it would have been suc- 
 cessful but for the fact that Father Ambrose had his 
 suspicions aroused and refused to finish the work he 
 had begun." 
 
 As it was nearing the dinner hour, I suggested 
 that we retrace our steps, which we did, walking 
 slowly. 
 
 ''You never saw anything progress better up to 
 the critical moment," continued my new acquaint- 
 ance. "The lady was engrossed in the mysticism 
 of the service she did not in the least comprehend. 
 Her maid bribed in advance gave the most plaus- 
 ible explanations to each part of the ceremony, and 
 the lady answered when told, without question. 7. 
 don't know what made it enter the head of that con- 
 founded monk that anything was wrong, but he 
 certainly got that impression, and before he reached 
 the more important words he called a young assist- 
 ant and despatched him for a member of the frater- 
 nity who understood English. Realizing that his 
 efforts were destined to be foiled, my friend ad- 
 mitted his fault to the friar, who upraided him 
 without stint, and in such a tone that the lady 
 became alarmed. The carriages in which we had 
 come were sought without waiting for the arrival 
 of the other monk, and we left the monastery dis- 
 appointed incur scheme, but luckily without having 
 the least suspicion aroused in the mind of the one 
 most concerned." 
 
 Was it Miss Brixton ? I wanted desperately to 
 know, but I did not intend to repeat the error, as I 
 had always considered it, which I perpetrated with
 
 222 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Maurice Fantelli. It was for me to learn all I cou.d 
 from this stranger, and give him as little as possible 
 in return. As coolly as possible I asked if this was 
 the end of his remarkable story. 
 
 " No," he answered, with something like a sigh. 
 "It is, however, all I feel justified in telling at 
 present. Is it not the most peculiar account you 
 ever heard ?" 
 
 I admitted that it was indeed strange, but said I 
 could match it, if I chose, with one equally out of 
 the common. My only trouble was that I doubted 
 my right to reveal what was the secret of another. 
 
 " I am sorry you are under that restriction," he 
 said. ' c Is the matter one that came under your own 
 observation ?" 
 
 " It was told to me," I replied, evasively. " There 
 was also a young lady in it, and a French officer ; 
 yes, an officer stationed in Algeria." 
 
 M. Marline looked at me quickly. His eyes 
 dilated and his cheeks grew red. 
 
 " You mean more than your words imply," he 
 said. " If you have any knowledge of the lady of 
 whom I have been speaking, monsieur, I trust yu 
 will confide it to me." 
 
 He had been too rapid for my plan. Now that 
 the point was raised, I could do no less than try to 
 meet it. 
 
 " How can I tell whether it be the same lady," I 
 asked, " when you have not even given me her 
 name ?" 
 
 Monsieur Martine colored still more. 
 
 *' You can understand that that might be impossi- 
 ble," he said. 
 
 " Hardly."
 
 M METING MONSIEUR MAETINE. 223 
 
 "One cannot use the name of a lady in such a case 
 without her consent." 
 
 " Then," I said, " how shall we proceed to decide 
 if it be the same one ?" 
 
 " Ah !" he exclaimed. "It is indeed a difficulty. 
 But have you told me all you can ? The lady you 
 speak of had some relations with a French officer 
 stationed hereabouts. When was this ?" 
 
 " About three years ago." 
 
 I could feel the almost imperceptible start that 
 greeted my reply. 
 
 " Can you tell me where this lady is at the present 
 time?" he asked with suppressed eagerness. 
 
 I smiled at the question. 
 
 " I have no right to do so without her consent,** I 
 Said, using his own expression. 
 
 He bowed abstractedly, admitting the truth of my 
 observation by his manner. 
 
 "You will perhaps tell whether you have ever met 
 her ?" he asked, his eagerness returning. 
 
 " I have no reason to deny that I have." 
 
 " Very long ago ?" 
 
 " Some time after the Algerian episode," I an- 
 swered. 
 
 " And was she well in health ?" 
 
 44 Remarkably so." 
 
 Monsieur Martine seemed uneasy at the sharp 
 looks with which I regarded him. 
 
 " You will comprehend the reason of my inquiries,** 
 he said, " when I tell you that I expect to meet my 
 friend, the officer, soon, and I know he will be most 
 anxious." 
 
 This was news indeed.
 
 224 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 " You expect to return to France ?" I said, inter 
 relatively. 
 
 " Before a great while." 
 
 " You will be more lucky than other people if you 
 ind your friend," I could not help saying. " He has 
 not been at Dijon for many months." 
 
 M. Martine opened his. eyes wider. 
 
 " Why should you think he would be at Dijon ?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " Because it is the home of his family. While I 
 cannot discuss the lady in this case beyond a certain 
 point, there is no reason why we should hide the 
 name of the gentleman. I trust if you have the pres- 
 ent address of M. Desmoulins, you will give it to me. 
 as I have most important business which I would 
 be glad to transactwith him." 
 
 My companion had stopped on the sidewalk, and 
 was regarding me with an expression too peculiar to 
 translate. 
 
 "M. Desmoulins !" he exclaimed. " M. Louis Des- 
 moulins?" 
 
 "Precisely. The lady I speak of had relations of 
 the most important character with that gentleman. 
 I have tried my best to find him during the summer 
 that is just past. I have a number of questions to 
 ask him that I think he will not refuse to answer." 
 
 Monsieur Martine was unaccountably agitated. 
 
 " Let me tell you," he said, icily, " that the friend 
 to whom I referred was not M. Desmoulins. When you 
 say Mademoiselle " 
 
 "Mile. B " I interrupted. "We will call he* 
 Mile. B." 
 
 He caught his breath. 
 
 We will call her Miss Brixton," he corrected
 
 MEETING MONSIEUR MARTINS. 225 
 
 *Now, when you say that she had 'relations ot an 
 Important character,' with M. Desmoulins, I wish 
 you would indicate in some manner what you 
 mean." 
 
 The attitude which M. Martine had suddenly assum- 
 ed was so different from that of a few moments be- 
 fore almost belligerent, in fact that I did not know 
 what to say. I was sorry that any controversy had 
 arisen, for I had begun to like the fellow, and had 
 contemplated the ride with him on the morrow with 
 the greatest satisfaction. I could not get very angry, 
 as I knew nothing that should cause the Frenchman's 
 change toward me, and yet I did not like the dicta- 
 torial tone he used. 
 
 "There is a misunderstanding," I replied. " I had 
 not the slightest doubt, until a minute ago, that you 
 were talking all this time of M. Louis Desmoulins, of 
 Dijon. The lady I mean certainly had the very 
 closest friendship if the word is sufficiently strong 
 with that gentleman. It was, so far as I knew, a 
 matter of greater interest to themselves than to any- 
 one else. Being connected with her family, in a 
 financial way, I have reasons for wishing to meet 
 him. Why you excite yourself over the affair I am 
 at a loss to conceive." 
 
 My companion caught every word with breathless 
 interest. When I had finished, he drew from his 
 pocket a photograph and presented it before my 
 eyes. 
 
 " Is that the lady ?" he demanded. 
 
 It certainly was Miss Brixton. A glance at the 
 card showed that it was taken by an Algiers photog- 
 rapher, and the likeness was excellent. There was
 
 226 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 no need that I should admit as much in words, for 
 my face must have told its story. 
 
 " I shall have to bid you adieu," said M. Marline, 
 grimly, putting the picture back into his pocket. 
 " And as I leave for France on the boat to-morrow, 
 I shall be unable to accept your hospitality on the 
 way to La Trappe." 
 
 He looked so dark, and was so evidently affected 
 by some concealed emotion, that I viewed him with 
 genuine concern. But I had so little idea what was 
 the matter that I could say nothing to alter his 
 determination. 
 
 " My friend," pursued M. Marline, in a cold, set 
 voice, " will have business to transact with M. Desmou- 
 lins of more importance than yours can possibly be. 
 Unless I misapprehend the probabilities, the gentle- 
 man from Dijon will be in no condition to see you 
 after my friend has done with him." 
 
 Turning on his heel, with a lift of the hat, Mon- 
 sieur Marline made his adieux. I was too astonished 
 to follow him or to utter another word. 
 
 It was fully fifteen minutes later that I thoroughly 
 comprehended what his wild expressions probably 
 meant. 
 
 Louis Desmoulins had mortally offended an 
 unknown admirer of Miss Brixlon's and was likely 
 to pay for the affront with his life 1
 
 A VISIT TO A MONASTERY. 227 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A VISIT TO A MONASTERY. 
 
 I am sometimes a little slow in coming to a de- 
 cision, but when made it is not long in being 
 executed. The boats that ply between Algiers and 
 Marseilles, the trains that go from thence to Dijon, 
 are of reasonable swiftness ; but there is one thing 
 that travels much faster than either the telegraph. 
 
 If M. Martine was determined to send his friend 
 to Dijon, with the intention of drawing M. Desmou- 
 lins into mortal combat I did not for an instant 
 accuse him of a more sinister purpose there was 
 but one manner in which I could prevent a collision. 
 I must warn Desmoulins. In what manner? 
 Clearly in a way that would not leave him to face 
 the charge of cowardice. I could not wire him of 
 the truth, because, however unwillingly, he would 
 have to wait and meet his enemy. I must invent a 
 plan that would take him away from Dijon before 
 the friend of Monsieur Martine arrived there. 
 
 There are times when several birds may as well 
 be killed with one stone as with more. If Desmou- 
 lins was at Dijon, no one wanted to see him more 
 than I. If he could be induced to come to Algiers I 
 might accomplish the double result of asking the 
 questions I had waited for so long and putting him 
 out of the reach, for the present, of Marline's friend. 
 If he was not at Dijon, my telegram would not
 
 228 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 reach him, but neither would his angry pursuer. It 
 was worth trying. 
 
 After some hours of study I evolved the following 
 despatch : 
 
 " Monsieur le Colonel Louis Desmoulins Dijon. A 
 matter involving your highest honor demands your pres- 
 ence instantly at Algiers. Come, without a second's 
 delay. MEDFORD, Hotel de 1'Oasis." 
 
 Proceeding to the post-office, from which ail 
 telegrams are sent in Algeria, as in most European 
 countries, I copied this despatch on a blank that was 
 handed me. Then, drawing out my purse, I awaited 
 the announcement of the sum to be paid, jingling 
 several louis in my hand. I knew that the telegram 
 would have to be cabled five hundred miles under the 
 Mediterranean, and then repeated and sent five hun- 
 dred miles more to its destination. Familiarity with 
 American rates, and the prices charged for use of 
 the Atlantic cables, had made me believe that my 
 message would cost eight or ten dollars. Judge of 
 my surprise, then, when I was informed that the 
 entire charge would be fifty-two cents ! 
 
 " The rate is a cent a word in Algeria or France, 
 you know," said the clerk, when I repeated the 
 figures in an astonished tone. " But for the cable 
 the charge is also a cent, which makes the rate 
 double." 
 
 " Cheap enough, if it accomplishes the result 
 hoped for !" was my mental comment, as I turned 
 away. 
 
 I found Miss Brixto 1 * ready to dine and ac- 
 tompanied her to the pleasant salle-d.-manger, which 
 was nearly filled when we arrived. Among the
 
 A VISIT TO A MONASTERY. 229 
 
 guests was an English actress, who a short time ago 
 made a fortune by playing in the United States, and 
 who at one time bore the reputation of being the 
 handsomest lady in the world. She was ac- 
 companied by the grandson of one of the most 
 famous English statesmen who ever lived, a fine- 
 looking youth, some ten years her junior, and they 
 were the observed of all observers. I whispered to 
 Miss Brixton who they were, and immediately 
 regretted having done so. For she replied coldly 
 that she had no interest in such people, and did not 
 care to look at them. Although they remained the 
 next two days at the hotel with us, Blanche never 
 saw their faces, the only woman there, I am sure, 
 who could say as much. 
 
 I could not help thinking how much greater was 
 the fault of the American lady, judged by the 
 unpitying standard of the world, than that of the 
 English one. The latter had at least no living evi- 
 dence of her frailty, paraded in the face of all who 
 cared to know. I had taken pains, on my own 
 account, to give the impression to Victor and the 
 Delrieus that Wallace was an adopted child, for 
 otherwise we should have been watched as intently, 
 if not more so, than the other party. 
 
 Miss Brixton realized what was passing in my 
 mind, and when we had gone to her salon to take 
 the coffee that was usually served to us there, she 
 began to talk of the matter. 
 
 "You have never changed your opinion about me, I 
 see," was the way she began. " I am the same 
 foolish, wicked girl to you still." 
 
 I asked her why she said that. 
 
 " Don't you think I can read your mind ?'* she
 
 230 >UT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 inquired. " You considered it inconsistent of me to 
 
 speak so harshly of Mrs. , xvhen I, myself, have 
 
 ignored the opinion of Society. Let me beg you to 
 tell me candidly can you see no difference?" 
 
 I responded to this direct question that I had 
 never debated the matter of her conduct, and did 
 not intend to begin now. 
 
 "Very well," she said, smiling gravely at my dis- 
 comfiture, which was evident. " I must defend 
 myself without your aid. That woman you saw in 
 the dining-room, if rumor is to be believed, married 
 an English gentleman, and then left him in order to 
 gratify her love for flattery and luxurious living. 
 She is noted chiefly for her numerous lovers, and the 
 fortune she has accumulated out of their gifts. That 
 she has borne no child is presumptive evidence 
 against her of a much more damaging character. 
 And yet you think me as bad as she, because, to 
 meet the mother-craving in my heart, I stepped 
 aside just once !" 
 
 Her voice was trembling as she reached the con- 
 cluding sentence, and her eyes were moist with tears. 
 "We shall gain nothing by this line of conversa- 
 tion," I said, " which must necessarily be one-sided. 
 Let us return to something of more moment. I 
 came here with you at your earnest solicitation. We 
 have been here nearly three weeks, and I cannot see 
 that I have been of the slightest use. By our under- 
 standing I was to remain a month, and I must remind 
 you that the time will soon be ended." 
 
 " I am sorry you find it so dull," she replied, " but 
 t know it must seem so, as you spent so long a time 
 here before. The matter I am investigating has 
 taken me a little longer than I supposed it would,
 
 A VISIT TO A MONASTERY. 231 
 
 but I think it will be finished very soon now. Your 
 presence is of immense moral value, and even if you 
 should be compelled to stay a few days beyond the 
 time I spoke of, I hope you will not be too much 
 incommoded to oblige me." 
 
 I asked her if she was still unable to confide in me 
 to any extent whatever. 
 
 " At present, yes," she answered, sadly. " But I 
 am liable at any moment to need your advice, in 
 which case I may be compelled to tell you every- 
 thing." 
 
 I mentioned the intention I had of going to La 
 Trappe on the following day, and noticed the start 
 she gave at the name. 
 
 " Have you never been there?" she asked. 
 
 "Oh, yes. I have been everywhere in this neigh- 
 borhood ; but one must do something to pass the 
 time. Would you like to go ?" I added, as the 
 thought struck me. 
 
 "I? No, I think not." 
 
 "You have been there ?" 
 
 "Yes," she responded, reminiscently. "They are 
 a set of nice old men, but I would not care to see 
 them twice. Besides, Wallace would find the jour- 
 ney tedious, and I could not think of leaving him." 
 
 I had no desire to excite her suspicions and I said no 
 more about the monastery. In the morning I made 
 an early start, as it was rather warm in the middle of 
 the day, being early in November. Upon arriving I 
 inquired for Father Ambrose and put myself under 
 his guidance. He had not seen me on my previous 
 visit, and he went through the extensive farm which 
 the monks cultivate, showing me the cattle, the 
 wine-presses, the store-houses and other evidences
 
 232 OUT or WEDLOCK. 
 
 of prosperity which these strange recluses possess 
 When we reached the chapel I drew his attention 
 gradually to the matter which M. Marline had confided 
 to me, and found that he remembered it very well. 
 
 " It was a narrow escape," he said. " If my wits 
 had not come to me just as they did I should have 
 pronounced the couple man and wife. Their flight 
 proves that I guessed correctly. The man did not 
 dare await the coming of a brother who spoke 
 English." 
 
 " A friend of the gentleman told me all about it," 
 I explained. " He says the lover was so infatuated 
 with the lady that he took this means to put a moral 
 pressure upon her, intending later to have the civil 
 ceremony in Algiers. She supposed you were simply 
 giving them your blessing." 
 
 The monk crossed himself devoutly. 
 
 "The devil is fruitful of expedients to mislead the 
 faithful," he said. "The lady was a very beautiful 
 creature, one whose worth was evident to any who 
 saw her countenance. I trust she has escaped the 
 machinations of such a wicked man." 
 
 Something impelled me to relate a little of the 
 subsequent history of Miss Brixton to this hermit. 
 I wanted to know what he would say when I told 
 him all I knew. 
 
 " She has very peculiar ideas, good father," I 
 responded. " For instance, she believes that mar- 
 riage is not a necessary precursor of motherhood." 
 
 "St. Denis preserve us !" cried the priest. 
 
 " Yes," I continued. " She is now the mother of a 
 boy two years of age, and still unwedded. Under- 
 stand, this is merely carrying out a doctrine that she
 
 A VISIT TO A MONASTERY. 283 
 
 firmly believes in not a yielding to passionate 
 instinct." 
 
 The monk crossed himself again. 
 
 "So innocent she looked !" he exclaimed. "Ah ! 
 How little one can tell by the faces of these women ! 
 One came here from Algiers, only the other day, of 
 whom the most dreadful things are said, and before 
 I knew I had remarked to one of our brothers who 
 has a talent for painting that she would make a 
 lovely Madonna !'* 
 
 The simple lunch served at the monastery was par- 
 taken of, and I rested in the shadow of its walls 
 until the sun was well on the way toward the hori- 
 zon. Before departing I purchased a number of 
 trinkets carved by the fraternity, to keep or give 
 away as souvenirs. 
 
 When I reached the Hotel de 1'Oasis, Miss Brix- 
 ton had dined, it being so late that she had ceased to 
 expect me. I soon found that she was holding an 
 audience with my rival in her temporary regard 
 the courier, Gustave, who had been absent for the 
 previous three or four days. Not caring to intrude 
 on a conversation I had reason to suppose would 
 have elements of privacy, I went out for a stroll 
 along the Boulevard de la Republique, that magni- 
 ficent way which cost, it is said, the sum of forty 
 million dollars to create. When I returned, I was 
 informed that Miss Brixton wished to see me imme- 
 diately, and I went without delay to her rooms. 
 
 " Can you leave here with us in the morning ?" 
 was the question that greeted me, as she opened the 
 door. 
 
 " For what point ?" I asked, somewhat astonished. 
 
 ** For Constantine."
 
 234 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Having heard nothing about that city in connec- 
 tion with the business on hand, I was naturally much 
 surprised. 
 
 " We shall stop for a night at Hamman-Meskou- 
 tine on Wallace's account and go on the next 
 day," explained Miss Brixton. 
 
 I could not think of anything to prevent my going 
 My baggage could be packed in fifteen minutes. 
 " Have you heard news ?" I asked. 
 "Yes," she said, and her voice lacked steadiness. 
 " But nothing you can tell me ?" 
 " Not not yet." 
 
 The beautiful eyes faltered before my gaze. 
 " After Constantine, shall I still be kept in igno 
 ranee ?" 
 
 "That will depend," she said, hesitatingly. 
 " On your whim ?" I inquired, without undue 
 politeness. 
 
 " No ! oh, no ! On circumstances that may arise. 
 Trust me a little longer, I pray. In the morning, 
 remember," she added, as I rose to go. " Get the 
 garden to rouse you, for the train goes early." 
 
 I told her there was no need of informing the g-ar- 
 fon, as I was an early riser, and would not fail to be 
 on time. But when I was about ready for break- 
 fast, on the following morning, one of the waiters 
 came to call me, saying he had been asked to do so 
 by Miss Brixton. 
 
 On the train I occupied myself with amusing Mas- 
 ter Wallace, who grew interested from time to time 
 in the cavalcades of Arabs queerly mounted, some- 
 times on camels, sometimes on donkeys and again on 
 horses, which could be seen in the highway that is to 
 be seen from the railroad. Across nearly the whole
 
 "THE PRIEST TOLD YOU?" 235 
 
 of French Africa this road is to be seen, built of 
 cracked stone, after the plan invented or applied by 
 McAdam, and as well cared for as any suburban 
 drive around Boston, New York or Chicago. 
 Through lowlands it is built up to a higher level, 
 with culverts at frequent intervals, for the quick 
 rains. Through hills it is channelled as carefully as 
 the railway itself, and even tunnels are found where 
 required. The object of all this expense is military, 
 the owners of the territory wishing to march their 
 men, or draw their cannon with expedition in case of 
 need. But the value to the country is as great as if 
 it had been constructed solely for the use of peace- 
 ful travellers. 
 
 When the boy went to sleep, I talked with Miss 
 Brixton about the territory through which we were 
 passing, and which both of us had seen before. We 
 said nothing that day in reference to her private 
 affairs. They might have escaped my mind but for 
 the silent witness to what had been the pretty child 
 lying on its pillow by its mother's side. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 " THE FREEST TOLD YOU ?" 
 
 I was glad the stop was made at Hamman-Mes- 
 koutine. In passing through this section before, I 
 had only caught a glimpse of that most remarkable 
 natural wonder, the boiling Niagara which falls thirty 
 feet over white rocks, at a temperature of 203 deg.
 
 286 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Fahrenheit. From whence comes this volume of 
 water, the thousands of gallons that flow each 
 minute, day after day the year through, and have 
 done so for tens of centuries ? Every little while 
 the watcher from below the cataract can see small 
 fish and crabs floating in the stream, showing that 
 at some point below the surface rivers of cool water 
 are precipitated into the cauldron and sent forth in 
 those scalding bubbles. The steam, not only from 
 the great fall, but from several smaller springs in the 
 vicinity, is constantly clouding the air in the neigh- 
 borhood and the effect of the whole scene is weird 
 and marvellous. The heat is so great that even at a 
 distance of seven hundred feet away one cannot 
 hold his hand in the running water. 
 
 The " hotel " was the queerest I ever saw. It 
 consisted of the owner's residence, the only part of 
 which used by the guests appeared to be the dining- 
 room and office ; with bedrooms arranged in fours 
 at some distance from the house, built in rows like 
 negro cabins in the South of America. The wild- 
 ness of the country made the appearance of these 
 bedrooms anything but assuring, for they were 
 unconnected with the main mansion by a bell or 
 other contrivance ; and to add to the strangeness of 
 the situation we could see from our windows the 
 camp-fires of wandering Kabyles, not a quarter of a 
 mile away. 
 
 Miss Brixton declared at once that she could never 
 close her eyes in such a place. She began to shut 
 her windows and arrange a barricade for her door, 
 besides ordering Gustave to sit at the entrance, 
 armed to the teeth against possible invasion. The 
 servants of the hotel laughed at her fears, saying
 
 " THE PRIEST TOLD YOU ?" 237 
 
 they had never heard of anyone being hurt by the 
 natives thereabouts or of having anything stolen. It 
 was the universal custom to leave all windows and 
 doors wide open, both day and night, no matter what 
 valuables were inside. 
 
 As the evening was warm and the rooms stifling if 
 tightly closed, I decided to follow the advice given 
 me, though I could not entirely quiet the alarm of 
 my fair companion. I had seen plenty of Kabyles 
 and liked them as a people immensely. Placing a 
 chair by my window, which was only four feet from 
 the ground, I hung my clothing upon it, with my 
 purse and watch in their usual places ; and then, 
 with window and door wide open, passed into a 
 sweet and refreshing sleep which lasted for eight 
 hours. 
 
 You can do this in Africa, mind, where the native 
 is called savage or half-civilized. But not in England 
 or the United States, in any section of them with 
 which I am acquainted. 
 
 Miss Brixton confessed, when we met at break- 
 fast, that she also slept fairly well. She did not 
 intend to close her eyes at all, so disturbed was her 
 mind at the situation, but slumber came of its own 
 accord. Gustave, who had lain on doormats before 
 that night, looked completely refreshed, and all of 
 as were ready to take the train for Constantine when 
 it arrived. 
 
 There are few places so well designed by nature 
 for a fortress as this same city of Constantine. It is 
 an inland Gibraltar, reached by an artificial bridge, 
 situated on a series of rocks, and surrounded by a 
 very deep ravine. Though there are few things of 
 great moment to the sight-seer, other than the place
 
 238 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 itself, it is well worth visiting and remaining at for 
 several days, if not more. As we approached the 
 city I began to discuss its points of interest with Miss 
 Brixton. 
 
 " You have been here, I believe ?" I said. 
 
 She nodded assent. 
 
 " At what hotel shall you stay ?" 
 
 "The Hotel de Paris. Gustave has arranged for 
 rooms. I suppose you wish to remain with the 
 party." 
 
 I said it was immaterial, and that I would do as 
 she desired. I then inquired with a slight vein of 
 irony whether my services were likely to be wanted. 
 
 " Don't annihilate me with sarcasm if I am obliged 
 to make my usual reply," she answered. "At any 
 moment, your presence may be of the first import- 
 ance. To-morrow you will be free. After that, if 
 you will be so kind as to consult with me each 
 evening " 
 
 I bowed to show that the arrangement was entirely 
 agreeable, and the subject was dropped for the 
 present. 
 
 The next morning Miss Brixton ordered a carriage 
 early and, with Gustave and her maid, drove away, 
 saying she expected to be back to lunch. It would 
 have been an easy matter to follow her, but I saw 
 no reason to play the spy at this time. To tell the 
 truth, I was getting tired of the entire matter and 
 would have felt relieved had she told me she was 
 about to return to Europe or America. I had stirred 
 up a hornet's nest, as the saying is, by some innocent 
 letters written to her from Paris. I deserved, very 
 likely, the punishment I was receiving and should 
 bear it like a respectable martyr.
 
 " THE PRIEST TOLD YOU ?" 239 
 
 But at noon, when Miss Brixton returned to the 
 hotel, she was in a state of the greatest nervousness. 
 Her maid came to inform me, while I was waiting 
 for lunch, that her mistress was actually ill and that 
 a physician had been summoned. I asked the girl 
 what had caused the relapse, and she said she did 
 not know. Where had they been ? To the mairie. 
 Miss Brixton, with Gustave, had gone inside to see 
 Ihe mayor, while Mathilde remained in the ante- 
 room. Suddenly she heard voices, one of which she 
 recognized as Miss Brixton's, raised in earnest argu- 
 ment. She caught but a few words, " No, no ! I 
 will not believe it ! That cannot be the law !" and 
 similar utterances. When her mistress came out she 
 was weeping and so weak that she had to be sup- 
 ported to her carriage. She knew no more. 
 
 These facts, it may readily be conceived, I drew 
 out of the girl by the promise of a sufficient number 
 of francs, which I promptly paid as soon as she fin- 
 ished. I saw the doctor who was called to attend 
 my compatriot, who advised me that his patient 
 was in a very nervous state and must not be unnec- 
 essarily disturbed. Gustave met me several times in 
 the course of the next two hours, but as he volun- 
 teered no information, I was no wiser. I would not 
 have propounded a single question to him to save 
 his neck. 
 
 I put the words reported by the French maid, to- 
 gether with all I knew or suspected, into one lump, 
 and they explained nothing. 
 
 The mairie? What had happened at the mairie? 
 Over and over I asked myself this, and received no 
 response. Then, all at once, the words spoken by
 
 240 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Maurice Fantelli to Miss Brixton on the hill at Bou- 
 logne-sur-Mer, came to me. 
 
 " It was no priest ; in that you are right ; but the 
 mayor of the place, which is according to our cus- 
 tom. He is there still, I presume ; you could go and 
 see him !" 
 
 There was no doubt that the mayor of Constan- 
 tine was the individual referred to in this ambigu- 
 ous manner. That functionary knew more about 
 the Brixton secret than I did. Gustave had been 
 sent to him, and having returned to Algiers, Miss 
 Brixton had decided to go for a personal interview. 
 She had seen him, with the result that she was now 
 prostrated on a bed of illness. And during the time 
 she was in his office she had been heard to utter : 
 " No, no ! I will not believe it ! That cannot be 
 the law ! H 
 
 Feeling justified in probing this affair to the bot- 
 tom, at this stage I took a walk without delay to the 
 Hotel de Ville, and asked for the mayor. Unfor- 
 tunately, the attendant replied, his Excellency had 
 taken the train shortly before for some point in the 
 interior. He would be back in a day or two ; 
 exactly when, he could not say. 
 
 It was very exasperating. I had been within 
 sight of the information I sought, and had stood 
 supinely waiting until just too late to find it out. 
 
 Miss Brixton was still ill that night, but she sent 
 for me, and I was asked to step into the chamber 
 where she lay. When we were alone she turned 
 toward me a pair of swollen eyes and looked so 
 pitiful that I could not help sympathizing with her 
 deeply. 
 
 ** My friend," she said, " I have heard distressing
 
 -TlllS FK1KST TOLD YOU V 841 
 
 news. I have hopes that things are not as bad as 
 they have been represented, but until I am sure I 
 cannot help being troubled. In the morning I shall 
 see one of the most eminent solicitors in the prov- 
 ince. If he endorses what I have been told, I shall 
 start immediately for Europe, whether the doctors 
 call me sick or well.'* 
 
 She paused, and I remained silent, there beinf 
 nothing, so far as I could see, for me to say. 
 
 " You still wonder that I do not confide in you," 
 she cried. *'I am afraid 1 cannot much longer 
 refrain from doing so." 
 
 "If you had chosen that course earlier, Miss Brix- 
 ton, it would have been better," I replied. " At 
 present your attitude keeps me from discussing with 
 you some discoveries of my own." 
 
 She raised herself on her elbow and looked at me 
 earnestly. 
 
 '* Discoveries !" she repeated. 
 
 " Yes. They amount to nothing without the key 
 which you so persistently hide ; but combined with 
 what you yourself learn they might be of value.'* 
 
 The girl let her head fall again on the pillow. 
 
 "You see how ill I am, and yet you tell me this !** 
 she said. ** What have you learned ? I beg you, 
 conceal nothing." 
 
 I remarked that the doctor had left word that she 
 must not be excited. 
 
 " Ah !* she cried. " What can excite me more than 
 these horrible possibilities, worse even than the 
 knowledge that they were true ! It is uncertainty 
 that gives the keenest pang. You have heard 
 omething here ?" 
 
 " Not here/' I replied. " At Algiers."
 
 242 OUT OP WEDLOCK. 
 
 She looked relieved. 
 
 " Oh, at Algiers !" she repeated. 
 
 "At La Trappe," I explained, laconically. 
 
 She regarded me with a vacant expression. 
 
 "You went to La Trappe once with a gentleman," 
 I said. " One of the holy fathers took you into the 
 chapel, where he began to hold a service. Suddenly 
 he ceased to speak the words of his text, and appear- 
 ing angry, addressed such language to your escort 
 that he left the place precipitately with you. Do 
 you remember that ?" 
 
 Miss Brixton stretched her arms above her head in 
 a disappointed way. 
 
 " Is that your discovery ?" she asked. " Why, I 
 would have told it to you and welcome. Perhaps 
 you learned what we had done to enrage the monk." 
 
 " I did," was my response. 
 
 "What was it?" she asked, curiously. 
 
 " He found he had been within an ace of marry- 
 ing you." 
 
 It is a part of Miss Brixton's nature to be strong- 
 est when under the severest trial. Many women 
 would have fainted at this moment, for it was appar- 
 ent that my statement was her first intimation of 
 the truth. Instead of swooning, she sat almost up- 
 right in bed, and spoke in the calmest tone. 
 
 "Are you certain of this ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " The priest told you he was repeating a marriage 
 service ?" 
 
 " He did." 
 
 " How came he to speak of it ?'* 
 
 "Because I asked him." 
 
 Her expression grew more puzzled than before.
 
 ''THE PRIEST TOLD YOU?" 243 
 
 "I don't understand," she said. "If you asked 
 him, you must have heard of it before. How could 
 that be ?" 
 
 "A gentleman who was present in the chapel at 
 the time told me," I explained. 
 
 A gen-" 
 
 Agitation the most extreme showed in my com- 
 panion's face. 
 
 "When did he tell you ?" she demanded, almost 
 imperiously. 
 
 "The day before we left Algiers," I answered, 
 calmly. 
 
 With a movement that was wholly maternal, Miss 
 Brixton's hand swept across the counterpane until it 
 rested on the cot where her child lay, close to her 
 own bed. When her eyes met mine again they were 
 fixed and strange. 
 
 "I do not see why you should excite yourself,'* 
 said I. "The attempt to make you his wife would 
 not have been binding on French territory, unless 
 supplemented by a civil contract." 
 
 She bowed absently and closed her eyes as if in 
 pain. 
 
 " Good-night," she said, reaching a hand toward 
 me that wandered like that of a sleep-walker. 
 
 I took the sudden dismissal without comment, 
 more in doubt than ever as to the cause of these 
 peculiar manifestations. 
 
 The next morning I was informed that made- 
 moiselle was rather better, and I took a carriage ride 
 into the country to pass the time away till noon. 
 
 When I returned I was given a letter, containing 
 the startling information that Miss Brixton with her
 
 244 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 courier and maid had taken the train to Phillippe- 
 ville an hour before ! 
 
 " I could not help it there was no alternative meet me 
 in New York. BLANCHE." 
 
 That was the extent of the epistle. 
 
 And, as if this was not enough to destroy my 
 equanimity, a card was brought me while I read the 
 letter, and on it were the names and titles of LOUIS 
 DESMOULINS ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 A GREAT CLUE EXPLODED. 
 
 Why had Miss Brixton gone to Phillippeville ? 
 Undoubtedly to catch the evening steamer for 
 France. Why had she fled in this precipitate man- 
 ner ? Evidently on account of learning the prox- 
 imity of the man she feared. 
 
 While not flattered at her desertion after my 
 devoted attachment to her fortunes, I could not help 
 admitting that she was in a measure justified in her 
 action. She had taken the quickest means to escape 
 a meeting which she hated above all things. Phil- 
 lippeville is but four hours' ride from Constantine, 
 and the nearest port by which she could leave the 
 country. There are times when one cannot spend 
 many minutes in consideration. Miss Brixton had 
 packed her things and embarked with her maid 
 and courier because it was the only thing to do.
 
 A GREAT CLUE EXPLODED. 24:5 
 
 "TeH M. Desmoulins that I will see him here," 
 was my reply to the garfon who brought the card. 
 
 A few minutes later I admitted to my petit salon a 
 Frenchman of about forty years of age ; of medium 
 height and a most courtly manner ; sallow, as if 
 from a long residence under tropical suns ; pale, as 
 might be expected from the wound he had received ; 
 weak, like one whose vitality is being slowly but 
 surely sapped. 
 
 " M. Medford ?" he asked, with a low bow. 
 
 I acknowledged the intimation and pronounced 
 his name in return, referring to his card, which I 
 still held in my hand. 
 
 " Will you be seated ?" I added, motioning him to 
 a chair, which he graciously accepted. 
 
 For a moment we regarded each other with 
 apparently equal interest. 
 
 " I did not expect you at Constantine," I ventured 
 to say. 
 
 " I suppose not," he replied, pleasantly ; " but 
 learning that you had left Algiers I thought it as 
 well to join you at once. I judged from the tenor 
 of your despatch that your business was of a press- 
 ing nature." 
 
 I wanted him to " lead " as much as possible. 
 
 " You have travelled very quickly, to go so soon 
 from Dijon to Algiers and reach here to-day," I 
 remarked. 
 
 " I made a much briefer journey," said he. " When 
 I reached Marseilles I telegraphed to Algiers to say 
 that I was coming, and the reply informed me that 
 you had left the Hotel de 1'Oasis for this city. Con- 
 sequently I took the steamer and came via Phillippe- 
 ville."
 
 246 OUT or WEDLOCK. 
 
 I said he was very kind to respond with so little 
 delay. 
 
 " Not at all," he answered. " I have been filled 
 with a lively curiosity on your account. I heard 
 several months ago that a gentleman of your name 
 was making inquiries for me, and when your interest 
 took the shape of telegrams that summoned me to 
 Algeria I could wait no longer." 
 
 I looked at him intently, and saw nothing in his 
 countenance which indicated anything but perfect 
 ingenuousness. 
 
 " Shall I understand," I asked, " that you have no 
 idea what I want of you ?" 
 
 " That is precisely what I mean to convey," he 
 said, with a smile. 
 
 There was an awkward pause, for it was now 
 evident that I must take the initiative. 
 
 " Then, monsieur," I said, " I shall be obliged to 
 take you back to an experience that must prove 
 unpleasant to your memory. Will you give me leave 
 to be perfectly frank ?" 
 
 He looked surprised, but replied Uhfet he hoped I, 
 would be completely so. 
 
 "Nearly three years ago," I began, "you were 
 wounded by a pistol-bullet." 
 
 He bowed, flushing slightly. 
 
 " Shall I go on ?" 
 
 "By all means." 
 
 "That wound was caused by the act of a brother 
 officer " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Who was afterward tried and punished for the 
 offense." 
 
 "All of which," interrupted Monsieur Desmoulins,
 
 A GREAT CLUE EXPLODED. 247 
 
 * is on record in the archives of the African branch 
 of the War Department." 
 
 I agreed to this with a nod. 
 
 " But the cause of your brother officer's act the 
 reason that induced him to fire the shot is not a 
 matter of record," I said, impressively. 
 
 " True. If that is what you wish to ascertain I 
 shall oblige you without hesitation. Though it 
 reflects anything but credit upon myself, I am glad 
 to relieve my friend of blame in a matter through 
 which he has suffered so deeply. The shot was richly 
 deserved, as I have always admitted. I was intoxi- 
 cated at the time, or the provocation never could 
 have occurred. His reason for assaulting me was 
 on account of " 
 
 " An insult to a lady," I broke in. 
 
 Rather surprised, M. Desmoulins admitted that my 
 statement was correct. 
 
 " Which lady," I continued, slowly, " you doubtless 
 expected to find here with me at Constantine." 
 
 At this Col. Desmoulins started from his chair. 
 
 44 Here ! With you !" he exclaimed. " I beg your 
 pardon, monsieur, but how could I have such an 
 expectation, when I had never heard your name in 
 connection with hers, in the remotest way ?" 
 
 I paused, reflecting how likely this was to be the 
 correct state of the case. 
 
 " We mean to be frank with each other, I believe," 
 said I. 
 
 "On my part there is certainly the fullest intention 
 of being so," he replied. 
 
 "And you did not know that Miss Brixton had 
 been here ?"
 
 248 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 "I assure you, no. At least, not during the past 
 two years." 
 
 The best actor in the Comddic Fran$aisc could not 
 have looked as he did while telling a falsehood. 
 
 " Let me tell you, then," I said, " that she has been 
 here with me. And that it is but an hour or two 
 since she departed." 
 
 He drew a long breath that seemed to indicate 
 relief. 
 
 " How does it happen," he asked, " that you did 
 not accompany her ?" 
 
 "I did not know she was going. I presume she 
 heard of your arrival during my morning absence 
 and acted without delay." 
 
 The Frenchman quivered a little about th. 
 shoulders, as if he did not relish my expressions. 
 
 "That seems incredible," he answered. " I would 
 not have hurt her, poor girl ! It is very unfortunate, 
 if true. She did not know, then, that you had tele^ 
 graphed to Dijon for me ?" 
 
 " By no means," I said. " Later, when I explain 
 everything, you will understand why." 
 
 " It is very mysterious," he remarked. " If I had 
 gone to Algiers, it appears, in response to your 
 earnest request, I should not have found you there." 
 
 It was the first time I had thought of the matter 
 in that light. We had left so suddenly that the 
 telegram to M. Desmoulins had for the time escaped 
 my thought! altogether. 
 
 "I left Algiers in great haste," was my reply. " I 
 expected to return shortly, and having written for 
 tidings of you several times I presumed you would 
 be a week or more in coming, if indeed you came at
 
 A GREAT CLUB EXPLODED. 249 
 
 all. My main object, however, was to get you away 
 from Dijon." 
 
 M. Desmoulins stared at me, and remarked with 
 great coolness that I was speaking in riddles. 
 
 " I will be plain on at least one point," I answered. 
 " The evening I sent you that despatch a gentleman 
 left Algiers for Dijon with the apparent intention of 
 inflicting upon you a serious injury." 
 
 There was a sarcastic curl to the Frenchman's lip, 
 his amour propre touched by the insinuation. 
 
 " You have hardly made the point plain yet," he 
 remarked, icily. 
 
 " I will do so," I answered. " The gentleman's 
 name was Martine. Do you understand now?" 
 
 " Not in the least," he replied, promptly. 
 
 I confessed myself much puzzled by this answer. 
 
 *'M. Martine had a friend an intimate friend,** 
 said I, " who had a violent attachment for Miss 
 Brixton. Having learned of your intimate relations 
 with that lady " 
 
 Col. Desmoulins uttered a loud exclamation. 
 
 " My relations with with Miss Brixton !** he 
 cried. 
 
 Exactly." 
 
 " What relations ?" he inquired, testily. *' Mon- 
 sieur, I am getting out of patience !" 
 
 " The relations," I said, sharply, " that made you 
 the father of her child !" 
 
 For a moment the Frenchman eyed me with an 
 expression that I could not fathom. 
 
 "Are you sane?" he asked, "or some madman 
 escaped from confinement ?" 
 
 "Apparently in the possession of my senses," I 
 said, boldly. "I am executor of the Brixton estate
 
 250 OTJT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 and have the best of reasons for the interest I take 
 in this matter. Your manner is a strange one, after 
 the pains I have taken to warn you of your danger." 
 
 The next sentence uttered by M, Desmoulins was 
 so mixed with profanity that I fear to use it in this 
 narrative. All his polite demeanor vanished. He 
 informed me roughly that he was afraid of nothing 
 that walked the earth or traversed the air ; if some- 
 one had gone to Dijon to call him to account for 
 anything, I had done a great wrong to put him 
 in the position of a fleeing coward. As to the lady 
 whose name I had used, his only connection with 
 her was on the unfortunate occasion which M. Fan- 
 telli had promptly avenged. He had never met her 
 before or since that day. If she had become an un- 
 wedded mother which he would have sworn impos- 
 sible on any other evidence than mine he could 
 easily guess her child's paternity, though wild horses 
 should not drag his suspicions out of him. 
 
 And he rattled on at this rate for at least five 
 minutes, until he was so exhausted by his efforts 
 that he could proceed no farther. 
 
 Somewhat abashed by the failure of my great dis- 
 covery I begged the officer's pardon for my mistake. 
 Then I told him the history of the Brixton family, 
 the strange ideas advanced by the daughter and 
 what facts I knew concerning the birth of her son. 
 He grew calmer as I proceeded, and listened with 
 the deepest interest, uttering many " Ah's " and 
 
 oh*s r 
 
 "I give you my word as an officer and a gentle- 
 man," he said, when I had concluded, " that I never 
 spoke a syllable to Miss Brixton but once, and that I 
 never saw her alone. What I did was to use lan
 
 A GREAT CLUE EXPLODED. 251 
 
 guage for which I am mortally ashamed, while under 
 the influence of strong liquor, to which I am unac- 
 customed. M. Fantelli, acting under the impulse of 
 the moment, drew a revolver and shot me, precisely 
 as he ought to have done. If I had been killed I 
 should have received only my just deserts. As it 
 was, my life was cut short the doctors tell me 
 another year is all I can count on with certainty, 
 You see, I extenuate nothing. I have succeeded in 
 freeing poor Maurice, and now I await the execution 
 of my own sentence." 
 
 The suavity, the gentleness, the politeness of the 
 Frenchman had returned with full force. I have 
 never seen such perfect combination of courtesy, 
 bravery and manhood. 
 
 " Why did you lay this sin at my door?" he asked, 
 after a pause. 
 
 " On account of a chain of circumstantial evidence 
 that seemed sufficient," I replied, in a discouraged 
 tone. " I saw M. Fantelli while he was undergoing his 
 imprisonment at Algiers. Although we exchanged 
 but one glance he knew that I sympathized with him 
 After his release we met accidentally and travelled, 
 together. He told me he was convicted of assault- 
 ing a brother officer with intent to kill. He said the 
 cause was an insult to a lady so gross, that it set his 
 blood on fire. Then he related how the injured man 
 had labored to save him and had finally obtained his 
 release. I easily recognized Miss Brixton as the 
 probable heroine of this tale and informed M. Fantelli 
 that I intended to return to Algiers and ascertain 
 your identiiy. To this he answered quietly that he 
 would save me that trouble, giving me your name 
 and address. After obtaining it I told him my sus*
 
 252 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 picion that you were Wallace Brixton's father. He 
 replied, 'Absurd '/' but did not convince me. 
 
 "In writing to Miss Brixton, who was then in 
 America, I told her what I had learned, though not 
 all I guessed. In doing this I alluded to M. Fan- 
 telli as my informant. As soon as she could reach 
 me I was at Boulogne-sur-Mer she came. I found 
 her much excited. She asked me again and again 
 to repeat what I had heard. When I reached my 
 conclusion tha.ty0u were her child's father, she only 
 cried ' Oh /' and had difficulty in restraining her 
 tears. Within a short time I found that she was 
 holding interviews with Maurice. Afterward she 
 begged me to accompany her back to Algeria, seem- 
 ing to carry with her a most portentous secret. 
 Everything continued to point to you, as far as I 
 could see. Miss Brixton and myself were pursuing 
 our investigations separately, and I was kept in the 
 dark completely as far as she was concerned. The 
 climax came this noon, when in one moment there 
 was placed in my hands a letter stating that she had 
 fled the country and a card containing your name. 
 What could I think but that the knowledge of your 
 arrival had caused her flight ?" 
 
 M. Desmoulins bowed abstractedly. 
 
 a lt was a strange combination," he said. " You 
 started with a wrong premise, and each step you 
 took was consequently erroneous. But who is this 
 fellow whose friend is to fight or assassinate me? 
 I never heard of a man of his description. Was it 
 was it on account of what you said, that he started 
 so indignantly for France ?" 
 
 I had to admit with a blush, that it was. I told
 
 A WffiAT CLUE EXPLODED. 
 
 my new acquaintance of the incident of La Trappy 
 repeating the conversation as it occurred. 
 
 "This grows clearer," he remarked, when I had 
 finished, though I was obliged to admit that it did 
 not to me. "Now, will you kindly give me a writ- 
 ten statement, that you were mistaken in your reflec- 
 tions -upon me, that I may show it to this Unknown if 
 he ever turns up. He is undoubtedly a gentleman 
 and not an assassin," he explained, "and intends to 
 challenge me to a duel. I am a pretty good shot 
 yet, even if my arm is a trifle weak, and should not 
 like to kill a fellow-countryman for nothing. After 
 I show him your letter, if he rushes to his fate it 
 will be his own fault." 
 
 I said 1 would write the letter at once, and sat 
 down at my desk to do so. 
 
 " If you could let any of that light which you sec 
 into my head," I remarked next, *' it would be a gen- 
 uine favor." 
 
 "But I cannot,** he replied, gently. " I suppose 
 I know who is the father of that child, but I have no 
 right even to breathe my suspicion." 
 
 " Is he still alive?" I asked, interrogatively. 
 
 Oh, yes !" 
 
 " But she thought he was dead.*' 
 
 "I can understand how that was," he answered. 
 
 Our talk lasted for an hour longer, but nothing 
 that unravelled the tangled skein was developed. 
 M. Desmoulins said he should remain in Kabylia for 
 some time, as the climate was very suitable to his 
 health. 
 
 Before I retired that night, I heard some gentle- 
 men in the reading-room, talking about the steamer 
 from Phillippeville to Marseilles. A telegram had been
 
 254 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 received, saying it would lie over in port another 
 day for some necessary repairs. Anyone who 
 wished to take passage on it could easily make con- 
 nections by either of the morning trains. 
 
 I was rather pleased to learn this. Having been 
 left in the lurch by Miss Brixton, it would be to a 
 certain extent gratifying to overtake her so quickly. 
 Besides, I could now assure her that M. Desmoulins 
 had no intention of annoying her, which must be 
 pleasant news. More than this, it would be much 
 more agreeable to travel back to Europe or the United 
 States with a party of people I knew than alone. 
 
 The severe set-back I had received within the past 
 few hours convinced me that as an amateur detective 
 I was far from being a shining success. If Miss 
 Brixton wished to keep her secret she might do so 
 thereafter, for all of me. When Master Wallace, 
 some years later, should demand the name of his 
 ptre I would tell him to wander over one or two 
 continents and find him, if he could. 
 
 ** Good-bye," said M. Desmoulins, the next morn- 
 ing, as I took the carriage for the station. " I am 
 glad to have met you. It is a good thing you 
 brought me to Kabylia at this season. We are not 
 likely to meet again ; and so, adieu !*' 
 
 We never did meet again. He died a few weeks 
 later at Setif, expiating heroically the offense he had 
 committed in a drunken folly, admitting to the end 
 that he had deserved his punishment ! 
 
 Miss Brixton responded to my call at her room in 
 the Phillippeville hotel, looking like a hunted animal 
 that fears its fate. 
 
 "You have not come to detain me I" she cried
 
 ** HE IS HEE HUSBAND." 255 
 
 "No, no! I want nothing now but to get home 
 again !" 
 
 " My child," I said, for at that minute she seemed 
 to me the little girl at her father's that played with 
 dolls ; " we will go together." 
 
 Passage was engaged on the steamer for myself 
 with the others, but before she sailed a new compli- 
 cation had ruffled the surface of our perplexed 
 affairs. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 U HE IS HER HUSBAND." 
 
 While taking an afternoon walk, I came upon 
 Maurice Fantelli in the Rue Nationale. 
 
 The surprise was evidently mutual. 
 
 "I thought you were at Constantine I" was the 
 immediate exclamation of the Frenchman. 
 
 " You were better informed of my movements than 
 I of yours," I answered. " I left Constantine this 
 very morning." 
 
 " You are going on the steamer to-night, are you ?" 
 asked Maurice. 
 
 "That is my intention." 
 
 "To leave Africa for good !" 
 
 "Yes. I shall return to America. There are 
 matters of business there which require my atten- 
 tion. But who told you I was in this part of the 
 world ?" 
 
 " A gentleman you met in Algiers."
 
 256 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Ah ! M. Martine !" 
 
 " Yes, M. Martine," replied Maurice, eyeing me 
 strangely. 
 
 " I left Monsieur in an excited state," I remarked. 
 " I wonder if you can tell me what ailed him ?" 
 
 Maurice nodded gravely, 
 
 "It is a peculiar story," he said. "If you can 
 spare the time to walk over to my room, I shall be 
 glad to talk it over with you." 
 
 I saw no reason to refuse this invitation. If there 
 was any late information about my hot-headed 
 friend I should be glad to know it. Having dis- 
 posed of M. Desmoulins I was anxious to learn what 
 had become of his enemies. 
 
 "Let us make ourselves as comfortable as possi- 
 ble," remarked Maurice, when we had seated our- 
 selves and lit some very fair cigars. " I believe M. 
 Martine told you he should leave Algiers abruptly 
 for France ?" 
 
 I replied that this was true. 
 
 "For Dijon, I think?" continued M. Maurice. 
 
 " For Dijon. Or perhaps it would be more ac- 
 curate to say that he purposed going to see a friend 
 who would probably make that journey." 
 
 M. Fantelli bowed and said, " Prtdscmcnt. Well, 
 M. Martine and his friend went to Dijon, about 
 as fast as the regular conveyances could carry them ; 
 and when they arrived they found " 
 
 ** That M. Desmoulins was absent," I interrupted. 
 
 "Just so. They also learned that his absence was 
 caused by a telegram from Algiers, and that he was 
 supposed to have gone to that place." 
 
 I maintained silence. 
 
 ** Thev discovered this*M. Martine and his friend/*
 
 W HE IS HER HUSBAND." 957 
 
 continued Maurice, " that the telegram summoning 
 M. Marline to Algiers was signed by M. Medford ; 
 they also learned, for they took their bearings care- 
 fully, that M. Medford had left Algiers ; that M. 
 Desmoulins had made a similar discovery ; and 
 inally that both these gentlemen were at Constan- 
 tine or on the way there. Voila /" 
 
 Lost in admiration of the excellent detective qual- 
 ities of these individuals I inquired how they had 
 Obtained possession of all these facts. 
 
 " By a free use of electricity," said Maurice. " A 
 telegram to Algiers and its answer proved that you 
 had left there ; another to Marseilles showed that 
 M. Desmoulins had taken passage on a steamer for 
 Phillippeville ; another, sent yesterday, to Constan- 
 tine, showed that you were both at the Hotel de 
 Paris. Could anything be more simple ?" 
 
 Nothing could, I was obliged to acknowledge. 
 
 "It follows from your statement," I said, " that 
 M. Marline and his friend are here." 
 
 There was an instant of hesitalion on ihe part of 
 M. Fanlelli. 
 
 " I lei that out unwillingly," he said, " bul il can 
 make no difference. M. Marline and his friend were 
 here naturally when he sent the telegram yesler- 
 day. At ihe presenl moment they are at Constan- 
 tine, wilhoul doubl, interviewing M. Desmoulins in 
 relation to the stalemenl you made aboulliim." 
 
 The perspiralion sprang lo my forehead. 
 
 "I am obliged to confess that I made thai slate- 
 ment under a great error," I replied. " I have left 
 a writlen explanation to that effect wilh Col. 
 Desmoulins. You will remember," I conlinued, 
 " that I believed M. Desmoulins the father of Miss
 
 258 OTJT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 Brixton's child. Until my interview with him I still 
 held that opinion, which I am now certain is errone- 
 ous. When I told M. Marline I was laboring under 
 that delusion." 
 
 Maurice sprang to his feet and uttered a cry. 
 
 " And you meant that, and that only, by what you 
 said of him to M. Marline !" he exclaimed. 
 
 "That and thai only," I answered, surprised al his 
 demeanor. 
 
 Wilhout another word he strode at a quick pace 
 from the room, leaving me for several minutes 
 alone. 
 
 "You have astonished me intensely," said Mau- 
 rice, when he returned. " Perhaps your explana- 
 tion has come in time to prevent a very regretlable 
 proceeding ; perhaps, on the contrary, it lias not. I 
 have sent a message to M. Marline and his friend." 
 He took out his watch and consulted it carefully. 
 " It is a close shave," he continued, " but we will 
 hope for the uest." 
 
 I slared slupidly at the speaker. 
 
 "There could not have been much harm done," I 
 stammered. "They would have read my written 
 statement, and that would have ended the mailer." 
 
 "They might and they might not," was the quiet 
 reply. " When a gentleman feels that all his finer 
 sentimenls have been oulraged when he hears lhat 
 one he considered his true friend has violated all the 
 canons of amity where, in short, he is led to believe 
 that a woman dearer to him than life itself has been 
 degraded for the second time by a certain person 
 he is in a condition of mind that does not easily 
 accept explanations. The gentleman of whom I 
 speak is now with M. Marline in the city of Con-
 
 "HE IS HER HUSBAND. 7 * 259 
 
 stantine, if the train which took him there is on time. 
 He would not assassinate M. Desmoulins in cold 
 blood, but he might give him such provocation that 
 a duel could not be averted." 
 
 This was not pleasant to hear, to say the least. 
 The murder, for I could call it no less, of an innocent 
 man might be the result of my too hasty jump at an 
 unwarranted conclusion. I was in a very nervous 
 state, and the recollection that Miss Brixton was at 
 the moment within a few hundred yards, liable to 
 meet some of these people and learn the truth, did 
 not add to my serenity. But what did M. Fantelli 
 mean by his wholly mysterious remark about the 
 friend of M. Martine holding that lady "dearer to 
 him than life itself !" Who could this Unknown be 
 that had conceived such a violent affection for Miss 
 Brixton, a woman whose acquaintance with men had 
 been of the most limited description ? 
 
 " I am at a loss to know," I replied, when I could 
 get breath, " who can claim such a deep interest in 
 my American friend. He must have a very warm 
 place in his heart for her, to travel hundreds of miles 
 merely for the sake of this meeting," 
 
 It was now the turn of Maurice to stare. 
 
 " Do you wish me to understand," he asked, 
 slowly, " that you have no conception whatever as 
 to who this gentleman is ?" 
 
 ** I have none," was my positive answer. 
 
 "Then," he said, "I will tell you ; for there is no 
 longer any use in equivocation. He is her husband I" 
 
 *' Her husband ! Whose husband ?" I asked him, 
 feeling a blindness crossing my vision. 
 
 " The husband of the lady you call ' Mees Brees 
 ton !' "
 
 860 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 I heard him distinctly enough, but the words did 
 not seem to have any definite meaning. I had never 
 connected the word " husband " with George Brix- 
 ton's daughter, and I could not do so now. She 
 who hated marriage, who had denounced it, who 
 had challenged the contumely of the whole world by 
 her contempt of it, who had drunk to the confusion 
 of all wives, who had upheld the standard of free 
 and independent motherhood ! Husband ? Blanche 
 Brixton's husband ! It could not be! 
 
 "I think you are mistaken, monsieur," I managed 
 to articulate at last. 
 
 " Afais, non" he responded, sharply, and there is 
 nothing that means more than this expression thus 
 uttered by a French tongue. 
 
 Strange thoughts were passing through my brain. 
 Poor Blanche ! I wished I had never mixed in her 
 private affairs. I wished I had let the paternity 
 of her boy lie in the darkness where she wanted it 
 to remain. She did not want a husband ; she would 
 blame me for saddling this infliction. upon her. I 
 had brought nothing but trouble to this girl whom 
 I would have done anything to serve. How could I 
 help her escape its consequences ? 
 
 And all this time she was resting, in ignorance of 
 her danger, within pistol-shot of the parlor in which 
 we were talking ! 
 
 **I cannot dispute you," I said, vacantly, at the 
 same time rising with the intention of reaching my 
 hotel as soon as possible. " I repeat that I was 
 entirely unaware of the fact you state and that I 
 cannot yet comprehend how it can be true. Will 
 you give me any further enlightenment T I added,
 
 *HX IS HER HUSBAND." 961 
 
 leaning my arm on the back of a heavy chair for the 
 
 support I was beginning to need. 
 
 He bowed politely. 
 
 " Ask anything you wish," he said. 
 
 "When and where did this marriage take place?" 
 
 44 In December, three years ago, at the mairie of 
 Constantine." 
 
 The mairie ! 
 
 " Where did the couple go then ?'* 
 
 " To the fort where the husband was undergoing 
 confinement." 
 
 I began to wonder if I was not dreaming, after 
 all. 
 
 " How long did they stay there ?** 
 
 " She about a month, he several days longer,** 
 replied Fantelli, like a well-informed witness at some 
 ordinary investigation. " The lady, being at liberty, 
 as her husband was not, went out nearly every day 
 into the city. On the occasion of one of her trips 
 she failed to return." 
 
 It was growing slightly clearer, but there were 
 still many things to explain. 
 
 "Can you account for her desertion?"! asked. 
 
 " One does not account for the actions of a 
 woman," he replied. 
 
 "But Miss Brixton certainly told her friends," I 
 remarked, with an effort, " that the father of her 
 child was dead ; that he died a long time before tho 
 boy's birth ; and that the cause of his death was a 
 bullet wound." 
 
 M. Fantelli, who had also risen and was standing 
 near me, bowed with the utmost dignity. 
 
 All of which." he said, '* she had reason to be
 
 262 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 lieve. At the time she left her husband he was 
 under sentence of death." 
 
 Ah ! The light was growing a little stronger. I 
 could almost see the day-break in the mist that had 
 so long surrounded this matter. 
 
 "That sentence must have been the reason why 
 she married him at all," I said. 
 
 "The evidence points in that direction," was the 
 solemn reply. " She thought he had but a few 
 weeks to live. It was not a husband that she 
 wanted, but a child. I can comprehend the case 
 perfectly." 
 
 I wanted to get away. I was anxious to reach 
 Miss Brixton I could call her nothing else but the 
 fascination of this story chained me a minute longer 
 to the room. 
 
 "And the husband^he suspected nothing?" I 
 ventured. 
 
 " You may be certain of that. He is a man of the 
 highest honor, who would have indignantly repu- 
 diated such an arrangement. He loved your coun- 
 try-woman then, as he does to-day, with a passionate 
 devotion the first and last love, let me add, that he 
 has ever felt. The thought that Desmoulins had 
 treated her wrongly made him almost insane, 
 although he has never seen her since her sudden 
 departure and does not expect to meet her again." 
 
 I caught eagerly at this straw. If Blanche's 
 husband was content to leave her in peace, she 
 might yet escape from this wretched entanglement 
 into which I had led her, and never know the 
 worst. 
 
 "Another question," I said. "If this gentleman 
 was ' possessed of the highest sense of honor ' how
 
 A DAY AT CONDB 8MENDOTT. 
 
 did he happen to be under a death sentence ? Had 
 he committed no crime ?" 
 
 "None whatever," replied Monsieur Fantelli. 
 " His innocence was afterward fully established, 
 and he was set free with a note of regret and full 
 exoneration from the department." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 A DAY AT CONDE SMENDOU. 
 
 Plainer and plainer grew the horizon. 
 
 " But there is one thing I do not yet understand," 
 I remarked. " If his love for Miss Brixton for his 
 wife was and still is so strong, why did he permit 
 her to desert him without protest ? Is this the act 
 of a man who loves ?" 
 
 "Exactly that," replied M. Fantelli. "He had 
 sought her by every honorable means, using an in- 
 terpreter, for he could not speak her language, nor 
 she his. He secured her hand in marriage only 
 when it appeared to him that his days were num- 
 bered. He made a will, leaving her all the estate he 
 possessed, which was not inconsiderable. The few 
 weeks he passed with her were so blissful that 
 he almost forgot the suspended sword that hung 
 above his head. When she left him of her own free 
 will, he could not pursue her. Her happiness was 
 more to him than his own. To follow her, to seek 
 her out and urge his love again, would only give her 
 annoyance. He sacrificed himself on the altar of
 
 2(54 our OF WIDLOOI. 
 
 his affection. No lover ever made a nobler resign- 
 ment." 
 
 The dawn was quite clear. Miss Brixton's story 
 was explained ; all but her denial of the marriage ; 
 that was still to come. 
 
 "But now," pursued M. Fantelli, u matters have 
 assumed a different aspect. This gentleman has 
 learned that he is a father. He cannot be made to 
 believe that his wife seriously wishes to go on bear- 
 ing the imputation of being an unwedded mother. 
 He means to find her and establish his son's legit- 
 imacy. He will not force himself upon his wife his 
 self-abasement is complete. He only wishes to serve 
 her and his boy. When their interests are thoroughly 
 protected, he will retire from the scene and trouble 
 them no more.'* 
 
 I believed him completely. I determined to go to 
 Miss Brixton and tell her all I had learned. It 
 seemed to me I could do her no greater service. 
 Perhaps now she would share her secret with me, 
 when I had discovered most of it without her aid. 
 
 "Au revoir, monsieur," I stammered. There was 
 no use in attempting a more elaborate farewell. 
 
 ** I shall see you again, I trust," he said, holding 
 out his hand. 
 
 Although I did not believe he ever would, I acqui- 
 esced in his suggestion, and a minute later was walk- 
 ing rapidly to my hotel. A garfon met me at the 
 door. 
 
 44 1 have been looking everywhere for you, mon- 
 sieur,** he exclaimed. " What a pity you were not 
 here tvrenty minutes ago t" 
 
 * And why ?" 
 
 44 To go with the rest of your party. They took
 
 A DAT AT COKOE SMEJCDOtT. 265 
 
 the Constantine train, after waiting tilt the latest 
 second for you. Here is a letter.*' 
 
 I must be dreaming again, or else Miss Brixton 
 I could not call her madame, even in my thoughts- 
 had gone daft. To Constantine, when the boat for 
 Marseilles would set sail within four hours ! What 
 was she thinking of ! 
 
 "I have discovered here the presence of a man I 
 most dread to meet," she wrote, '* and see no way of 
 escape but to take the railway, via Constantine, to 
 some other point on the coast. He undoubtedly 
 knows I am booked by to-night's steamer, and this 
 will throw him off my track. I shall go to Bougie, 
 if I can ; if not, straight to Algiers. I wish to get 
 out of French territory as speedily as possible, and 
 shall aim for Italy or Spain. I still hope you will 
 return to the hotel in time to go with us, but if not, 
 pray believe me most sorry for the trouble I have 
 caused you. As soon as I arrive on European soil, I 
 will telegraph my address to Baring Bros., with in- 
 structions to give it to you on application. I long 
 for America and shall waste no time in getting there 
 when once I feel safe." 
 
 I stood rooted to the spot like one petrified. She 
 was rushing to the city where the man she sought to 
 avoid had gone before her ! His face might be the 
 first one she encountered at the Hotel de Paris. 
 Could anything be done ? 
 
 Turning from the astonished garden I ran in any- 
 thing but a dignified way down the street toward 
 the station. I knew that people were stopping to 
 look at me, that an impression was abroad that I was 
 a lunatic, but I kept on till I arrived at my destina- 
 tion. Finding the chef de gare I demanded if there
 
 266 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 was any possibility of hiring a locomotive and catch- 
 ing the train that had left half an hour previous. 
 
 Satisfying himself after awhile that I was sane, 
 the official replied that such a proceeding was 
 unprecedented ; he had never heard of pursuing a 
 train in the manner proposed ; would it not be as 
 well to wait until the next morning and take the 
 regular conveyance? When I offered to pay any 
 price he would name for the accommodation he said 
 there was no schedule of rates for locomotives used 
 as train chasers and he should not know what to 
 charge me. In short, he would do nothing about it 
 whatever. 
 
 I was perspiring plentifully. Was there anything 
 else left ? Yes it struck me with a joyful sensa- 
 tion the telegraph ! 
 
 I wrote a message to "Miss Brixton, on board 
 train for Constantine, at Robertville," to make sure 
 and allow for delay, that place being twenty-nine 
 miles from Piiillippeville. I told her to alight at the 
 first station where the guard said there was a half- 
 decent hotel ; to remain there in the utmost seclusion 
 till I arrived the next morning ; and to telegraph me 
 as soon as possible what town she had selected. 
 
 "The man you dread to meet has gone to Con- 
 stantine before you," I added,, in explanation. " To 
 prove that I know this let me tell you who he is 
 your husband." 
 
 The answer came in due time, to my delight. She 
 would alight at Conde Smendou. 
 
 So far, so good. I was sufficiently relieved to 
 make a toilet and go down to dinner. I ate heartily 
 and arose much refreshed from the table. Having 
 nothing else to do, as there was o other train till
 
 A DAT AT OONDE SMENDOU. 267 
 
 morning, I went down to the quay and watched th 
 departure of the Marseilles steamer. As I was turn- 
 ing back toward the town Maurice Fantelli came up 
 and addressed me. 
 
 " You did not sail, then ?" he remarked, with a 
 tone of slight surprise. 
 
 " No. I have been detained on a matter of 
 business. I may have to return to Constantine." 
 
 "Indeed ! I hope it will be by the morning train, 
 then," he answered, "as I have decided to take it 
 myself." 
 
 My ease vanished quickly. If there was anything 
 I did not want it was to have him see me on that 
 train. 
 
 There was nothing to do, however, but make the 
 best of it. I began to whistle and found that the 
 proverbial effect on my courage was forthcoming. 
 I then went to Maurice's hotel and played cards with 
 him, losing about two hundred francs, mainly 
 through the fault of my preoccupation. 
 
 In the morning I went early to the station and 
 selected a seat in a compartment that was already 
 full with that exception, thinking thus to rid myself 
 of the too close companionship I did not wish. But 
 Fantelli came to the door with a winning smile, 
 remarking that there was a whole side vacant in 
 another part of the train, and that he wished I would 
 come there and enjoy a cigar and a chat with him. 
 There was nothing to do but accept, for to refuse 
 would have savored of rudeness. The train started 
 with us in the closest proximity and, as it happened, 
 quite alone. 
 
 "You wonder, no doubt," remarked Maurice, 
 when we were well under way, " why I take such an
 
 268 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 interest in your fair American friend. It is more 
 than probable I shall be able to explain that fully 
 soon after we arrive at Constantine. A message 
 reached me this morning from M. Marline that is at 
 least consoling on one point. His friend is perfectly 
 satisfied with the statement you made regarding M. 
 Desmoulins. Not only was a quarrel avoided m 
 time, but the two gentlemen, who have had an 
 attachment of long standing for each other, have 
 met with all the amity imaginable. It only shows 
 how little is sometimes needed to kindle a great 
 fire, and how easily the right kind of chemicals will 
 put it out." 
 
 "It shows more than that, begging your pardon," 
 I replied. " It shows that much trouble may be 
 avoided by timely explanations, and that there is 
 little excuse for mystery among friends. I was 
 possessed of enough strands in this affair to make a 
 rope, if I had known how to combine them. For 
 instance, I accidentally overheard, at Boulogne-sur- 
 Mer, a part of the conversation you had with Miss 
 Brixton, coming down the height that evening. I 
 was not seeking it," I added, as I saw his quick 
 flush, " but you paused within a few feet of me and 
 your words were quite distinct. It is now clear that 
 you were telling Miss Brixton that you knew of her 
 marriage ; and that the mayor you alluded to was 
 the mayor of Constantine. What I do not yet com- 
 prehend is her statement that what you told her 
 * could not be good law.' She acted to me in the 
 light I now have like one who was disposed to dis- 
 pute your claim. She said also that she had not 
 understood French at the time, which was certainly- 
 true. If I were to piece these things together I
 
 A DAT AT OOKDB SMENDOU. 269 
 
 should say that the marriage at Constantine was 
 perpetrated in much the same manner as the one 
 attempted before the priest at La Trappe." 
 
 Fantelli's silence for the next few minutes was of 
 that kind which is more eloquent than any noise. 
 
 " If that were true," he said, at last, " would she 
 have gone with him to his prison and accepted the 
 position of a wife without concealment or equivoca- 
 tion ?" 
 
 " I think so," I replied. " You must remember all 
 the rest you have heard of this remarkable youn| 
 woman." 
 
 He paused again, as if trying to bring his thoughti 
 together. 
 
 " That is the trouble," he said. " What y<*/ told 
 M. Martine and he has told me is like & U.ie of 
 romance. I cannot bring myself to feel that it 
 ought to be taken into serious consideration. It is 
 so unlike anything I have ever heard of so differ- 
 ent from anything in the feminine nr.md, as we are 
 taught to understand its workings that my mind 
 utterly fails to grasp it. One thing I can swear: 
 Whatever the lady believed or disbelieved, the man 
 she married was ^honest in that transaction. At 
 La Trappe he did act a double part but he knew 
 that without the civil ceremony It would count for 
 nothing, and he had no intention of taking advan- 
 tage of it except to bring a moral pressure on the 
 one he adored. At Constantine he was in the most 
 serious of moods. An execution stared him in the 
 face. He wanted the right to leave his property to 
 the beautiful creature who had gained his heart, 
 and he satisfied himself through an interpreter that 
 She consented to the arrangement. That she would
 
 270 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 have wedded him under other circumstances he had 
 reason to doubt ; but he accepted her like a ray of 
 sunshine in his sombre path for the few days he 
 thought remained. I could tell you other things, 
 and I hope soon to do so, which would convince 
 even the most skeptical that if the lady was deceived 
 it was not by him." 
 
 I could make nothing of this, and bluntly asked 
 who else could have had an interest in the matter. 
 
 " I shall find out, when I reach Constantine," he 
 replied, with a touch of the grim quality I had noted 
 in him several times previously. His tone implied 
 that it would be far from agreeable to the party im- 
 plicated if the guilt could be brought to his door. 
 *' We shall go to the Hotel de Paris together, I 
 hope," he added, " and perhaps in a few hours we 
 may all arrive at a mutual understanding." 
 
 I was sorry not to be able to oblige him, but a 
 prior engagement was to prevent. At Conde Smen- 
 dou I made an excuse to alight, remarking that I 
 wanted to stretch my legs and take a look at the 
 place. 
 
 " It's a dull hole," he said, as I left the carriage. 
 " You'll find nothing here worth seeing, I assure 
 you." 
 
 But in this M. Fantelli was mistaken. One of the 
 first things I saw was Gustave, with whom I took 
 a brief walk which brought me into Miss Brixton's 
 presence just as the train for Constantine was dis- 
 appearing around the curve beyond.
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE. 271 
 
 MISS BRIXTON'S CONFESSION. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE. 
 
 Blanche closed the door that would make us safe 
 from eavesdroppers and sat down opposite to me. 
 Her face was pale but determined. She had evi- 
 dently not slept well the previous night. Little 
 things tell the condition of a woman's mind. 
 Through all the troubles she had had before that 
 morning I had never found her in a state resemblmg 
 untidiness. Now I could see at a glance that her 
 hair had not felt a comb since she rose from her 
 bed. 
 
 " We must throw aside all circumlocution," she 
 said, looking me straight in the eyes. "I shall con* 
 ceal nothing and I expect the same of you." 
 
 At last ! 
 
 " How did you know my * husband ' as he calif 
 himself was in Constantine ?" 
 
 " I was told so by a friend of his, yesterday.** 
 
 Miss Brixton's full bosom rose and fell rapidly. 
 
 " What is he doing there ?" she asked next. 
 
 Then I had to tell a long story. Reminding her 
 of the incident I had mentioned at La Trappe, I 
 continued, telling of the sudden departure of M, 
 Marline for France, of my telegrams to Louis Des- 
 moulins, of his meeting wirh me at Constantine, of 
 my accusations, and of his complete exoneration.
 
 278 OUT or WEDLOCK. 
 
 " What ever made yout hink It was he?'* Blanche 
 asked, with a sudden rush of ruddy color. 
 
 "Many things," I replied, with some asperity. 
 " You may remember that I reached that conclusion 
 when you first arrived at Boulogne, and that I told 
 you of it. And what did you say ? That it was 
 untrue, that I was in error? Nothing of the kind. 
 I remember very well what you said and all you said. 
 It was comprised in the one word, ' Oh?" 
 
 She stretched her arms above her head and 
 brought her hands for one brief moment over both 
 her eyes. Then she resumed her ordinary attitude, 
 and bade me proceed. 
 
 " Very well," I said. " This M. Marline, having 
 gathered from what I told him that Col. Desmou- 
 Hns was your child's father, goes post-haste to Dijon 
 with his friend, the man who now is, or shall we say, 
 calls himself your husband. Not finding M. Des- 
 moulins there, they trace him to Marseilles and 
 thence to Phillippeville. In some way you seem 
 to have learned of his presence, but while you were 
 thinking of going back to Constantine to escape him, 
 he was already there, looking not for you, but for 
 M. Desmoulins, whose blood he wanted, and wanted 
 badly. Luckily I happened to learn of his errand 
 yesterday, and the telegraph played another part in 
 the affair. This * husband ' of yours is now satisfied, 
 it appears, that his friend Louis has committed no 
 offense against him or you. If you had given me 
 the least confidence," I concluded, in my own de- 
 fense, *' none of these things could have happened." 
 
 Miss Brixton nodded, to show that she would not 
 attempt to controvert my assertion. 
 
 *You forget so much," she said, wearily. "In
 
 A GENTLEMAN OP FRANCS. 273 
 
 your heart of hearts I am to you a woman lost to 
 all sense of delicacy, if not of shame. You never 
 will understand the depth of the sentiment that 
 made me resolve to be a mother but no wife. I de- 
 spair of making anyone comprehend it, and some- 
 times I almost wish I had endured my cross as other 
 women do, without seeking to establish a little 
 heaven of my own on this earth. I have tried and 
 I have failed. The mayor of Constantine tells me 
 the record pronounces M. Fantelli my husband, and 
 that, according to human law, the child I have con- 
 sidered wholly mine is equally his if he chooses to 
 claim it." 
 
 Rising from the chair I occupied I took a step 
 nearer the speaker, before I realized what I was 
 doing. Fantelli ! Which of us had lost his senses ? 
 Fantelli ! It could not be, for he himself had told 
 me the husband was at Constantine, while he and I 
 were discussing the matter in his hotel at Phillippe- 
 ville. 
 
 " M. Fantelli ! Your husband !" I gasped. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! Didn't you know !" exclaimed Miss 
 Brixton, in the most charming confusion. 
 
 " But I don't understand he was not at Con- 
 stantine at all he came on the train with me this 
 morning !" 
 
 It was now the lady's turn to snow astonish- 
 ment. More than that, she exhibited decided 
 fear, and her eyes wandered to an inner door, be- 
 hind which I rightly guessed Master Wallace was 
 hidden 
 
 " M. Fantelli came to Conde Smendou with 
 you !" she cried. 
 
 * 4 Yes; but not to stop. I escaped him. He has
 
 274 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 gone on to Constantine, where he supposed I would 
 accompany him. He does not know you are in 
 Africa at least I think not," I added. " It was he 
 who told me that your husband was at Constantine, 
 that he had gone there to meet M. Desmoulins. I 
 am more at sea than ever." 
 
 Blanche heaved a sigh of relief from a danger she 
 had thought nearer. 
 
 "You are certain he went on with the train ?" she 
 asked. " He could not have alighted here without 
 your knowledge ?" 
 
 " I am quite certain." 
 
 She took a guidebook from the table and con- 
 sulted it. 
 
 ''The first station is Bizot, thirteen kilometres 
 away," she mused. " The next steamer leaves Phil- 
 lippeville to-morrow evening. We may escape him 
 yet." 
 
 I could do no less than acquiesce. But I begged 
 her to tell me her story, in something like consecu- 
 tive form. 
 
 Although her mind was fully made up to this, she 
 hesitated for several minutes, before beginning the 
 recital. In the meantime, she went to the next room 
 and brought Wallace in for me to see. When I had 
 admired him sufficiently, she started to take him 
 back to his nurse, but thought better of it and sat 
 down with him in her lap, as if his presence would 
 help her to the courage and strength she needed. 
 
 " I will do the best I can," she said, at last. " But 
 
 I shall make the story as brief as possible, and omit 
 
 everything you already know, except such matters 
 
 as are necessary to give continuity to the narrative." 
 
 I bowed, and she began again.
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF FRANOB. 275 
 
 M It was two years ago last October," she said, 
 * that I first met M. Fantelli at a hotel in a certain 
 city in the south of Spain. I had recently dis- 
 charged a courier with whom I had left Paris and 
 was travelling alone with a maid. There was trouble 
 over a bill which was so extortionate that I refused 
 point-blank to pay it. I could not speak Spanish, 
 and neither could my maid, and I was resolved not 
 to be imposed upon so grossly as the landlord had 
 attempted. A gentleman whom I had seen at table 
 in the dining-room noticed my dilemma, and in the 
 most courteous manner addressed me in French, 
 asking if he could render any assistance. I bade 
 my maid explain the situation to him, upon which 
 he had some warm words with the proprietor of the 
 hotel, the result being that the charge against me 
 was reduced to proper dimensions. Having accom- 
 plished this he lifted his hat, bade me adieu, and 
 went his way. So far there had been nothing 
 between us but such a courtesy as a man may ren- 
 der at any time, in any country, to a woman in dis- 
 tress." 
 
 Miss Brixton paused, drew a long breath, kissed 
 Wallace, glanced at me to note my expression, which 
 was imperturbable, and then proceeded : 
 
 " The next city at which I stopped with my maid 
 was a port at which I was to take ship for Oran. I 
 uranted a courier and was about to engage one who 
 presented himself when my newly-made friend, M. 
 Fantelli, appeared again. Learning from my maid 
 that I thought of hiring the fellow he urged her to 
 advise me against it, saying that he knew him to be 
 unreliable and dishonest. He recommended, in his 
 place, an Oriental named Ali, who had just finished
 
 276 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 a tour with another American lady, to whom ae 
 referred me. His advice was followed, and my 
 thanks were conveyed to him. At this time I sup- 
 posed the meeting was our last. Understand, he had 
 never spoken to me directly except once, and that I 
 could not comprehend or reply to him. All he had 
 said was to Mathilde. But he had rendered me two 
 important services." 
 
 I bowed. If there were questions I wanted to 
 ask I knew the wiser way was not to interrupt her. 
 She kissed the child again, lying against her breast 
 with eyes wide open, as if he wanted to hear the 
 story too. 
 
 " In the evening, when out at sea, M. Fantelli 
 came upon the deck where I was. He looked sur- 
 prised, I thought annoyed, and made no attempt to 
 intrude himself upon me. Mathilde asked Ali about 
 him, and that was the first time we learned his name. 
 He was, it appeared, a French gentleman of 
 fortune, who had travelled extensively, and now 
 held a commission in the Algerian army. At Oran 
 we lost him. While we remained in that town and 
 vicinity about a week he went directly to Algiers, 
 But the second day after we reached the latter place 
 we saw him again. It was at a review, and he was 
 with his regiment." 
 
 A reminiscent expression crossed the face of the 
 narrator at this point, and I listened intently for 
 what was to follow. 
 
 *He saw me, and Ali called my attention to him. 
 After that he appeared before me nearly every day, 
 in some way or other. Sometimes he dined at the 
 Hotel de 1'Oasts, with a group of officers. One even- 
 ing I recognized in his party a gentleman to whom
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE. 277 
 
 I had been introduced in France a relation of a lady 
 whom I knew at home. After dinner this gentleman 
 spoke to me, and, as we were conversing, M. Fantelli 
 passed. 'Allow me to present my friend,' said the 
 America-n, and the formality was achieved. But 
 knowing nothing of each other's languages, this 
 seemed of little moment. I am sure I thought 
 nothing of it, and I should have left Algiers with 
 only the faintest memory of M. Fantelli had he not 
 sent me this letter." 
 
 The missive which she handed me was in French, 
 written in a bold hand and with unusually clear 
 chirography. It was a plain, straightforward pro- 
 posal of marriage. 
 
 " You will wonder," said the letter, *' at the extreme 
 temerity of a man who has only met you once in a 
 formal way; but I love you, mademoiselle. I have oo 
 patience to wait till I can acquire the tongue you 
 speak, nor to take the slow and toilsome path that 
 winds through the ordinary road to matrimony. I 
 enclose a list of references as to my standing and 
 reputation. I am a gentleman to whose family and 
 fortunes you need not be ashamed to ally yourself. 
 Trite as the expression may appear, it is the first 
 time I have ever cared for a woman. Take time for 
 your answer, if it is necessary, but at least give me 
 the opportunity to meet you again, even should it be 
 on terms of friendship alone." 
 
 I am not quoting the letter literally, but its pur- 
 port was to the effect I have stated. 
 
 **This letter," continued Miss Brixton, when I had 
 finished reading it, " aroused my interest still more 
 in the gentleman. I had not the slightest idea of 
 falling in love with him, and my aversion to matri*
 
 278 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 mony was too firmly fixed to enable me to give him 
 the answer he desired. But I had Mathilde indite 
 for me a kind note, declining his offer and saying 
 that I would be glad, nevertheless, to have him call 
 on me at any time. After this was written it occurred 
 to me that a meeting at the hotel would attract 
 attention. I had the maid tear up that note and 
 write another, containing only the declination and a 
 statement that I would try to see him at some time 
 to be decided later. 
 
 " It happened that while I was going to La Trappe, 
 to visit the monastery, a carriage containing M. Fan- 
 telli overtook mine. The meeting was entirely acci- 
 dental. He saluted me in answer to my bow and 
 when the horses were stopped for a rest he came and 
 spoke to me by the wheel of my vehicle. AH inter- 
 preted his remarks, which were most courteous and 
 respectful. Before we started again he requested 
 permission to ride with myself and the courier, and 
 it was granted, Mathilde taking the seat he had 
 Vacated in his carriage. Our conversation, carried 
 on through the interpreter, was necessarily slow, but 
 I found him interesting and learned much of the 
 country through which we were passing and of 
 Algeria in general during the next few hours. At 
 the monastery a brother took us in charge and we 
 visited the points usually shown to travellers, finish- 
 ing with a light lunch. Then, Ali told me that I 
 might see a mystical ceremony in the chape4 if I 
 chose to accompany the priest and M. Fantelli,and I 
 went with eagerness. In the midst of this cere- 
 mony, to which Mathilde guided my responses, con- 
 sisting only of the word ' Out,' there was a pause. 
 The monk ceased to speak to us, and stepping into
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF FBANOE. 279 
 
 the courtyard called out something in a loud voice. 
 Mathilde and M. Fantelli exchanged a dozen sen- 
 tences, all of course Greek to me, and then we 
 hastened to our carriages and drove away. All I 
 could learn was that something had angered the friar 
 and that it was best for us to leave at once. The 
 true cause I never dreamed of until you told me the 
 conversation you had with Monsieur Monsieur " 
 
 " Martine ?" I interrupted. 
 
 " Monsieur Martine. It now appears that a mar- 
 riage service was being repeated and that the words 
 I was interpolating were promises to love, honor and 
 obey for the rest of my life a man I had recently 
 refused. The ceremony would not have made me a 
 wife in the eyes of the law without being supple- 
 mented by another from the civil authority, but it is 
 none the less startling to think I should have been 
 drawn into anything of the kind. Suspecting noth- 
 ing, I returned to Algiers and parted with M. Fan- 
 telli just before entering the city." 
 
 I wanted to ask about Marline's part in this affair, 
 but I thought it best to let her finish her story 
 first. 
 
 "A few days later," continued Blanche, arranging 
 Wallace in a more comfortable position (he having 
 fallen asleep in her lap), " I went to Bougie. M. 
 Fantelli, to my surprise, joined us there. He had 
 been ordered to make a tour of some of the fort- 
 resses, and his proposition to take our party with 
 him was accepted with little hesitation, affording 
 such a fine opportunity to get at the inside of things 
 in that semi-civilized land. I had Ali and Mathilde,, 
 besides my own strength and courage, and I felt 
 sure at that time that M. Fantelli was one of the
 
 280 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 most perfect gentlemen that ever breathed. During 
 the next month my journey was made as agreeable 
 as possible. Every point of interest was visited, and 
 under such auspicious circumstances as few travel- 
 lers enjoy. I grew to like the French gentleman 
 very much. I trusted him, above all. His kind- 
 nesses, in the face of the refusal I had sent him, 
 were remarkable. And in all this time he neither 
 spoke nor wrote anything that would re-open the 
 subject of his love for me. He was courteous, 
 attentive, thoughtful, but never obtrusive. If I had 
 not been so determined never to marry, I might 
 have relented in the face of such admirable 
 conduct. 
 
 " But my story is getting long, Mr. Medford. Are 
 you certain it is not tiring you ?" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 "IF YOU HAD SEARCHED THE WORLD.'* 
 
 Assuring her briefly on this point, I waited for 
 her to proceed. Tired ! I had never felt 1 less so in 
 nay life. 
 
 " I returned to Algiers before M. Fantelli, and for 
 a week did not see him. Then there came the most 
 appalling misfortune, from which all our misery has 
 arisen. I will choose the fewest words possible, for 
 the remembrance makes me suffer horribly. I 
 went one afternoon, upon invitation, to visit tht 
 barracks where M. Fantelli's regiment was quar
 
 **IF YOU HAD SEARCHED THE WORLD." 281 
 
 tered. I was accompanied inside the buildings onl) 
 by Mathilde, leaving AH in the carriage. A young 
 officer came to meet us, and announcing to me, 
 through Mathilde, that he was M. Fantelli's brother, 
 invited us into a parlor to await that gentleman, 
 who was momentarily expected. While we were 
 there a colonel it was M. Desmoulins " 
 
 Blanche shuddered, and for an instant acted as if 
 she could not continue. 
 
 " M. Desmoulins," she repeated, " came in. He 
 was partially intoxicated, and before any of us had 
 the least idea what he meant to do he had reeled to 
 my side of the room and, with an expression that 
 Mathilde would never repeat, but which must have 
 been wholly objectionable, placed his hands roughly 
 on my shoulders. Instantly, as it seemed to me, 
 there was a loud report and the colonel fell at my 
 feet with a groan. The shooting had been performed 
 on the spur of the moment, by M. Fantelli's brother, 
 who would have fired a second time, had I not had 
 the presence of mind to spring in front of him and 
 grasp his arm. He was insane with rage. Mathilde 
 and I together could not keep him from kicking the 
 prostrate and apparently senseless form on the floor, 
 upon which he would have wreaked still further ven- 
 geance, but for our combined efforts. In the midst 
 of this tableau, M. Fantelli entered the room." 
 
 I could not help speaking, in the interval which 
 Miss Brixton took to recompose her nerves, shaken 
 at the fearful recollections. 
 
 " But I always understood certainly he told me 
 so that Maurice fired the shot himself !" 
 
 " So he did ; it was Maurice I have tried to make 
 that plain enough. M. Fantelli had not yet arrived,
 
 OITT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 but he came in a moment too late. There lay Des- 
 moulins, to all appearances a dead man. There stood 
 the brother, with us two women between him and 
 the colonel, the revolver still smoking in his hand, 
 and his face convulsed with passionate anger. 
 Luckily the noise had attracted no attention, for the 
 sound of firearms is too common in a military post 
 to be noticed. The first act of M. Fantelli was to 
 lock the door by which he had entered. The second 
 was to take the pistol from his brother. The third 
 was to beg me to be seated, as I could tell he did 
 by the motion which he made toward a chair. 
 And the fourth was to ask Mathilde to give him, as 
 quickly as possible, an explanation of the affair." 
 
 Ah ! What a complicated story ! Each hundred 
 words of it offered some new puzzle. It was not Mau- 
 rice, then, who had made an offer of marriage to 
 Miss Brixton, who had piloted her over the prov- 
 inces of Algeria and Constantine, but Maxime, 
 who had now gone to Constantine, and Maurice was 
 to meet him there. It was Maxime who was the 
 "friend " of M. Martine, and the husband of Blanche, 
 and the father of Wallace. 
 
 Heavens ! How many men I had accused of that 
 child's paternity ! 
 
 "M. Fantelli was very grave at this moment," 
 continued Miss Brixton. " The duty of an officer 
 who had discovered a crime overcame for an instant 
 every other feeling. Maurice essayed to speak, but 
 he was sternly commanded to keep silence. He was 
 no longer a brother, but an officer of inferior rank. 
 In fifty words Mathilde told exactly what had 
 happened, and the change wrought in M. FanteHi's 
 Countenance was terrible. He strode to the wounded
 
 "IF TOTT HAD SEARCHED THE WORLD." 283 
 
 man and, turning him over roughly, hissed in his 
 ear that he had received just punishment. Then 
 he went up to Maurice and clasped him wildly in 
 his arms, tears streaming down both his cheeks. 
 
 " Desmoulins was conscious, and began to speak 
 in low but audible tones. I learned from Mathilde 
 what he was saying. He believed his wound mor- 
 tal, but made no attempt to defend his act or to 
 accuse his assailant. ' Fly, Maurice !' he whispered. 
 * You can get the evening steamer for Italy. It was 
 the brandy that did it, my friend, not I ! Leave me, 
 all of you, and reveal nothing till Maurice is free ! 
 Go, go ; for the love of God !' 
 
 "M. Fantelli, upon recovering himself, turned to 
 me and spoke rapidly. I must re-enter my carriage 
 and drive to the hotel without delay. He would 
 trust me to keep secret the affair that had led his 
 brother into this deplorable action. It would be 
 best for me to leave Algiers in the morning, lest I 
 should be summoned as a witness and put to incon- 
 venience. 'Tell her, Mathilde,' he said, as we were at 
 the door, ' that I love her, that I never did and 
 never shall love another, but my duty now is to 
 Maurice ! When he is safe, I trust to meet her 
 again.' " 
 
 Miss Brixton's story was weakening her. I took 
 the sleeping boy from her arms and laid him on a 
 sofa. Pouringout a glass of wine, I made her sip it, 
 and presently she was able to proceed : 
 
 " In the morning, as advised, we left Algiers. 
 We took the train and stopped at various places 
 where we had been before, till we reached Constan- 
 tine. I bought the papers daily, and after awhile 
 discovered an item to the effect that Col. Desmou.
 
 284 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 lins had been found badly, probably fatally, 
 wounded, and that M. Fantelli had ' confessed his 
 guilt !' Mathilde prevented my going to Algiers 
 and telling the truth, by saying that it was un- 
 doubtedly a ruse to enable Maurice to get far 
 enough away before the truth was revealed. This 
 proved to be a correct guess. For the sake of ren- 
 dering his brother's escape certain, M. Fantelli was 
 willing to risk his own hfe. Desmoulins had, how- 
 ever, no intention, as i have since learned, of allow- 
 ing him to run any actual danger. He entered into 
 the plot as far as he dared, but being a hospital 
 patient he could act orfiy through others. M. Fan- 
 telli was brought to Constantino for confinement, 
 to await the result of his colonel's injuries. Then I 
 learned, by means of Ali, that he was likely to be 
 shot, whether Desmouiins recovered or not, as mili- 
 tary law is very severe on such matters, and it was 
 thought best to make an example to curb riotous 
 spirits. 
 
 " I sent word to the prison that my evidence and 
 that of my maid was at his disposal. In response I 
 received an invitation to come to see the prisoner, 
 but when I reached the gates I was informed that 
 admission was refused. Then began the acts for 
 which I reproach M. Fantelli. Ali had been his 
 servant in other days and could be as easily con- 
 trolled by him as his right hand. The courier came 
 to me with a plausible story, saying that there was 
 but one way to soothe the confinement of this 
 gentleman, who had put himself in such a dilemma. 
 I must go with him before the mayor and state that 
 we were betrothed. If I would consent to do that I 
 would occupy the position accorded to relations by
 
 "IF YOU HAD SEARCHED THE WORLD." 285 
 
 blood, and could go and come through the fortress 
 gates when I pleased. 
 
 "I did not at once consent. But I thought the 
 pretence a justifiable one and listened to Ali's argu- 
 ments in its favor till he carried the day. M. Fan- 
 telli was brought out under a guard and I went into 
 the mayor's presence with him, answering as directed 
 by my courier to the questions asked me. I con- 
 sidered it merely a pious fraud, justifiable under the 
 circumstances. When I went to the prison with him 
 the paper he had obtained opened the door to me 
 also. And well it might, for the mayor has since 
 informed me that it was nothing more nor less than 
 a certificate of our marriage !" 
 
 Overcome again by her feelings, Miss Brixton 
 as I could do no less than call her, in spite of her 
 Story arose and began to pace slowly up and down 
 the room. 
 
 " I could not take Mathilde with me, but I had no 
 fear. The first night I returned to the hotel. The 
 next M. Fantelli was ill and I stayed to care for him. 
 Then I had my deposition taken and despatched to 
 the judge who presided at the investigation, but I 
 was never sent for. The authorities, it turned out, 
 knew very well that Fantelli was innocent, and only 
 held him in order that his brother might be induced 
 to return. To keep up the delusion he was notified 
 one day that he had but a few weeks to live. The 
 French papers were filled with similar announce- 
 ments. To him and to me it was a reality. When I 
 next went to him it was with a kiss ! We can be 
 very affectionate with the dying. In a few days 
 those lips would be cold ! I gave myself into his 
 arms, praying God to forgive me if it was wrong !"
 
 286 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 She was weeping softly now. 
 
 "I did not soon leave him," she sobbed, "though 
 I knew nothing of the record that justified me in the 
 sight of men. I was possessed with a wild anxiety 
 to save him, although I knew not how. I sent Ali 
 to the Governor-general, to the judges, to everybody 
 who might have influence, all to no purpose. They 
 must have laughed at my efforts, possessed as they 
 were of the truth. Desmoulins, feeling sure that 
 Maurice was safe, had told everything. There was 
 nothing more I could do and I could not bear to 
 stay for his death. I resolved on sudden flight ! 
 
 " Having no longer any wish to be accompanied 
 by the servants who recalled such memories, I left 
 Constantino without even saying farewell to them. 
 Their wages, together with three months each in 
 advance, I left for them, and went as fast as possible 
 to Spain. The rest of my story you know." 
 
 There was a pause of some seconds. Blanche 
 sipped the wine that stood on the table, drying at 
 the same time the tears that remained in her eyes. 
 Suddenly she threw herself into the chair she had 
 vacated, and leaned toward me with clasped hands. 
 
 "What do you think of me?" she asked, beseech- 
 ingly. "Am I bad, wicked, shameful? Ought I to 
 be shunned by all who claim virtue ? Is that boy on 
 the sofa a witness to my dead womanhood ? Or is 
 there, anywhere in your mind, an excuse for me ?" 
 
 *' I could find one, if my suspicion is true," I 
 answered, gravely. " But when I have told you, 
 you will not acknowledge it." 
 
 Her swollen eyelids, heavy with weeping, were 
 raised questioningly. 
 
 " You loved that man !" I said, curtly.
 
 "IT YOTJ HAD SEARCHED THE WORLD." 287 
 
 " No ; oh, no !" she answered. " I was only sorry 
 for him. His brother had tried to defend me from 
 the slurs of a drunken brute, and through this his 
 own life was, as I thought, in peril." 
 
 I shook my head slowly. 
 
 " This is the first opinion I have expressed since I 
 have known you, Blanche," I said. " I tell you 
 again, you loved him. You love him now !" 
 
 "Now!" She sat upright and stared at me. 
 "Now! When I know that he bribed my courier 
 and maid, to entrap me !" 
 
 I motioned her to be quiet and to listen. 
 
 " I am sure that he did neither of those things," I 
 said. " Maurice swears to me that his brother be- 
 lieved the marriage your free act. It must have 
 been the courier (so devoted to his former master's 
 interests, that he took the responsibility on himself) 
 who arranged the fraud. Everything I have heard 
 of M. Fantelli stamps him as a true gentleman. He 
 offered himself to you in the most honest and open 
 manner. When refused, he acted the part of a 
 straightforward, high-minded man. Remember how, 
 during the month when he piloted you through 
 the country, he refrained from spoiling your pleas, 
 ure by renewing his overtures. He risked his life 
 to save that of his brother. When you deserted him 
 he forbore to pursue you, saying that your happi- 
 ness was greater in his eyes than his own. Hearing 
 that Desmoulins had violated the friendship renewed 
 between them, he crossed the sea, to call him to a 
 swift account for the harm to your good name. 
 Would such a man intrigue with a courier to draw 
 you into a false marriage ? Never ! I once heard 
 you say that you would have for a father to your
 
 288 our or WEDLOCK. 
 
 child only one who was honorable, pure, uprigru 
 and brave. If you had searched the world over, you 
 could not have found a man who better answered 
 the description !" 
 
 She was silenced, and I thought a faint ray of joy 
 came into her pale face. 
 
 " He loves you," I repeated, '* and you love him. 
 That may not justify, but it certainly palliates your 
 conduct." 
 
 But she insisted in saying, no, no ! She did not 
 love him. She did not want to be a wife. She 
 would never share her child with his father. And, 
 catching up the guidebook again, she began to plan 
 the way of escape from the province. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIIL 
 
 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 
 
 Our plan was to remain in perfect quiet at Conde 
 Smendou until the next afternoon, and then to take 
 the train that connected with the steamer at Phil- 
 lippeville. We were reasonably certain not to see 
 anyone we had ever known in that little half-Moorish 
 settlement. In the evening Blanche talked de- 
 lightedly of home, of good Dr. Robertson, the Drews 
 and her other acquaintances. We would return to 
 them and never leave America again. If it should be 
 claimed by her lawyers that she was legally married 
 she could apply for a divorce on account of " deser- 
 tion," or " non-support," or some of the other 
 convenient reasons, and relieve herself of the night-
 
 CAUGHT IN A TEAP. 289 
 
 mare that would hang over her as long as any man 
 had the shadow of a claim on her boy. I let her 
 talk on, without much interruption, though I felt 
 that she was disposed to be rather unjust to M. 
 Fantelli, whose conduct in this entire matter appealed 
 to my love of the chivalrous. I should be nearly as 
 glad as she to reach New York again, and calculated 
 that we ought to accomplish the journey in about 
 two weeks, if everything went favorably. 
 
 There was no incident worthy of note during the 
 night. The next day we arrived at Phillippeville, 
 and were driven without delay to the steamer. Miss 
 Bdxton went at once to her stateroom and remained 
 there until we were out at sea, and I did the same in 
 mine, having some writing that I wished to ac 
 complish. We were the last persons to dine, though 
 the passenger list was a small one, and after dinner, 
 it being then about half-past eight o'clock, we went 
 to the deck for a little promenade. 
 
 It was a fine night. The Mediterranean was at 
 its best. The air was at that happy stage when a 
 degree warmer or colder could not be desired. The 
 waves were only slightly ruffled by the breeze that 
 blew from the west. We had walked some time and 
 were debating whether we could do better than 
 continue in that occupation for the next hour, when 
 Master Wallace appeared in the arms of his maid 
 for his good-night kiss. As the little fellow was 
 wide awake and crowed joyfully at sight of his 
 mother, Blanche told the nurse to remain on the 
 deck for a time, and took the child in her lap. 
 
 While we were devoting our conversation to the 
 cause of all his mamma's joys and woes, two gentle. 
 men came up the companion way, and stopped,
 
 290 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 staring at us with astonishment written on their 
 faces. However surprised they may have been, we 
 were certainly no less so. They were Maurice Fan- 
 telli and M. Martine ! 
 
 Miss Brixton gave one quick glance about her, to 
 see if any feasible avenue of escape presented itself, 
 and then resigned herself to the inevitable. She 
 would have to meet these men. Her bosom swelled 
 with her emotions, as she pressed the child closer to 
 her heart, and she gave me a look that constituted 
 me her protector, whatever might be about to 
 occur. 
 
 Assuming as much indifference as possible in my 
 manner, I walked toward the new comers and 
 greeted them with a "Good-evening." For a 
 moment they could hardly summon enough sang 
 froid to reply. 
 
 " It is she !" whispered M. Martine, in a startlingly 
 distinct tone. 
 
 " Yes," said Maurice. 
 
 " And that" 
 
 " Is the child." 
 
 Then they begged my pardon, and hastened to 
 assure me that the meeting was totally unexpected 
 to them. 
 
 * I knew you must have left the train purposely, 
 at Conde Smendou," said Maurice, with dignity, 
 ** because you did not come to Constantine on the 
 next one. That was, however, your own affair. I 
 did not know I did not think for a moment that 
 you were on this boat." 
 
 M. Martine hastened to add his testimony to this 
 Statement. 
 
 *I assure you, monsieur, that this is true," he said,
 
 CA.FGHT IN A TRAP. 2S1 
 
 earnestly. " And I would thank you to say AS muck 
 to to madame !" 
 
 I wondered why M. Martine joined so earCestly in 
 this message to Miss Brixton, but I accepted hi* 
 statement with a bow. 
 
 " Where is your brother Maxime ?" I asked 
 Maurice. " Is he on the steamer with you ?** 
 
 "No," he answered, with a start. "Why do you 
 ask that ?" 
 
 " Perhaps it was the knowledge that she *' I indi- 
 cated Miss Brixton with a motion of my head 
 " would rather not see him.'* 
 
 Maurice and M. Martine looked at each other. 
 
 " Would rather not see Maxime !" interrupted 
 Maurice. "I did not know that she had any such 
 feeling." 
 
 The old trouble ! We never could seem to under- 1 
 Stand each other, quite. 
 
 " Do you imagine," I asked, '* that she is particu- 
 larly anxious, at this moment, to look on the face oi 
 her child's father ?'* 
 
 M. Martine strode a step forward, but Mauric* 
 grasped him firmly by the sleeve. 
 
 " Her child's father !" exclaimed the former, in 
 that fierce whisper of his. *' Who told you this ?'* 
 
 "Why," I responded, astounded, "she did, for 
 one. And " 
 
 Martine, throwing off the hand that would have 
 restrained him, took two steps more and his breath 
 was in my face. 
 
 " Retract that," he said, " or" 
 
 " For Heaven's sake !" interrupted Maurice, 
 "wait! She will hear you she will see that you
 
 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 / 
 
 arc quarrelling. Let me try to untangle this knot, 
 Jules a word ! I insist !" 
 
 With a powerful movement the speaker drew the 
 Other back and began to catechise me. 
 
 " What did madame say exactly ?" he asked. 
 "Quote her literal words, if you can." 
 
 Much perturbed I tried to answer him. 
 
 " She said why, you told me the same thing are 
 we all crazy ? that your brother was Wallace's 
 father." 
 
 Maurice gave his companion a wise look. Then 
 he said to me, " But she did not use the word 
 'Maxtme?'" 
 
 " I am not sure"; but what is the difference ? That 
 in your brother's name, is it not ?" 
 
 M. Marline could not be restrained. 
 
 " She said ' his brother,' and you thought she 
 /neant Maxime ?" 
 
 "Of course." 
 , M. Martine's face was wreathed in smiles. 
 
 " It is all explained, then," said Maurice, beaming 
 also. " I have two brothers, you see. It was the 
 other one." 
 
 The other one ! This made the fourth or fifth 
 person I had accused of being the father of that 
 unhappy child ! Was it to rest here, I wondered, or 
 were there still more to follow ! 
 
 " It was the other one," repeated Maurice, after 
 exchanging a pressure of the hand with his compan- 
 ion. " In short, it was Jules here, \vhom we have 
 been alluding to all the time as M. Martine. His 
 name is Jules Martine Fantelli, and it was to him 
 that the ceremony of marriage with your sweet
 
 CAUOHT IN A TRAP. 293 
 
 American friend took place in the mairie at Con- 
 stantine." 
 
 I glanced at Blanche, hugging her child to her 
 heart, at the other end of the deck, and her aspect 
 of alarm justified the revelation. So this was the 
 man she had dreaded to meet, that she had fled from 
 Phillippeville to avoid. And, after all her pains, we 
 were at sea with him, on a French vessel, in as pretty 
 a trap as could be imagined. Were he disposed to 
 assert his authority over her, there was no place 
 more suitable. We could rely only on his forbear- 
 ance. 
 
 " I am the husband of that lady and the father of 
 that boy," said Martine, slowly. '* Yet I have no 
 wish to claim them against their will. Now that vre 
 have met so unexpectedly, however, I would like to 
 talk long enough with Mme. Fantelli to disabuse her 
 mind of some of the things she has harbored against 
 me. M. Medford, I want, if possible, to set myself 
 right before my wife. Will you tell her that for 
 me?" 
 
 Bowing assent, I left the gentleman and went to 
 Miss Brixton's side. 
 
 " I know what you are going to say,** she broke 
 out, "and I have made up my mind to refuse every- 
 thing." 
 
 This seemed so unjust that I was moved to a slight 
 deception. 
 
 " Has it occurred to you," I inquired, " that he can 
 do what he pleases on a vessel that flies the French 
 flag? But he asks very little. He only wants to 
 show you that you have charged him in your 
 thoughts with wrongs he never committed. He will 
 not deU-in you long, I think, judging from what he
 
 294 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 said to in<*> Is it not better to hear him now, ana 
 have it 4>ndtA ?" 
 
 When I alluded to M. Fantelli's rights, Miss Brix- 
 ton's lip grew firm and her independent spirit seemed 
 about to assert itself in some determined phrase. 
 When I changed and spoke of a matter of policy, 
 she hesitated and then agreed with me. 
 
 " Very well," she said, reflectively. " But do not 
 go far away. Stay where you can hear my voice if 
 I call you." 
 
 She spoke like a child afraid of some ordeal, who 
 wants the comforting assurance that its parent will 
 be close at hand. 
 
 " And Wallace ?" I suggested. " Had not his 
 nurse better take him to the stateroom ?" 
 
 She caught the child to her in sudden alarm. 
 
 " How can you think of such a thing ?" she 
 exclaimed. " He might have it stolen, while we 
 were talking. No, I will keep the baby here. 
 Wallace and I will meet this man together." 
 
 M. Jules thanked me when I brought the message 
 that he could have the desired interview, but he said 
 farther that he wanted me, by all means, to be a 
 participator in it. He realized, he said, that 
 madame would feel nervous if left in his sole pres- 
 ence, and he preferred that her pleasure should be 
 consulted in all things. Accordingly I accompanied 
 him to Miss Brixton's side of the boat. 
 
 M Blanche," I said, " this gentleman asks me to 
 listen to what he has to tell you, and I have con- 
 sented to do so, if it is your wish." 
 
 Miss Brixton I can call her nothing else, try as I 
 fnay changed to a rosy red at my words. She 
 turned her eyes toward me, avoiding those of M,
 
 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 295 
 
 ./antelli, and bowed. It was plain that she was 
 undergoing suppressed excitement of no ordinary 
 character that every nerve was at its severest ten- 
 sion. 
 
 When M. Fantelli began to speak a perceptible 
 thrill passed over her body. His English was 7ery 
 good, but strongly marked with the French ascent. 
 His voice was low and sweet, his intonation that ef 
 a man who has no higher wish than to speak the 
 truth. When I remembered that he had learned the 
 language within three years I thought he did 
 remarkably well. 
 
 " I hardly know how to address you, madame," he 
 said, " when I find you in this unexpected place, 
 with my child in your arms. If I do not make my 
 thoughts as plain as I could wish, you will remem- 
 ber that the situation is a trying one, as well for 
 me as for you. I am speaking a tongue of which 
 I did not know ten words when I met you, a little 
 over three years ago. I have learned it for the sole 
 purpose of conversing with you in it, if ever that 
 happiness should be mine." 
 
 He waited, apparently for some sign to guide him 
 in what he should say farther, but the wife's face 
 had no signal for him. The woman's eyes were 
 fixed on the figure of her child. 
 
 " I have learned," he proceeded, presently, " that 
 you accuse me of grave offenses. It is true that I 
 tried to have a religious service performed upon us 
 at the monastery, but I call Heaven to witness 
 that my intentions were the purest in the world. I 
 would have told you what had happened, explained 
 my reasons, and have left the rest to your judgment. 
 I was very much in love with you. I could not
 
 296 OUT OP WEDLOCK. 
 
 bring myself to believe that you would not !n time 
 reciprocate my affection. But, at Constantine I 
 swear to you before God ! I was as much deceived 
 as you. It was Ali's too great fondness for me that 
 led him into making the arrangements that he 
 thought would please me best. I accepted you, 
 before the law, as my true, wedded wife, with all 
 honesty. I had, as I believed, but a few days more 
 of earth. Indeed, your presence made me feel that 
 heaven's gates had already been opened. Then you 
 went away, and they came to tell me I was free ; 
 but I would rather have met the firing squad, with 
 your kiss on my lips. Yes, I assure you !" 
 
 I glanced at Blanche from time to time, and saw 
 that her mouth trembled. For myself I will not 
 deny my eyes were moist. Fantelli's tone was so 
 tender and his words so apt. 
 
 " I would like to know if you believe me," con- 
 tinued the speaker, pausing. 
 
 *' Yes, yes," came the scarcely audible answer. 
 
 " That encourages me," he said, brightening. 
 * And now that I have been the unfortunate means 
 of making you a wife, when you did not wish to be 
 one, what is there that I can do ? And the little 
 boy ? You do not give him my name, I have heard, 
 and you even call yourself * mademoiselle ' instead 
 of ' madame/ That is not right. It will not be 
 well for htm for the baby by-and-by. Also, he 
 must inherit my estate. If I were living with you as 
 your husband I would not have to say these things, 
 but you do not want me, I am afraid." 
 
 Blanche shook her head slowly, as if the cords of 
 her neck were swollen. 
 
 * You must have suffered from those who knew
 
 CAUGHT IK A TRAP. 297 
 
 you a mother and thought you no wife," he said, 
 very gently. " Let me at least go to your home 
 with you and tell them I am your husband. Let me 
 right you, my dearest one, before the slanderers. 
 Then, if you bid me, I will depart. And, in the 
 meantime, I will ask nothing of you." 
 
 The fair young head shook slowly again, but the 
 lips did not open. 
 
 "You will think better of it some day, Blanche," 
 said Fantelli, uttering her name as simply as the 
 rest of the words he was speaking. " And now, this 
 is all I wish to say to you at present. You do not 
 need to be told how true my love is, what suffering 
 I have to endure because I have lost you. You were 
 my wife for twenty blissful days. You know ; you 
 know ! And in all that time," he added, reminis- 
 cently, " there was nothing to show that you hated 
 me. Nothing." 
 
 Miss Brixton began to cry softly. Wallace per- 
 ceived it and put his hand to her cheek with the 
 single word, " Mamma !" 
 
 As Fantelli ceased, Blanche nerved herself for a 
 brief reply. She realized the necessity of saying 
 something that this terribly earnest man would 
 understand. 
 
 " Monsieur," she said, in a voice so low that we 
 had to bend forward to hear her. " If I were ca- 
 pable of loving any man I am sure it would be such 
 a one as you. But I cannot love a man. I can only 
 love a child. This infant has every drop of affection 
 that runs through my being. He and I want noth- 
 ing but each other. If you truly care for us, you 
 can best show it by leaving us entirely alone."
 
 298 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 M. Fantelli arose and stood, a very pathetic 
 picture, gazing upon his sweetheart and offspring. 
 
 " I shall do it, madame," he said, and his tone had 
 never sounded so musical. " From this moment you 
 will not see me again unless by some accident I can- 
 not prevent. I do not hold to the old views about 
 marriage. To me no love of woman is desirable 
 when it has to find its basis in duty alone. I will 
 send you my permanent address at Paris. Should 
 you ever want me, I will fly to you from any part of 
 the earth where I may happen to be. Unless I 
 receive such a message I shall never intrude myself 
 upon your presence. I only ask one thing now. 
 Let me kiss our child." 
 
 Impulsively for one second she drew the boy away 
 from him. Then she raised Wallace to the face of 
 his father. 
 
 " Adieu," said M. Fantelli. 
 
 " Adieu," murmured Miss Brixton. 
 
 As soon as the Frenchman had left the deck, 
 which he did immediately with his brother, Blanche 
 begged me to assist her to her stateroom. Her 
 strength had left her completely. The maid, who 
 had sat but a little way from us, came to carry the 
 child, and I had to do almost as much for its 
 mother. She leaned nearly her whole weight on me 
 and her breath came in quick, short gasps. 
 
 ** If it were not for my baby," she whispered to 
 me, on the way,j" I would throw myself into the sea. 
 I would never have believed myself capable of inflict- 
 ing such pain. Did you see his face when he kissed 
 Wallace ?' 
 
 I told her I did and that I pitied him sincerely. 
 
 " Not mre than I," she said, passionately, " not
 
 "HE LOOKS LIKE WALLACE." 
 
 more than I ! If there were only something I could 
 do for him ! But there is nothing nothing but to 
 become his wife, and that cannot be ! How he 
 must despise me, in h?s heart ! I despise myself, I 
 am sure. Oh, Wallace," she cried, " what have I not 
 endured for your sweet sake ! And you are still 
 mine all mine ! No one else can claim a hair of 
 your darling head !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 " HE LOOKS LIKE WALLACE." 
 
 We did not see Jules Fantelli again on that 
 steamer. Before we reached Marseilles Maurice 
 came to bid me farewell, but refrained from alluding 
 in any way to his brother. He gave me a hand that 
 trembled, and I knew well that the sufferings of the 
 husband and father were shared by this devoted 
 relation. Their fraternal a-ffection was of the 
 strongest kind, one that I have seldom seen paralleled. 
 I could not heip feeling that I had never met men 
 who appealed more to my sense of what brotherhood 
 ought to mean than these same gentlemen. 
 
 On the pier at New York we found good Dr. 
 Robertson awaiting us, accompanied by Mr. and 
 Mrs. Drew. Blanche's home was in perfect order 
 and she seemed like another child when she stepped 
 across the familiar threshold. Only the usual 
 Common-places had been exchanged in the carnage, 
 but now Blanche spoke to me with an earnestness
 
 300 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 that attested her sincerity, and bade me tell her 
 entire story to her friends as soon as I could find it 
 convenient. 
 
 "They may as well know now that the secret is 
 out," she said. 
 
 And that very evening, when Blanche was in her 
 private apartments with the baby, I outlined the 
 strange story I have given to you. 
 
 " Thank God she is a wife, after all !" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Drew, devoutly, when I had finished. "Thank 
 God that little Wallace is the offspring of a legiti- 
 mate union !" 
 
 " But she will never live with her husband," I said. 
 " She has positively refused to recognize him in any 
 way. The next thing likely is a divorce." 
 
 "That does not alter the case," replied the lady. 
 "She has conformed to the law. We can tell every- 
 one that their dreadful suspicions were untrue. It 
 relieves us of a terrible load, and I for one breathe 
 easier over this affair. Let her get the divorce, if 
 that is her wish. People will not blame her seriously. 
 Minnie had a divorce, you know, and now she is 
 married again." 
 
 " Indeed ! I had not heard of that." 
 
 " Oh, yes. To a very nice fellow, too. He was in 
 the same trouble as she, married to a woman he 
 could not get along with. So Minnie and he 
 arranged it. She promised to marry him as soon as 
 he was free, and a month ago they got the papers 
 and were joined by a clergyman the same evening. 
 She is quite happy at last, poor child !" 
 
 I thought of an expression that someone has 
 applied to our American system of divorce and re-
 
 "HE LOOKS LIKE WALLACE." 301 
 
 marriage, " consecutive polygamy." It seemed to fit 
 the present case excellently. 
 
 " Did she ever hear what became of Bartlett ?" I 
 inquired. 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Drew. *' He married an Illinois 
 lady, as soon as Minnie got her separation from him, 
 and I learn is spending a small fortune that she 
 had left her, as fast as he can. I shall feel so differ- 
 ent about Blanche," she added, returning to that 
 subject with evident satisfaction. " One can go any- 
 where with her now. If only she would call her- 
 self Madame What's-his-Name instead of ' Miss 
 Brixton.' I shall talk to her. She owes something 
 to those of us who have stood by her through alj 
 this affair. Don't you think she will give in that 
 much for our sakes, Mr. Medford ?" 
 
 I replied that I was very much in doubt of it; 
 that I saw nothing to give me any such impression 
 She was very proud of her name and wanted to regis 
 ter it on the steamer's passenger list with the words 
 "and child," added. The printer of the list haO 
 remedied what he took to be an error by changing 
 the "Miss" to "Mrs." But her entry was plain, 
 " Miss Blanche Brixton and child." 
 
 " Well, we will hope for the best," said Mrs. Dr*w, 
 with a sigh. " And you say this Mr. " 
 
 " Fantelli." 
 
 " He is a nice gentleman ?" 
 
 " One of the most perfect I ever met," I answered. 
 
 On my own account I began a correspondence 
 with M. Fantelli. I wanted to assure him of 
 the state of my feelings, and to let him know that 
 if I could at any time aid him in regaining his right- 
 ful position I should do so. Among other things
 
 302 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 I requested his photograph, explaining that I wisucd 
 to own it, in case anything happened to his wife and 
 I was left the guardian of his child. In due course 
 an answer came, breathing the same devotion to 
 those he loved that I had seen in his attitude on the 
 Mediterranean steamer, and with it the picture. He 
 mentioned in his letter that he was anxious to visit 
 America, and would be glad to see me, but intended 
 to avoid a meeting that might be disagreeable to his 
 wife. I answered that I would do all in my power 
 to make his stay in New York enjoyable, and finally 
 an answer came to this letter stating that Maurice 
 and he would sail on the Touraine on a date not far 
 distant. 
 
 Blanche seemed to have forgotten her intention of 
 securing a divorce, now that she had the sea between 
 her and her liege lord. Her life was spent in the 
 old way, mainly with her son. I took dinner with 
 them generally, by a sort of regular understanding,' 
 and one day at the table I took M. Fantelli's por- 
 trait from my pocket and handed it to Blanche. 
 
 To my surprise she made no fuss whatever. The 
 only thing noticeable was a quiver of the eyelashes, 
 as she remarked that the likeness was excellent. 
 
 " He is a splendid fellow !" she added, with enthu- 
 siasm. " Have you two of these ? I would like one 
 rery much." 
 
 I told her I had but one, but she should take it 
 with pleasure if she wished, for it was worth more 
 to her than to me. 
 
 "It is, indeed!" she replied. Then she called 
 the attention of the young gentleman in a high chair 
 by her side. " See here, Master Wallace, this is your 
 father. Is he not a handsome man ? And he's as
 
 "HB LOOKS LIKE WALLACE." 803 
 
 good as he is handsome. If you want to make your 
 mamma happy be as noble as he when you grow 
 up." 
 
 She accepted the picture and had it put in a frame 
 on her mantel. I was in her rooms one day when 
 Mrs. Clinton Eastlake formerly Miss Minnie Drew 
 and later Mrs. Bartlett was calling there. Minnie's 
 attention was called to the photograph, and she 
 casually inquired who it was. 
 
 "Oh, that?" said Blanche, raising her eyes. 
 "That is Wallace's father." 
 
 " M. Fantelli !" exclaimed the other, inspecting it 
 more closely. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " He looks very dignified," was Minnie's next com- 
 ment. " Not at all like I imagined him." 
 
 Blanche let her eyes fall longingly on the picture. 
 
 4< He is a good man," she said, simply. 
 
 " Ah !" 
 
 " Very good," repeated Blanche, absently. u He is 
 the best man I ever knew, except my father." 
 
 "I agree to that perfectly," I remarked. "And I 
 must add that Fate is too severe when it deprives 
 him of a wife and child he adores." 
 
 Miss Brixton was silent. She evidently did not 
 like to enter into a discussion in which she must 
 take the defensive. 
 
 " He looks like Wallace," said Minnie, regarding 
 the picture intently. " I should think you would 
 want him with you, Blanche, to help guide your 
 boy when he grows older. A father is needed then 
 a good father and no mother can fill his place." 
 
 Blanche turned toward us with both her hands 
 outstretched.
 
 304 OUT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 " Why are you all so cruel to me ?" she cried. 
 44 You know I have thought of all these things that 
 I would love to have him here for Wallace's sake- 
 and you know the insuperable obstacles in my way. 
 A father, yes, that is well enough. But to gain that 
 relation, M. Fantelli would have to assume also 
 that of a husband. To-day I am Blanche Brixton, 
 free, independent, my own mistress. Married, I 
 should be under the authority of one who could, if 
 he chose, make my life a hell ! It is well enough to 
 say that M. Fantelli would not do that, but who 
 knows ? There are people in menageries who place 
 their heads in the mouths of lions. For a number 
 of seasons they do this with impunity, and then, 
 without warning, the great jaws close. I cannot 
 bear to give even the best of men such rights over 
 me ! I cannot ; no, I cannot !" 
 
 Minnie looked at the speaker strangely. 
 
 "There is a difference in men," she said. "Mr. 
 Bartlett and Mr. Eastlake are both men, but such 
 a variation ! I do exactly as I like now, and I think 
 that is the way every wife should do." 
 
 Miss Brixton heard her impatiently. 
 
 "You do as you like because he lets you!" she 
 said. " When he takes the notion, you will do as^ 
 likes. I know how it is. Authority is vested by the 
 law in the man. Suppose I agreed to live with M. 
 Fantelli as his wife. Everything would go smoothly 
 for a number of weeks, perhaps. Then there would 
 come a day when he would say yes, and I would say 
 no. He would insist and I would insist. I would 
 put on my hat to leave the house, and he would 
 order me to take it off. Who would win ? He, of 
 course ! My father kept my mother a prisoner for
 
 "HE LOOKS LIKE WALLACE." 305 
 
 months because the law constituted him hr master. 
 I have too much spirit to endure that kind of servi- 
 tude. And I have no reason for surrendering my 
 liberty. At present I can eat when I like, drink 
 when I like, go to bed when I like, get up when I 
 like. I have no one to consult, no one to ask consent 
 of if I wish to take a trip to Fourteenth street oi 
 Tlemsen. A negro in Texas might as well demand 
 another statute that would consign him to slavery 
 as I to have the bonds of matrimony around my 
 unchained limbs." 
 
 When Minnie was gone I asked Blanche if she 
 remembered what I had told her at Conde Smendou, 
 and I repeated it. 
 
 "You love Fantelli," I said. "You love him, as 
 he loves you." 
 
 " Perhaps, perhaps," she answered. " But if I 
 worshipped him, I would refuse just as strongly to 
 be his wife. We could not live in that close 
 proximity without my wanting to assassinate 
 him." 
 
 Her half admission surprised me greatly. I was 
 encouraged to tell her that her husband was coming 
 to America on a tour of sight-seeing, and that I 
 wished she would invite him to visit her. 
 
 " He may come ; I would like to have him come," 
 she replied, without hesitation. " So long as he only 
 asks my friendship, I shall be much pleased to see 
 him." 
 
 When I repeated this to Dr. Robertson and asked 
 him what he thought of it, he shook his gray mane 
 savagely. 
 
 *' Don't put conundrums to me 1" he said. " I
 
 306 OUT OF fTEDLOCK. 
 
 used to think I knew something of the workings of 
 the human mind, but I don't ! !" 
 
 A month later I entered the Brixton house with 
 Jules Fantelli. Blanche came forward to greet us m 
 in a wonderfully self-possessed mood, and intro- 
 duced him to Dr. Robertson and Mrs. Drew, as " my 
 friend, M. Fantelli, that you have heard me speak of 
 so often." The Frenchman, much perturbed, 
 acknowledged the salutations that he received, and 
 acquitted himself admirably. If Blanche did not 
 fall in love with him, she was the only one of the 
 household of whom that could be said. Wallace 
 seemed to like him immensely. 
 
 When Jules left he received an invitation to call 
 again. The second time he was asked to remain to 
 dinner and to bring Maurice with him. 
 
 You cannot imagine a queerer party than we all 
 made, with this father, mother and child at one 
 table, under the very strange circumstances of the 
 case. Blanche addressed her husband as " Mon- 
 sieur," and he called her "Madame." The boy was 
 not well enough versed in any language to talk a 
 great deal, or he might have complicated matters 
 still more. Mrs. Drew was particularly sweet to 
 Jules. Stephen followed her lead, as usual. Dr. 
 Robertson was courteous to everybody ; but once in 
 awhile I caught him throwing despairing looks at 
 Blanche, as if to ask her when she would end the 
 farcical part of this affair. 
 
 We managed to leave M. and Mme. Fantelli alone 
 together more or less ; we guessed that there were 
 things they might like to discuss in private ; but the
 
 "HE LOOKS LIKE WALLACE." 307 
 
 door to the parlor they occupied on these occasions 
 seemed to be purposely left open, or at least ajar. 
 
 In this way several weeks passed. The brothers 
 dined at the Brixton house nearly every day, and 
 Jules usually remained most of the evening with 
 Blanche. At eleven o'clock the visitors always took 
 their leave. My own rooms were located in the 
 direction of the hotel they occupied, and we walked 
 out together. But nothing was said nothing by 
 either of us. 
 
 One evening this was only a few weeks ago the 
 clock struck the customary hour for leaving without 
 having any perceptible effect on Blanche or her 
 caller. We waited ten minutes, which seemed very 
 long ones, and still they did not come. Maurice 
 fidgeted slightly, but maintained silence. 
 
 Five minutes more ! Mrs. Drew rose and tiptoed 
 out of the room. A moment later she returned with 
 her eyes wide open and her Ijps parted. 
 
 "Oh, Stephen," she exclaimed, " what do you 
 think ! I knocked gently, and they did not answer. 
 And then I pushed open the door, and " 
 
 " Well ?" cried we all, in one breath. 
 
 "Why, Blanche was lying in his arms her face 
 all wet with tears, and and he was kissing fur F
 
 303 OUT or WEDLOCK. 
 
 READY FOR THE JURY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 AND NOW SUIT YOURSELVES. 
 
 Mr. MecKord paused and turned to me with a look 
 that s' 'T( as clearly as words, " What have you got 
 to say ujw ?" 
 
 And he did not seem particularly flattered when I 
 replied that his story had turned out precisely as I 
 expected it would. 
 
 " Women are women, after all," I explained. 
 **Let them get as far as they may out of the paths 
 followed by their grandmothers, inherited instincts 
 are stronger than innovating resolutions. Your 
 friend will be Madame Fantelli the rest of her life, 
 and probably all the happier for the roundabout way 
 she took to achieve her destiny." 
 
 The retired grocer smiled, with one of his triumph- 
 ant expressions. 
 
 " We don't know yet whether she will or not," he 
 said. "She still lives at her own house and he at 
 his hotel. Nearly every day he comes to dinner, 
 and remains for the evening and sometimes she 
 walks out with him but so far as we can see this is 
 all* She has given us no indication that she intends 
 to change this manner of life. In response to a 
 direct question of mine, just before I left New York, 
 she shook her head evasively."
 
 AND NOW SUIT YOURSELVES. 309 
 
 " You are a man of sense," I answered, " and you 
 know this can't go on forever ! They are by your 
 own account lovers, and time will surely bind them 
 closer. Mark my prediction " 
 
 He raised a finger to stop me. 
 
 " Don't prophesy ! Miss Brixton is a puzzle that 
 those who know her best have found impossible of 
 solution. There is no doubt that she loves this 
 Frenchman ; but she has an overweening fear of 
 putting herself, as she calls it, 'in his power.' She 
 is now free to love or to cease to love, and she wishes 
 to remain so. She wants the right to live near him 
 or to go to the farthest end of the earth ; to sub- 
 mit her lips to his kisses, or to close them, merely 
 because she wills it. She insists that wifehood breaks 
 from a woman the wings that God placed between 
 her shoulders and compels her to suit her pace to 
 that of a man she may learn to dread like death. 
 To be sure, she may change all of these views ; on 
 the contrary, she may not. Neither of us can tell. 
 That most women would change is no proof that 
 she will, for Blanche is not like other women." 
 
 I remarked that I wished Miss Brixton or Madame 
 Fantelli or whatever she elected to be called 
 would make her decision and have done with it. 
 And I gave as my very good reason that I had a 
 novel to write and wanted to use her history as its 
 basis, and could not wait a great while for the 
 denouement. 
 
 " My readers, especially the feminine ones," I said, 
 " will demand to know the result of this lady's 
 peculiar doctrines, or in other words, ' how she came 
 out/" 
 
 Mr. Medford replied that he had thought" of that.
 
 310 OTTT OF WEDLOCK. 
 
 He believed the best way was to write the story up 
 to date, constituting the public a jury to try the case 
 of the State vs. Brixton. They could argue it, pro 
 and con, and fix up conclusions to suit their indi- 
 vidual selves, and in a subsequent story I could tell 
 them what the real ending was, after time had de- 
 veloped it. 
 
 The more I considered this idea the more I was 
 pleased with it, and finally I told Medford that I 
 should follow his suggestion. 
 
 "It will be necessary, will it not," I added, " to 
 express my own opinion of the views Miss Brix- 
 ton attempted to carry out ? There is certainly 
 nothing in the poor girl's history to induce any other 
 woman to imitate her. As to her unfortunate 
 mother, the pathetic lesson of her fault hardly needs 
 anything more than the mere statement of it." 
 
 *' You can easily show that you hold the same 
 views as Dr. Robertson," was the reply. " Of course 
 no really intelligent person could do otherwise. 
 However sensible Blanche's notions may seem in 
 the abstract they are certainly out of place in our 
 civilization and in this age of the world. That 
 there are hardships in some marriages for an open- 
 hearted, high-souled woman, it is useless to deny ; 
 but to jump from frying pan to fire never yet cured 
 a burn." 
 
 As there was no controverting this statement, 
 which was a much wiser one than I should have ex- 
 pected from the mouth of a retired grocer, I merely 
 bowed assent. And thus I leave these people with 
 my readers. 
 
 There are so many novels whose ending you
 
 AND NOW SUIT YOURSELVES. 311 
 
 would like different, it should be a pleasure to have 
 one exactly as you want it. You are at liberty 
 to make Fantelli the happiest of mortals, or to send 
 him about his business as drones are sent by the 
 bees when the queen of the hive has no further 
 desire for their company. You can constitute Blanche 
 a femme scule, with her baby boy her only care, or 
 mould her into a plastic, yielding wife who loves her 
 husband as so good a man might easily be loved. 
 
 All this you can do for the space of six months. 
 For by next June, when my next novel comes *"ut, I 
 hope to be able to tell you exactly what has 
 pened. 
 
 THE END.
 
 KENMORE SERIES 
 
 NEW EDITIONS OF FAMOUS BOOKS 
 
 rHE KENMORE SERIES is composed of select titles by 
 famous authors of boys and girls books. Printed from new plates 
 on a high quality paper. Four illustrations, inlay and wrapper of each 
 book printed in full colors. Cloth-bound and stamped from unique dies. 
 
 An Old Fashioned Girl . Louisa May Alcott 
 Black Beauty ....... Anna Sewell 
 
 Elsie Dinsmore . . . . . Martha Finley 
 
 Heidi Johanna Spyri 
 
 King Arthur Retold 
 
 Little Lame Prince Miss Mulock 
 
 Little Men Louisa May Alcott 
 
 Little Women .... Louisa May Alcott 
 
 Pinocchio C. Collodi 
 
 Robin Hood Retold 
 
 Storyland Gems for Little Folks Winnington 
 Treasure Island . . . Robert Louis Stevenson 
 
 For sale by all Booksellers, or sent postpaid 
 upon receipt of $1.25 
 
 M-A-DONOHUE'#-COMPANY 
 
 711 SOUTH DEARBORN STREET CHICAGO
 
 BOY SCOUT SERIES 
 
 By 
 G. HARVEY RALPHSON 
 
 Just the type of books that delight and fascinate the wide awake 
 boys of today. Clean, wholesome and interesting; full of mystery 
 and adventure. Each title is complete and unabridged. Printed 
 on |a good quality of paper from large, clear type and bound in 
 cloth. Each book is wrapped in a special multi-colored jacket. 
 
 1 Boy Scouts in Mexico; or, On Guard with Uncle Sam 
 
 2. ... Boy Scouts in the Canal Zone; or, the Plot against Uncle Sam 
 3. . . .Boy Scouts in the Philippines; or, the Key to the Treaty Box 
 4. . . .Boy Scouts in the Northwest; or, Fighting Forest Fires 
 5. . . .Boy Scouts in a Motor Boat; or Adventures on Columbia River 
 6. . . .Boy Scouts in an Airship; or, the Warning from the Sky 
 7. . . .Boy Scouts in a^Submarine; or, Searching an Ocean Floor 
 8. . . .Boy Scouts on Motorcycles; or, With the Flying Squadron 
 9. ... Boy Scouts beyond the Arctic Circle; or, the Lost Expedition 
 10; ... Boy Scout Camera Club; or, the Confessions of a Photograph 
 11. . . .Boy Scout Electricians; or, the Hidden Dynamo 
 
 12 Boy Scouts in California; or, the Flag on the Cliff 
 
 13. . . .Boy Scouts on Hudson Bay; or, the Disappearing Fleet 
 
 14 Boy Scouts in Death Valley; or, the City in the Sky 
 
 15. . . .Boy Scouts on Open Plains; or, the Roundup not Ordered 
 16 .... Boy Scouts in Southern Waters; or the Spanish Treasure Chest 
 17. . . .Boy Scouts in Belgium; or, Imperiled in a Trap 
 18. ... Boy Scouts in the North Sea; or, the Mystery of a Sub 
 19. . . .BoyScoutsMysteriousSignalorPerilsoftheBlackBearPatrol 
 20. . . .Boy Scouts with the Cossacks; or, a Guilty Secret 
 
 For Sale by all Book-sellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 60 cents 
 
 M A DONOHUE & - COMPANY 
 
 711 SOUTH DEARBORN STREET CHICAGO
 
 Boy Inventors' Series 
 
 The author knows these subjects from a practical standpoint. Each 
 book is printed from new plates on a good quality of paper and 
 bound in cloth. Each book wrapped in a jacket printed in colors. 
 
 Price 60c each 
 
 1 Boy Inventors' Wireless Triumph 
 
 2 Boy Inventors' and the Vanishing Sun 
 
 3 Boy Inventors' Diving Torpedo Set 
 
 4 Boy Inventors' Flying Ship 
 
 5 Boy Inventors' Electric Ship 
 
 6 Boy Inventors' Radio Telephone 
 
 The "How-to-do-it" Books 
 
 These books teach the use of tools; how to sharpen them; to design 
 and layout work. Printed from new plates and bound in cloth. 
 Profusely illustrated. Each book is wrapped in a printed jacket. 
 
 Price $1.00 each 
 
 1 Carpentry for Boys 
 
 2 Electricity for Boys 
 
 3 Practical Mechanics for Boys 
 
 For Sale by all Book-sellers, or sent postpaid on receipt oj 
 the above price. 
 
 M A DONOHUE & COMPANY 
 
 ill SOUTH DEARBORN STREET CHICAGO
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L'J-Series 444
 
 A 000 032 773 4