> Q 
 
 ife 
 
 V i r gl hi a T e r fr u n 
 Van de Wat e r
 
 
 to exchange
 
 In the Web of Life
 
 "WHEN I THINK OP WHAT I HAVE LOST'
 
 In the 
 Web of Life 
 
 by 
 
 Virginia Terhune Van de Water 
 
 Author of The Two Sisters" 
 
 Illustrated 
 
 1 
 
 Hearst's International Library Co. 
 
 New York
 
 Copyright, 1914, by 
 HEARST'S INTERNATIONAL LIBRARY Co., INC. 
 
 rights reserved, Including tht translation Into foreign 
 languages, including tht Scandinavian*
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAQB 
 
 1 1 
 
 II 10 
 
 III 21 
 
 IV 38 
 
 V 55 
 
 VI 71 
 
 VII 94 
 
 VIII. Ill 
 
 IX 122 
 
 X 134 
 
 XI 151 
 
 XII 168 
 
 XIII 185 
 
 XIV 202 
 
 XV 219 
 
 XVI 236 
 
 XVII 248 
 
 XVIII 266 
 
 XIX 284 
 
 XX 296 
 
 XXI 313 
 
 XXII 321 
 
 XXIII. 328
 
 ILLUSTEATIOKS 
 
 "When I think of what I have lost" . . Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 Edith found her a safe confidant .... 20 
 
 Tom sat silent for a time watching the yellow bar of 
 sunlight creep up his office wall .... 166 
 
 She resembled strangely a well-known presentment of 
 
 Joan of Arc by an Italian sculptor . . . 280
 
 In the Web of Life
 
 IN THE WEB OF LIFE 
 
 Chapter One 
 
 The two men faced each other. One was tall 
 and rather plain of feature ; the other, his jun- 
 ior by two years, was shorter and handsome. 
 Perhaps the smaller man's eyes were not as 
 steady as those of his companion. But many 
 women prefer dark eyes to blue ones and 
 Ealph Morton had black eyes. His tall, plain 
 cousin, Tom Morton, was less popular with 
 women than was he. 
 
 "Tell me what scrape you are in, Ralph," 
 counseled Tom. "It's better, you know, to 
 tell me the whole truth if there is any way in 
 which I can be of use to you." 
 
 It was what he had often said to this care- 
 free cousin when they had been boys at school, 
 and later at college, when he was a junior and 
 Ralph was a happy-go-lucky, heedless fresh- 
 man. But now they were men and Ealph Mor- 
 ton was again in trouble. 
 I
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 He told his story excusing himself fre- 
 quently as he went along. It had been a foolish 
 mistake, he said an affair in which he had 
 borrowed a little money he happened to need 
 from a woman a friend of his. 
 
 Tom started with a smothered exclamation, 
 then controlled himself, but there was almost 
 a menace in the voice with which he de- 
 manded 
 
 1 'You borrowed money from a woman?'' 
 
 Ralph avoided his stern gaze as he hurried 
 on. There was nothing so bad in it, after all, 
 he averred. He and the woman Mrs. Evelyn 
 Price were good friends. Surely Tom had 
 heard him speak of her? the Prices, he might 
 remember, lived in Baltimore. 
 
 Yes, Tom remembered. "Go on," he said. 
 "Please stick to your story." 
 
 With a murmur of impatience, Ealph con- 
 tinued. He had often played cards with Mrs. 
 Price and had often spent the evening at her 
 house. She was rather gay and very jolly, and 
 not a bit too straight-laced to play cards her- 
 self for money so she could not blame any 
 man who did the same. 
 
 Her husband, by the way, was a rich chap
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 but a mere business machine. It so happened 
 that several nights ago he (Ralph) had been 
 playing with some men in Baltimore and had 
 lost a lot of money. It was not exactly his, by 
 the way, but some with which he was to meet 
 the interest on a mortgage of his mother's. In 
 fact she had sent him to Baltimore to pay it on 
 a house she owned there a house that had been 
 her father's and to see about having some re- 
 pairs done on the building itself. 
 
 He had not expected to lose at poker night be- 
 fore last. But he had lost. His mother had 
 written the man to whom she owed this money 
 that it would be in his hands yesterday. 
 
 "So you see I had to have it," Ralph de- 
 clared. "I went to the Prices and talked the 
 matter over with Mrs. Price. Her husband was 
 not in. His wife said she was glad he wasn't, 
 for he was in a very bad humor. Somehow 
 lately she has managed to get in wrong with 
 him. She suggested that I let her lend me the 
 money. I simply had to have it, so I borrowed 
 it. That's all." 
 
 He paused awkwardly. 
 
 "And then?" asked Tom Morton. 
 
 "Why, I paid the interest on the mortgage
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 on mother's property, of course," lie said. 
 From his manner one would fancy that there 
 was positive virtue in his having done this. 
 
 "And then?" Tom said again. 
 
 "Oh, d n it, Tom, you make it infernally 
 hard for a fellow to tell you a thing!" Ralph 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "I don't mean to," Tom protested, "only if 
 I am to help you, as you have asked me to do, 
 I must know the facts." 
 
 "Oh, I suppose so," the other assented, still 
 in an aggrieved tone. "Well, the long and 
 short of it is that everything's against me. In 
 the first place, here at 7 o'clock this morning 
 came a special delivery letter from mother, ask- 
 ing me to come home at once. She 's not feeling 
 so well, she said, and one of the servants got 
 into a drunken row and she 's afraid to stay out 
 at Homewood alone, and a lot of other things. 
 So unless I would have her suspect that some- 
 thing's wrong I've got to go out there to-night. 
 That's why I came on to New York immediately 
 to go to her, buj^ first to see you. For well, 
 Tom I've got to pay that money back. 
 
 ' ' It seems it was Price 's, not his wife 's. He 's 
 a jealous old fool, and he's asked his wife what
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 she did with the cash. You see, it was the 
 servants' wages and he had handed it to her 
 to pay them with. One of the maids, or the but- 
 ler, or some one, asked him for some money 
 yesterday and then he learned that this par- 
 ticular servant, at least, had not been paid yet, 
 and he raised no end of a row. 
 
 "His wife sent for me in all kinds of a scare. 
 She 's promised her husband that he shall have 
 the cash to-morrow morning. She made him 
 think that she had lent it to her sister. Her 
 sister's going on from Philadelphia this after- 
 noon to make her a visit. See ? And well, the 
 money's got to be there I" 
 
 "I see," said Tom Morton slowly. He was 
 sure that there was something more to learn. 
 
 1 ' You say, ' ' he questioned, ' ' that Mrs. Price 's 
 husband is jealous. Is he by any chance jealous 
 of you, Ralph?" 
 
 Ralph laughed embarrassedly. "Well, yes, I 
 guess he is," he acknowledged. "You see, he's 
 away from home quite a bit, and he doesn't 
 know me well, and I've been about with his 
 wife a good deal, and he's heard of it, and he's 
 peeved, and if he thinks that she lent me the
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 money why oh, well, you know how it 
 
 wiU be!" 
 
 1 'And you want me to lend you the money?" 
 "Why, yes I would like it, Tom if you 
 
 can 
 
 ' ' Certainly ! " the other cut him short. ' ' But 
 how will you get it to her on time? You see" 
 with a glance at the clock "it's after four 
 now and you say the money must be in her 
 hands to-morrow forenoon." 
 
 "I thought perhaps you could get away just 
 now easier than I could," the younger man 
 hurried on to explain. "You see, there's 
 mother wanting me and " 
 
 He paused, and his cousin answered quickly. 
 "Yes, yes, I see," he assented. He had always 
 loved Ralph. There was little that he would not 
 do for him. From childhood the older cousin 
 had stood between the younger one and trouble. 
 Ralph was a lovable fellow, he now mused. His 
 father had died when he was a mere child, and 
 his mother had depended upon him for com- 
 panionship and for much that the boy did not 
 really possess in the way of understanding 
 sympathy. But mothers' eyes are blinded by 
 affection. All these things passed through Tom
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 Morton's mind as he paused before uttering his 
 next sentence. 
 
 "I will lend you the money, Ralph," he said 
 at last. "But could you not telegraph it on to 
 Mrs. Price?" 
 
 "Lord, no!" exclaimed Ealph. "Her hus- 
 band would, perhaps, learn of it and there 
 would be a row. The only thing would be for 
 you to call and give it to her in person or at 
 least hand her your check, which she could 
 deposit and get the cash from the bank. You 
 could do that, Tom, I'm sure." 
 
 "Yes," replied the other, thoughtfully, "I 
 could arrange it, of course. I must telephone 
 out to Homewood that I cannot be there to- 
 night. You see ' ' he paused, flushing boyishly. 
 
 "Yes, I know," Ealph finished his unspoken 
 thought; "Edith's expecting you to dinner, 
 isn't she? I'm sorry to interfere with your 
 scheme; but I'll see her, old chap, as soon as I 
 get there and trump up some sort of a story 
 to tell her." 
 
 He, too, flushed, but his cousin looked at him 
 without suspicion. 
 
 "Thanks," he said gravely; "but I will 
 'phone her that business calls me out of town."
 
 8 In the Web of Life 
 
 He would not let himself remember that 
 Edith had promised to talk to-night with him 
 about certain plans dear to both of them. 
 Surely she would understand. Yet only last 
 evening she had reproached him with being so 
 much less enthusiastic than his younger cousin, 
 Ralph. 
 
 "Ralph is always so intense and so enthu- 
 siastic about everything," she had said with a 
 little laugh. "It would be a delight to have 
 such a man as that make love to one." 
 
 The words had been spoken in jest, but they 
 had made him vaguely uncomfortable. 
 
 He wished that Edith would not say such 
 things yet did they not prove what an innocent 
 child she was? And did he not love her better 
 than all the world beside? Could he blame 
 her if she resented his absence to-night? And 
 to-morrow evening her mother was giving a 
 dinner to them both an engagement dinner she 
 called it, a rather elaborate affair in her pretty 
 home in the fashionable suburb where she and 
 the Mortons made their home. At that dinner 
 Edith Hale's and Tom Morton's betrothal was 
 to be announced. 
 
 "I only thought," Ealph was saying and
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 Tom roused himself with an effort from his 
 revery "that if Edith expected you to-night 
 she might be a little lonely if you did not come. 
 So after I have dined with mother and quieted 
 her nervousness I will run over and cheer Edith 
 up a bit if you would care to have me do so. ' ' 
 
 "Thanks," replied Ralph, "that will be kind 
 of you. ' ' 
 
 "If she has other callers, I can talk to Con- 
 stance, you know," Ralph added. "Connie's a 
 good sort even if she is Edith's poor cousin 
 and such a sober little thing. ' ' 
 
 1 ' She is a fine woman, ' ' returned Tom. And, 
 remembering her presence, he felt a sudden 
 sense of security. Constance, the orphaned 
 cousin, who made her home with Edith Hale 
 and her parents, was his very good friend. She 
 would calm Edith's doubts, if she had any, 
 with regard to his absence. But of course 
 Edith would not doubt him. Did she not love 
 him, and were they not engaged to be married?
 
 Chapter Two 
 
 Homewood is one of New York's most beau- 
 tiful suburbs. It calls itself a suburb of the 
 metropolis, although it lies on the New Jersey 
 side of the Hudson River. 
 
 The New Yorker motoring through Home- 
 wood finds himself wondering why he is ever 
 willing to remain in the noisy city, and the rider 
 in the trolley car that runs near the residential 
 district sighs with longing for enough money 
 to live as the denizens of Homewood live. Here 
 one finds large and handsome houses, green 
 lawns, great shade trees and all the comforts 
 of the city combined with the beauties of the 
 country. 
 
 In one of these commodious houses lived John 
 Hale, his wife and daughter and his wife's 
 niece, Constance Medford. A few blocks away 
 was the residence of Mrs. James Morton and 
 her one son, Ealph. Tom Morton, Ralph's cou- 
 sin, had an apartment in New York, but was 
 a frequent visitor in his aunt's home. 
 
 It was on one of these many visits to Home- 
 10
 
 In the Web of Life n 
 
 wood during his boyhood that he had met and 
 fallen in love with Edith Hale. She had been 
 a mere slip of a girl at that time, while he was 
 too young to think of marriage. But he had 
 waited through the years that she had spent 
 with her mother in Europe ''finishing" the 
 education that had been begun in a New Eng- 
 land boarding school. 
 
 The four years in Europe had been in lieu 
 of the college education that most girls receive. 
 John Hale did not like women's colleges, yet 
 he wanted his only daughter to have all the 
 advantages his wealth could procure for her. 
 This thought had reconciled him to four Win- 
 ters without his wife and child, Winters which 
 he spent in a hotel in the city. Each Summer 
 he * * ran across ' ' to Europe for three months of 
 vacation from business and of travel with his 
 family. 
 
 Edith Hale had been back at home but six 
 months when Thomas Morton asked her to 
 marry him. She kept him waiting for three 
 months before she gave him a definite answer. 
 He was sure that his fate rested entirely with 
 her, for blunt John Hale had granted him per- 
 mission to seek Edith's hand when Tom, with
 
 12 In the Web of Life 
 
 old-fashioned ideas of what was right and 
 proper, told the girl's father of his love for 
 her. At the end of their confidential talk to- 
 gether John Hale laid a kindly hand on Tom's 
 shoulder. 
 
 "My boy," he said, his eyes suddenly moist, 
 "I have always dreaded parting from my girl, 
 but if she must marry, and I suppose girls will 
 do it" with an attempt at a laugh "I would 
 rather that it should be you than any one else. ' ' 
 
 "You honor me very highly, sir," Tom said, 
 deeply moved. ' ' I wish I were more worthy the 
 trust you have in me." 
 
 "I do honor you," the elderly man said, "for 
 no higher honor could be shown any man than 
 to trust him with the happiness of such a girl 
 as Edith my only girl, too, remember. But 
 I'm glad it's you, Tom, and I don't say it be- 
 cause you had a little money left to you by 
 your father, nor because you are making a 
 comfortable living from your business, but be- 
 cause you are a gentleman by birth and at heart. 
 I used to be afraid that Edith might take a 
 fancy to Ralph. They have known each other 
 since they were children, you know, although
 
 In the Web of Life 13 
 
 his absence at college and her absence in Europe 
 kept them apart a good deal. Yet I rather sus- 
 pected the lad was in love with her, but I dis- 
 couraged him by my manner as much as pos- 
 sible. I would never approve of that match. 
 
 "Oh, I know" as Tom uttered a protest 
 ' * that you and Ealph are cousins, and that you 
 are fond of him, and all that, but, Tom, he lacks 
 stability. He has no definite business, though 
 he plays at the law a little, but he is too willing 
 to have his mother support him. And I don't 
 like his principles, my boy, nor his views of 
 life." 
 
 This conversation had taken place some weeks 
 before Tom Morton started for Baltimore to 
 pay Ealph 's debt to Mrs. Price. He recalled 
 it as he telephoned to the Hale home after 
 Ealph had left him. Tom Morton and Edith 
 Hale had been engaged now for a fortnight. 
 It was Constance Medford who answered the 
 telephone. She would call Edith at once, she 
 said. But he checked her to ask a question 
 first. 
 
 " Constance," he said, "Edith is well and 
 happy, isn't she?"
 
 14 In the Web of Life 
 
 "Why of course she is!" Constance replied. 
 "Why shouldn't she be?" 
 
 The man laughed nervously. "Oh, I don't 
 know, only I have just had a disappointment 
 and it has upset me a little perhaps. I find 
 myself called out of town on business. I will 
 tell Edith this myself, but I just thought I 
 would mention it to you now, for if she is de- 
 pressed or disappointed you will cheer her I 
 know." 
 
 "Of course I will try to," the girl agreed 
 reassuringly. "Now wait while I call Edith." 
 
 A minute later the listener at the New York 
 end of the wire heard the voice of the girl he 
 loved. 
 
 "Yes," said the voice, "you want to speak to 
 me, Tom? Aren't you coming out to dinner?" 
 
 "I can't, Edith," he replied guardedly, mind- 
 ful of chance listeners on the wire. "Business 
 takes me out of town to-night." 
 
 1 ' Oh ! ' ' There was a note of mingled surprise 
 and regret in the sweet tones. "Can't you put 
 it off? Surely what you and I were going to 
 talk about is more important than any old busi- 
 ness, isn't it?" 
 
 "To us yes indeed it is," the man said with
 
 In the Web of Life 15 
 
 a tender laugh, "but I simply have to go away, 
 Edith. I'll be back in plenty of time for the 
 dinner to-morrow night, you know." 
 
 "But can't you put off the business that's 
 taking you away this evening 1 ?" she repeated. 
 
 * ' I can 't, dear, ' ' he regretted. " I 'm fearfully 
 sorry ! ' ' 
 
 "So am I!" she returned briefly. "Good- 
 bye!" 
 
 Was she vexed 7 the man asked himself as he 
 hung up the receiver. He would write her a 
 line before he started for Baltimore, and to- 
 morrow evening they would be together at the 
 dinner at which their engagement was to be 
 announced. And at this thought his doubts 
 vanished and the cloud passed from his face. 
 
 Edith Hale hung up the receiver, and there 
 was a distinct frown on her forehead. It was 
 still there when she sought her cousin Con- 
 stance, where she sat in the drawing-room, 
 playing softly on the piano. 
 
 Constance Medford's tact was not of the ob- 
 trusive kind, but it seldom failed her. It was 
 this which had prompted her, after summoning 
 Edith to the telephone to talk with Tom Mor- 
 ton, to leave the talker at the instrument in the
 
 16 In the Web of Life 
 
 hall and take herself off to the piano where 
 she made just enough music to prevent her 
 overhearing a conversation that was not meant 
 for her ears, and to prove to the engaged girl 
 that nothing that she said was listened to by 
 any one except the person to whom she was 
 speaking. 
 
 "I declare it's too bad!" Edith complained 
 as she entered the room in which her cousin 
 was sitting, and at the sound of her voice Con- 
 stance ceased her playing. 
 
 "Tom's not coming out to dinner this even- 
 ing," Edith continued. "And he promised me 
 last evening that he would be here! Yet now 
 he lets some stupid business matter interfere 
 with his keeping his word ! ' ' 
 
 ' ' Of course it must be something that he can- 
 not help, dear," Constance reminded the disap- 
 pointed girl. "You must know that he would 
 come if he could." 
 
 "Perhaps," shrugged Edith. Then she 
 laughed at her own impatience. "I am silly, I 
 suppose," she said, "but Tom does take things 
 in such a matter-of-fact way that he exasperates 
 me. I cannot imagine Ralph Morton's letting
 
 In the Web of Life 17 
 
 anything keep him away from the girl he was 
 engaged to." 
 
 Constance raised her eyebrows skeptically. 
 1 'Nor can I imagine his being as conscientious 
 about anything as Tom is. With Ealph I al- 
 ways think that if duty and pleasure conflicted, 
 he would let duty go by the board." 
 
 "Well, he would at all events keep his word 
 to his fiancee," Edith pouted again. She was 
 annoyed by Tom's change of plans and found it 
 difficult to regain her good humor. "Here I 
 have a whole evening without any company. 
 But," with a sudden smile, "perhaps Ealph 
 will run over for a while. If so, I shall not 
 miss Tom, for Ealph is such fun. ' ' 
 
 Constance looked at her reproachfully. "You 
 do not mean that, dear, ' ' she said gently. ' ' You 
 will miss Tom less if you have somebody else 
 here, but you know that you will miss him 
 nevertheless, and that Ealph cannot take his 
 place." 
 
 "Well, if he could, he would fill it better than 
 Tom does!" Edith retorted, half in fun, half 
 in vexation. "But come along and play some 
 jolly thing for me and chase away my blues!" 
 
 While Constance Medford sat at the piano
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 complying with Edith Hale's request, her 
 thoughts were busy. She had been living in 
 this beautiful home since the death of her 
 father a year ago. Her mother had died when 
 she was a child. Now the girl was left with 
 very little money, but with a knowledge of 
 music that could be turned to profit. Her aunt 
 and uncle had insisted upon her making her 
 home with them. She did not want to be a de- 
 pendent, she had protested, but John. Hale and 
 his wife had tried to impress upon her the fact 
 that her presence in their house was a joy for 
 which they would gladly have paid what John 
 Hale called ' ' a good round sum. ' ' 
 
 "You are an unspeakable comfort to us all," 
 her aunt had declared. "And you cost us noth- 
 ing." 
 
 Constance had accepted the home but had lost 
 no time in securing music pupils among the 
 children of the prosperous families in Home- 
 wood, and she had the satisfaction of knowing 
 that though she was not allowed to pay board 
 she was able to buy her own simple clothing. 
 She hoped that she might soon begin to lay 
 aside a little money each year so that she need 
 never be a burden upon her kind relatives.
 
 In the Web of Life 19 
 
 She could not help knowing that they all 
 loved her and that she had proved helpful in 
 many ways since she had become one of this 
 household. Edith found her a safe confidant, 
 and enjoyed her companionship, although the 
 two girls were dissimilar in taste and charac- 
 ter. Constance was fond of her pretty, brown- 
 eyed cousin, and was always ready to make 
 excuses for her sudden wayward impulses and 
 swift changes of mood. 
 
 This afternoon, however, as the two girls sat 
 in the gathering dusk one playing gay little 
 tunes, while the other listened, beating time 
 with the tip of a shapely slipper the orphan 
 found herself wishing that Edith appreciated 
 more the depths of feeling of which Tom Mor- 
 ton was capable. Could not the girl see, she 
 wondered, that Ralph was attracted to her, 
 and that he was showing his admiration with 
 little thought that in doing so he was not quite 
 honorable, that he was looking with longing 
 eyes upon the woman who had just become en- 
 gaged to a man who was his cousin and his 
 friend? 
 
 As she compared the two men in her thoughts, 
 Constance was conscious of a great wave of
 
 20 In the Web of Life 
 
 sympathy for the older man, of an understand- 
 ing of his bigness and fineness that brought a 
 glow to her heart. Her fingers strayed un- 
 consciously from the little tune that she had 
 been playing and struck some minor chords, 
 then wandered into a wistful, haunting air in 
 consonance with her musings. 
 
 "Good gracious, Constance!" Edith ex- 
 claimed, ' ' how melancholy that sounds ! What 
 are you playing? I asked for gay music, not 
 for a dirge ! ' ' 
 
 The musician's hands crashed upon the keys 
 with sudden discord as she started violently 
 at her companion's ejaculation. Then she 
 laughed apologetically. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, honey!" she regretted. 
 "My thoughts were wandering and I forgot 
 that you had insisted upon something jolly. 
 But" glancing at the little French clock on 
 the mantel shelf "it is getting late and we 
 shall have to hurry if we would change our 
 dresses in time for dinner." 
 
 She put her arm about Edith's waist and 
 drew her toward the door. She was glad there 
 was no time just now for further discussion 
 of Tom and Ralph Morton.
 
 EDITH FOUND HER A SAFE CONFIDANT
 
 Chapter Three 
 
 "I thought Tom was to be here to-night," 
 Mr. Hale remarked as the family gathered 
 about the dinner- table. * * Why didn 't he come f ' ' 
 
 "Oh," replied his daughter with a vexed 
 laugh, "he let a little matter of business keep 
 him away. He telephoned to me an hour or 
 two ago about it." 
 
 "I'm sorry not to have the boy with us," her 
 father said, "but I do like the conscientious 
 spirit he shows about his work. ' ' 
 
 "Yes," Mrs. Hale agreed. "He does not let 
 inclination interfere with duty." 
 
 Edith was silent. From her face one could 
 not guess her thoughts. 
 
 Dinner was almost ended when there was a 
 ring at the front door bell, and a moment later 
 a servant announced * * Mr. Ralph Morton. ' ' 
 
 "Let him come right in and have a cup of 
 coffee with us," Mrs. Hale ordered, and her 
 daughter supplemented it with "Why, yes; of 
 course!" 
 
 The most prejudiced observer could hardly 
 21
 
 22 In the Web of Life 
 
 deny that it was a good-looking man who en- 
 tered. As he paused in the doorway, his face 
 lighted by a smile that displayed his flashing 
 teeth, his dark eyes glancing from one to the 
 other of the family group, Constance acknowl- 
 edged to herself that Ralph Morton was far 
 better-looking than his more sober cousin and 
 that he possessed a personal magnetism which 
 would be hard to resist were he to consider it 
 worth while to exert it. 
 
 This evening he evidently desired to make 
 himself agreeable, and he bent low over his 
 hostess' hand, thanking her for allowing him 
 to come in "just like one of the family," then 
 he shook hands heartily with his host, cordially 
 with Constance and almost affectionately with 
 Edith. His voice took on an added gentleness 
 as he spoke to her, half-familiarly, half teas- 
 ingly. 
 
 "I did not need an excuse to bring me here 
 this evening, ' ' he said to her, ' * but had I needed 
 one I had it in the fact that I am the bearer of 
 a message of regret from Tom. He is detained 
 in town by business." 
 
 "He telephoned me that he could not come," 
 replied the girl, looking at him keenly. "But
 
 In the Web of Life 23 
 
 he told me lie had been called out of the city." 
 
 Ralph flushed with embarrassment. Edith, 
 noting this, wondered just why Tom Morton 
 was remaining away from her. Was the "out 
 of town" excuse a false one? Constance Med- 
 ford, seeing Ralph's discomfiture, wondered 
 with sudden suspicion what he was concealing. 
 Why should he have said that Tom was stay- 
 ing in New York to-night, when Tom himself 
 had said otherwise ? And Ralph Morton, feel- 
 ing the eyes of both girls focused upon him, 
 laughed awkwardly. 
 
 "Oh, yes," he said, "come to think of it, he 
 did say he was going out of town. I forget 
 just where. The main point that impressed me 
 was that he could not be here and that he was 
 much disappointed that he could not." 
 
 "So he told me over the telephone," Edith 
 remarked dryly. 
 
 "Never mind, darling," her mother soothed, 
 hearing the sound of wounded feeling in the 
 girl's voice. "To-morrow night he will be here 
 for your engagement dinner. I cannot help 
 thinking," she went on, anxious to change the 
 current of her daughter's thoughts, "how
 
 24 In the Web of Life 
 
 much surprised our neighbors will be when they 
 hear that you and Tom are engaged." 
 
 The waitress had placed the coffee on the 
 table and had withdrawn, so the mistress felt 
 that she could speak without restraint. 
 
 "For, you know, Ralph," she continued, "you 
 two boys have been here so much with my two 
 girls that I do not believe any outsiders know 
 which girl is engaged to which boy, or if there 
 is any engagement at all." 
 
 Ealph laughed and looked across the table 
 at Constance. "Well, I declare, Miss Con- 
 sance," he said, jestingly, "it has never oc- 
 curred to me that people might suspect you 
 and me of having a tender passion for each 
 other ! Had you ever thought of it I " 
 
 "Indeed I had not!" she exclaimed trying 
 to laugh lightly. She felt an uneasy doubt 
 about this man. Yet she chided herself for it. 
 He was a decent fellow, though he was con- 
 ceited, and she was probably unjust to him. 
 
 "Cheer up, dear future cousin," Ealph ral- 
 lied Edith. "Don't look so sad! Only twenty- 
 four hours more and Tom will be here!" 
 
 "I wasn't even thinking of Tom," she de- 
 clared. "I was just thinking that it is per-
 
 In the Web of Life 2$ 
 
 fectly silly of you and Constance to call each 
 other 'Mr.' and 'Miss/ You know each other 
 well enough to say 'Ralph' and ' Constance.' " 
 
 "I should be honored to do so," replied 
 Ealph gallantly. "How about you, Miss Con- 
 stance f ' ' 
 
 "I will call you just what Edith wishes," Con- 
 stance evaded. 
 
 "It's an agreement!" exclaimed Edith, as 
 the family arose from the table. She turned 
 toward Ralph as he approached her. "Let's 
 go into the drawing room, ' ' she proposed, ' ' and 
 make Connie play for us. But remember, Con- 
 nie no more dirges!" 
 
 "Why not have a waltz?" suggested Ealph. 
 
 * * So soon after dinner ! ' ' exclaimed Mrs. Hale. 
 But the young couple paid little heed to her 
 and were soon gliding in time to a dreamy 
 waltz tune. At last Edith looked up into her 
 companion's face. 
 
 "Why," she murmured, "didn't Tom come 
 to-night? I have a feeling that there is some 
 reason for his absence which neither you nor 
 he has told me." 
 
 "If there were," Ealph said softly, peering 
 down into her flushed face, a glow of admira-
 
 26 In the Web of Life 
 
 tion in his eyes, "I would have no right to tell 
 you. You are his property, you know. I am 
 only an outsider." He laughed bitterly. "I 
 have no right to give any inside information 
 nor to say what I think, nor worse luck! 
 what I feel." 
 
 Edith attempted to smile, but again suspicion 
 seized her. And coupled with it was a vague 
 wonder if, after all, she could ever love Tom 
 as dearly as she had thought she could love 
 him as dearly, for instance, as she might have 
 loved a different kind of man a man, perhaps, 
 who loved her more enthusiastically a man 
 with a sudden blush making her cheeks hot 
 a man like Ralph ! 
 
 Ealph Morton lingered long at the Hales' 
 that evening. He and Edith soon wearied of 
 dancing and allowed Constance to cross the hall 
 into the library, which was her favorite resort 
 and where her uncle and aunt were seated 
 one on either side of the large central table 
 reading by the soft light from the lamp stand- 
 ing there. 
 
 The pair made a pretty picture, the girl ob- 
 served as she entered the room. What a beau- 
 tiful thing married life was when a couple
 
 In the Web of Life 27 
 
 grew old gracefully together and when their 
 tastes were similar and their mutual love 
 strong. Yet what a wretched thing marriage 
 would be if two people were not congenial ! 
 
 As she thus pondered there flashed into her 
 mind the thought of Tom Morton and his strong 
 character and of Edith and her excitable, affec- 
 tionate, yet intolerant nature. Would this 
 couple ever be the happy Darby and Joan that 
 Edith's parents were? Marriage was a serious 
 thing so much more serious than young peo- 
 ple appreciated! 
 
 She seated herself with a little sigh in a chair 
 near the reading-lamp and her aunt glanced at 
 her with an affectionate smile. 
 
 "So you are leaving the young people and 
 coming in here with us old folks, are you?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "Yes," Constance smiled back, "they are 
 having a strenuous discussion on the last new 
 dance, and, you know, while I dance some- 
 times, I do not care much about it, so I thought 
 that there might be room for me here." 
 
 Her uncle leaned over to pat her shoulder 
 reassuringly. ' ' You ought to know that there 'a
 
 28 In the Web of Life 
 
 always room for you where your aunt and I 
 are, dear child, ' ' he said. 
 
 ' * Thank you, sir, ' ' replied the girl gratefully. 
 How good these dear people were to her and 
 how much she loved them ! Tears of gratitude 
 came to her eyes, and that she might not show 
 them she took up a book that she had this 
 afternoon left on the table and began to read 
 it. So absorbed did she become in the story 
 that she soon forgot her surroundings and the 
 young people across the hall. She was brought 
 back to herself with a start by her uncle's 
 voice. 
 
 "I declare," he said softly, laying down the 
 volume he had been reading, "Ralph is staying 
 very late this evening." 
 
 ''Yes," agreed his wife, looking up from her 
 magazine. "I wish he would go home and let 
 Edith get to bed. She looks tired. Moreover," 
 stifling a yawn, "I'm a little sleepy myself." 
 
 "Go to bed, then," suggested Constance, 
 "and I will stay down here reading until Ralph 
 goes. I am interested in my book anyway." 
 
 Thus urged, the two elderly people went to 
 their rooms, stepping lightly that the caller in 
 the drawing room might not suspect that they
 
 In the Web of Life 29 
 
 felt he was outstaying their patience. For an 
 hour longer Constance sat reading. Then she 
 heard Edith's voice, and there was a weary 
 sound in it. 
 
 "I think, Kalph," she was saying, "that I 
 ought to send you home. I am sure that father 
 and mother have gone upstairs and I ought 
 to go too." 
 
 It was not until Ealph replied that Constance 
 appreciated that he had forgotten her proxi- 
 mity or that he did not suspect any one was 
 within earshot. 
 
 "I know, dear," he said, "but there are so 
 few occasions now when I can have a nice long 
 talk with you alone, such as we have had to- 
 night. And the times are getting fewer." 
 
 Edith tried to laugh. "Oh, well," she said, 
 "I hope we will always be good friends. I 
 don't see why we shouldn't." 
 
 Yet there was a wistful note in the voice 
 that made Constance sorry for the speaker. 
 Was she unhappy? Was she still regretting 
 Tom's absence, or was there some other trouble 
 on her heart? Arising, Constance started to- 
 ward the door, but as she reached the hall she 
 stopped suddenly. A sentence was borne to
 
 30 In the Web of Life 
 
 her, a sentence spoken by Ealph Morton, in a 
 low, agitated voice. 
 
 "When I think," he said, "of what Tom has 
 won and I have lost, I feel as if I could not 
 bear it" 
 
 Constance's heart gave a glad throb as she 
 heard the girl's reply, although it was uttered 
 in an unsteady tone. 
 
 "You have no right to talk to me like that, 
 Ealph," Edith began. Then, as she faltered, 
 and her voice broke, the unwilling listener in 
 the hall rendered further speech unnecessary by 
 hurrying forward and making her presence 
 known. 
 
 "I have just finished my book," she an- 
 nounced easily, "so I thought I would come 
 in here and see how you young people are 
 faring." 
 
 Edith turned to her eagerly, stretching out 
 her hand as if to draw her cousin to her. 
 
 "Oh, Connie," she said, "I'm so glad you 
 came just in time to keep Ealph and me from 
 quarreling! We've been boring each other to 
 death." 
 
 "And I must go home," declared the man, no 
 sign of embarrassment on his face. But Con-
 
 In the Web of Life 31 
 
 stance saw that he held Edith's hand longer 
 than usual, and she noted, also, the quiver of 
 the girl's lip as she murmured "good night!" 
 
 The front door had closed behind him and 
 the two cousins were on their way upstairs be- 
 fore Edith spoke again. 
 
 "I'm tired to death," she said tremulously, 
 * ' tired of almost everything and everybody ex- 
 cept you, Connie. I would like to go away 
 where I need not see anybody for a while 
 except just you. ' ' 
 
 Constance drew her to her and kissed her. 
 "You're just weary to-night, that's all, dear 
 child," she murmured. "And you are disap- 
 pointed about Tom's not coming. Try to think 
 of how good he is, and of how he loves you." 
 
 To her surprise, Edith burst into tears. * ' Oh, 
 Connie, Connie!" she murmured, "I sometimes 
 think that it's a mistake to love any man!" 
 
 ' ' Oh no it is not, dear, ' ' Constance said gent- 
 ly, but firmly. "It's not a mistake for you to 
 love Tom." 
 
 But Tom's fiancee made no reply. 
 
 "Colors seen by candle light differ with the 
 morning," runs the line of an old poem. Cer- 
 tainly to persons of impressionable or mer-
 
 32 In the Web of Life 
 
 curial temperament affairs that seemed gloomy 
 at night, when one was weary, assume a differ- 
 ent aspect on a bright morning after a good 
 night's sleep. 
 
 So to Edith Hale awakening from a night 
 of slumber undisturbed by thoughts of Tom's 
 failure to keep his appointment with her life 
 was not the same kind of problem that it had 
 been last evening. It has been asserted that 
 we are more sane in the morning than at night. 
 Certainly Edith Hale was her better, normal 
 self on this Spring morning. 
 
 She dressed rapidly, with an appreciation of 
 the beauty of the sunlight, of the budding trees, 
 of life in general. She flung wide her windows 
 when her toilet was completed, and, leaning 
 out, drew in great breaths of the fresh air. 
 The trees in the orchard beyond her window 
 had put out little buds that were swelling almost 
 into bloom; there was a soft green haze over 
 the distant hills ; it was Spring ; she was young ; 
 Tom loved her, and yes! she was sure this 
 morning that she loved him! 
 
 A knock at her door made her turn and call 
 "Come in!" She smiled gladly as Constance 
 entered, ready for breakfast.
 
 In the Web of Life 33 
 
 "Good morning!" Edith greeted her cheer- 
 fully. "Isn't this a lovely day and, Connie, 
 wasn't I a little goose to be as blue as I was 
 last night? To-day everything seems dif- 
 ferent." 
 
 "Of course it does!" Constance agreed cor- 
 dially. "I knew you were only tired and dis- 
 appointed last night." 
 
 "Such a wise girl as you are!" Edith ex- 
 claimed, kissing her rapturously. "I suppose 
 I was wrong to feel hurt at Tom's absence. 
 I did just the same but I don't now." 
 
 "Then forget that you ever did," Constance 
 advised. "We are all moody sometimes and 
 cannot really help it. Now let's go down to 
 breakfast. Aunt will be wondering where we 
 are." 
 
 An envelope lay at Edith's place at the table 
 and she tore it open eagerly, for it was ad- 
 dressed in Tom's handwriting. It was the note 
 he had written hastily yesterday afternoon 
 after his telephone message to her. 
 
 "This letter may seem unnecessary to you, 
 darling, ' ' he wrote, "but I cannot go away with- 
 out sending you just a line to tell you once 
 more how sadly disappointed I am not to be
 
 34 In the Web of Life 
 
 with you this evening. I am trying to console 
 myself with the thought that to-morrow night, 
 come what may, we will be together at the din- 
 ner at which we are to let our friends know 
 that I am the most fortunate man in the world. 
 When I think of what it all means, Edith, I 
 can hardly believe that to such an unworthy 
 person as myself this wonderful gift has come. 
 "I know you love me enough to be disap- 
 pointed by my not being with you this evening, 
 but by the time this reaches you the evening 
 without me will be over and you will remember 
 that nothing short of a catastrophe can keep 
 me away to-morrow night. I believe the din- 
 ner is to be at seven-thirty. I shall try to get 
 out to Homewood and to you by seven o'clock." 
 
 Edith Hale read and re-read the letter, her 
 color deepening and her heart full of affection 
 for this man who loved her so much. How 
 could she have thought such horrid things about 
 him last night? Even if he was not as hand- 
 some and as enthusiastic as Ealph, he was so 
 good and so faithful and trustful that any girl 
 might be proud to win his love. 
 
 "You look mighty bright and happy this 
 morning, honey," her mother observed affec- 
 tionately. 
 
 "lam happy," the girl rejoined with a smile.
 
 In the Web of Life 35 
 
 "Why shouldn't I be? The day is perfect, we 
 are all together and well, and " 
 
 She paused, blushing, and her father laugh- 
 ingly supplied the rest of her sentence "And 
 Tom's coming this evening!" 
 
 "Yes," she affirmed, "that is one reason 
 why I am so happy." 
 
 Then the talk turned to the prospective din- 
 ner party, at which there were to be eight 
 couples. 
 
 "Tom will take you in to dinner, won't he, 
 mother 1 ' ' asked Edith. ' I think it would look 
 well to have him do, so, don't you?" 
 
 "Can you spare him to me for so long a 
 time as that?" laughed her mother. "I shall 
 feel like a wretch, depriving you of him." 
 
 But Edith insisted that, under the circum- 
 stances, she would prefer this arrangement. 
 
 "The news of our engagement will not be 
 announced until the close of dinner, you know, ' ' 
 she said, * ' and it will be easier for me if I have 
 a comparative stranger to talk to until then." 
 
 "What about Ealph?" her father queried. 
 "He will want to sit by you, of course." 
 
 He looked at his daughter as he made this
 
 36 In the Web of Life 
 
 query. He had known for some time that Ealph 
 was in love with Edith, and wondered if she 
 knew it too. He was glad when she shook her 
 head decidedly. 
 
 "No!" she exclaimed. "I don't want Ealph 
 with me. Let him take Connie in to dinner. 
 Would you like to have Ealph by you, dear?" 
 looking across at Constance. 
 
 "I don't care who sits by me," Constance re- 
 plied unconcernedly, * ' so long as the affair goes 
 off all right. The conversation will be general 
 most of the time, anyway and Ealph Morton 
 is jolly and good fun to talk to. So arrange 
 the table to suit yourself, Edith, dear. It's 
 your party, remember, and I do think that upon 
 this occasion you might have matters just as 
 you want them. Of course, put Ealph by me. 
 If he doesn't mind, I don't!" 
 
 She did not add what was in her mind, 
 namely, that she did not care who sat by her 
 so long as Ealph did not sit by Edith. 
 
 ' * Somehow, ' ' she said to herself later as she 
 arranged the flowers in the various rooms in 
 preparation for the evening's festivities, "I 
 do not feel at all confident of Ealph Morton's
 
 In the Web of Life 37 
 
 honorable intentions nowadays. I hope that I 
 am mistaken in my judgment of him. If so, I 
 shall be only too happy to acknowledge that I 
 have done him an injustice!"
 
 Chapter Four 
 
 "Mrs. Price is not at home, sir." 
 
 The maid who opened the door for Tom Mor- 
 ton said the words politely, but with a look of 
 ill-concealed curiosity. The man who had rung 
 the bell was aware that this was an uncon- 
 ventionally early hour for a social call, and 
 understood the maid's interrogative expression 
 of countenance. 
 
 "Not at home?" he repeated. "I am sorry. 
 I want to see her on an important matter of 
 business." 
 
 He was wondering if the girl's answer to his 
 question had not been the one uttered by the 
 servants of society women who wish to indicate 
 that they are not caring to receive callers. He 
 did not like to seem too persevering, but if he 
 would be at Homewood to-night by 7 o'clock 
 he must take an early afternoon train from 
 Baltimore. So he put another question to the 
 maid : 
 
 "Can you tell me when Mrs. Price will be in? 
 Would I be likely to find her later in the morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 38
 
 In the Web of Life 39 
 
 "I don't know, sir. Her sister's visiting her, 
 and the two of them's gone out somewhere for 
 the morning, and maybe for luncheon. Couldn't 
 you leave your message with me! I'll give it 
 to Mrs. Price as soon as she comes in." 
 
 "I'm afraid not," the man regretted. He 
 could not give this girl his name lest her mis- 
 tress' husband should hear of it and suspect 
 that Kalph had been communicating with her. 
 Ealph had warned him especially against doing 
 anything that would arouse the jealous hus- 
 band's suspicions. Then a happy thought 
 struck him. 
 
 "If" he hesitated "you can give me an 
 envelope, I will write a line on my card and 
 leave it for Mrs. Price." 
 
 While the maid hurried off to fulfill his re- 
 quest Tom drew his visiting card from his 
 pocket and wrote on it the name of the hotel 
 at which he was stopping. He would enclose it 
 in an envelope and seal this. He disliked to do 
 it, yet what other course could he pursue f Mrs. 
 Price might understand what his errand was 
 and call him up upon her return. 
 
 "You think Mrs. Price will be back soon after
 
 40 In the Web of Life 
 
 luncheon, don't you?" he asked when the maid 
 returned with the envelope. 
 
 "I don't know, I'm sure, sir," answered the 
 girl. There was nothing to be gained by ques- 
 tioning her and he handed her his enclosed card 
 with a brief "Please see that she gets this as 
 soon as possible.'" 
 
 He had a long morning ahead of him and he 
 was at a loss as to what to do with it. It was 
 a perfect day, and Baltimore in Springtime 
 would delight the heart of any lover of that 
 beautiful city. Nothing would have pleased 
 Tom Morton more than to walk here to-day 
 with Edith Hale; but he was too anxious to 
 get back to her to be allured by the prospect 
 of a solitary promenade. Moreover, Mrs. Price 
 might return and call him up at the hotel during 
 his absence. 
 
 So, after an hour's stroll, during which he 
 paused for a moment at the grave of Edgar 
 Allan Poe to think of his tragically sad life, 
 he returned to the Hotel Belvedere and asked 
 anxiously at the office if any message had 
 come for him. The polite clerk answered in 
 the negative with a regretful manner that some- 
 how comforted the stranger.
 
 In the Web of Life 41 
 
 Buying several papers and magazines, Tom 
 went into the reading-room and tried to forget 
 his uneasiness, although he found it hard to 
 fix his mind upon the daily news or the short 
 stories and special articles which he attempted 
 to peruse. 
 
 But the longest morning will wear itself away 
 at last. It was almost 1 o'clock when he went 
 into the corridor, where the telephone booths 
 were located, and looked up in the directory 
 the number of Mrs. Price's house. A servant's 
 voice answered his call. 
 
 "No, sir, Mrs. Price isn't home yet," she re- 
 plied to his query. "But she's telephoned that 
 she'll be in about 2 o'clock." 
 
 Two o 'clock ! Could he deliver the money to 
 her and yet catch a train to New York that 
 would get him out to Homewood before it was 
 too late I He hesitated for a moment, then the 
 thought of Edith made him take a chance. 
 
 "I left a card with you this morning, you 
 remember?" he said. 
 
 He thought he had recognized the voice of the 
 girl whom he had seen earlier in the day. 
 
 "Yes, sir, you did," she replied. 
 
 "As soon as Mrs. Price returns give her
 
 42 In the Web of Life 
 
 that card and ask her to call me up immediately. 
 Understand?" 
 
 "Yes, sir or" with a little catch in her 
 voice, "Mr. Price may be home before her. Will 
 I give him the message?" 
 
 "No, don't bother him about it," Morton 
 returned quickly. Price might be at home ! If 
 so, how could Morton see Mrs. Price without 
 running the chance of meeting her husband? 
 The New Yorker hung up the receiver with an 
 impatient exclamation. He hated intrigue 
 despised it with all the disgust of a clean, 
 straightforward, honest man. To think that 
 he should be involved in such a mess as this ! 
 
 Eepairing to the dining room, he tried to eat 
 some luncheon, but even the Maryland fried 
 chicken failed to tempt him. Again and again 
 he looked at his watch. It was 2 o 'clock when a 
 page came through the rooms calling his name, 
 and he responded eagerly. 
 
 "Someone for you on the phone," the boy 
 said. 
 
 It was a woman's voice that replied to his 
 "Hello!" and the voice was so unsteady that 
 Tom knew the speaker was agitated.
 
 In the Web of Life 43 
 
 1 'You are Mr. Morton Balph's brother?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "I am Balph's cousin," Tom said briefly. "I 
 have something here which he asked me to de- 
 liver to you." 
 
 Oh thank Heaven!" she breathed. "Do 
 not bring it until after 3 o'clock, no earlier," 
 she added hastily in a low tone. "Be sure not 
 to come until then. Bring it yourself. Don't 
 trust it to anyone else for the servants and 
 messengers may be watched. But by quarter 
 past three I will be alone. Good-bye ! ' ' 
 
 Quarter past three! Then, no matter how 
 much he hurried, he could not catch a train 
 that would get him into New York before 8 
 o 'clock ! 
 
 It was exactly three-fifteen when, for the 
 second time that day, Tom Morton found him- 
 self at Mrs. Price's house. On this visit he was 
 admitted to the drawing room, where he waited 
 impatiently while the maid took his name 
 upstairs. He did not sit down, but walked ner- 
 vously up and down the long room, watching 
 the hands of the elaborate ormolu clock on the 
 mantel shelf. The room was furnished rather
 
 44 In the Web of Life 
 
 flashily with much blue velvet and gilt filigree 
 work. 
 
 The mistress of the house, coming downstairs 
 after having kept her caller in suspense for 
 fifteen minutes, seemed to match the furnish- 
 ings. Tom observed this, and, with his sub- 
 jective mind, wondered as she greeted him if she 
 had lingered in her room to put an additional 
 touch of rouge to her cheeks and to apply the 
 powder puff to her nose. Both applications 
 were evidently recent. 
 
 The woman's manner was agitated, almost 
 furtive, and she spoke rapidly. 
 
 "You come from Ralph Morton?" she inter- 
 rogated. 
 
 "Yes," replied Tom, drawing from his pocket 
 the envelope containing the amount of Balph's 
 debt. 
 
 To his inward amusement, Mrs. Price took 
 the bills from the envelope and counted them 
 carefully. 
 
 "That's all right," she said in a relieved 
 voice. "This matter has upset me dreadfully. 
 Of course I would do anything I could to help 
 Ealph, for he and I are very dear friends, but" 
 with a slight hesitation "well, to tell the
 
 In the Web of Life 45 
 
 truth, my husband is very unreasonable, and he 
 has asked me again and again about that 
 money, and I assured him that it was all right 
 that. I had lent it to my sister and that he 
 should have it to-day. I was out when he 
 came in at noontime, and he was still here 
 when I got home. He said he had an engage- 
 ment at three o'clock, but would not be gone 
 long. So this is the only time I could see you. 
 I just had to have the money before he gets 
 back, for he is very cross about it." 
 
 "I see," said Tom. He found himself in- 
 tensely embarrassed in the presence of this wife 
 who spoke so frankly of her husband. HOW 
 could Ealph have become intimate with a 
 woman of this type older than he and so arti- 
 ficial in appearance? Yet Tom Morton's man- 
 ner gave no evidence of what was passing in 
 his mind as he bowed gravely in bidding his 
 hostess good afternoon. 
 
 "I have a train to catch," he explained 
 tersely. 
 
 He had sent a telegram to Edith before leav- 
 ing his hotel, telling her that he had been de- 
 tained and could not get out to Homewood until 
 nearly 10 o 'clock. He did not let himself think
 
 46 In the Web of Life 
 
 what this news would mean to the girl he loved 
 what it meant to him. Yet if he could reach 
 the Hale home after the late dinner, while the 
 guests were still assembled, the announcement 
 of the engagement could be deferred until then. 
 He would explain to Edith that the business 
 which had taken him to Baltimore had detained 
 him unavoidably. She would know, without his 
 telling her, what a disappointment this turn 
 of affairs had been to him. He stifled the sud- 
 den fear that perhaps she might not under- 
 stand. Of course she would ! Did she not love 
 him? But he must catch the four o'clock train. 
 Mrs. Price had kept him waiting so long that 
 he would have to hurry to make up the time 
 that she had lost him. He started for the door. 
 
 ' ' Wait!" she exclaimed suddenly, drawing 
 the portieres hastily together. 
 
 There was a sound of a latch-key in the front 
 door, and Tom saw the woman grow pale under 
 her rouge. She looked at him beseechingly and 
 put her finger on her lips to signal him to 
 silence. 
 
 As the pair stood thus Tom Morton heard the 
 front door open, then close, and someone walked 
 heavily through the hall toward the staircase.
 
 In the Web of Life 47 
 
 "It is my husband," Evelyn Price whispered, 
 as the footsteps were heard mounting the stairs. 
 "Wait until he is out of sight of the front door. 
 If he saw you he might think you were Ealph 
 and he would be furious." 
 
 "But," Tom demurred, "he knows Ealph, 
 doesn't he 3" 
 
 "No," she shook her head hastily. "He 
 has never met Ralph, but he has heard some 
 
 silly gossip about his taking me about a lot, 
 
 and he's jealous." 
 
 So, added to all the other disagreeable com- 
 plications, here was a possibility of Tom Mor- 
 ton's being mistaken for his cousin by a jeal- 
 ous husband! Anxious to shake off the hate- 
 ful atmosphere of deception and intrigue in 
 which he found himself, he started toward the 
 door. 
 
 "I must go!" he exclaimed. 
 
 But Evelyn Price laid her hand on his arm 
 and detained him a moment longer, until she 
 heard the footsteps of the husband in the room 
 above. 
 
 "Now!" she exclaimed in a low voice, "It's 
 safe. Go!" 
 
 She almost pushed him into the hall, though
 
 48 In the Web of Life 
 
 he needed no second bidding. He noticed as 
 he ran down the front steps that she closed 
 the door behind him noiselessly. He won- 
 dered, with a ridiculous feeling of guilt, if by 
 any chance the jealous man of the house was 
 watching from an upper window his hasty de- 
 parture and deducting his own conclusions 
 therefrom. For might he not suppose that this 
 was Ralph Morton, the man of whom he felt 
 he had just cause to be jealous? Why had 
 Ealph given him, Tom, the impression that he 
 knew the husband of the woman whose name 
 had been linked with his ? 
 
 Then, glancing at his watch, all other 
 thoughts were submerged in a recognition of 
 the lateness of the hour. Hailing a passing 
 cab, he sprang into it, and bade the driver 
 make his best time to the station, promising 
 him a generous "tip" if he got there before the 
 train for New York left. 
 
 The driver did his best, but as Tom Morton 
 out of breath and panting with excitement, 
 rushed into the station, the last car of the train 
 he had planned to take to New York glided 
 past the north end of the platform. 
 
 There are two kinds of love that a man may
 
 In the Web of Life 49 
 
 feel for his betrothed. One kind has in its 
 very nature a calm certainty of complete trust 
 on the part of the woman. The man knows 
 that she has absolute faith in him and that no 
 chance circumstances can shatter that faith. 
 She would have to be convinced by her own 
 sight of his indifference or infidelity before she 
 would doubt him. The other kind of love and 
 this is perhaps the more common is accom- 
 panied by a hope that the woman will under- 
 stand, a wish that she may believe in her 
 sweetheart but there is always the tormenting 
 possibility that if circumstantial evidence were 
 against him she might waver in her trust. 
 
 Tom Morton would have denied even to him- 
 self that his love was of the second kind de- 
 scribed. But the fact that he found it necessary 
 to assure himself over and over "Of course 
 Edith will not be angry, though she will be dis- 
 appointed," or "The dear girl will trust me, 
 even though I cannot be with her to-night," 
 was proof that he was not entirely sure of his 
 betrothed 's confidence in him. 
 
 For some minutes after the four o'clock train 
 had pulled out of the Baltimore station the 
 man stood lost in deep thought. Then he went
 
 50 In the Web of Life 
 
 to the ticket office and asked several questions. 
 The next train for New York would not leave 
 for an hour. It was the Congressional Lim- 
 ited, but it would not get him into the city until 
 after 9 o'clock. 
 
 No matter how much he hurried he could not 
 go to his apartment, change to evening clothes 
 and get out to Homewood until after the dinner 
 guests had departed. His hope had been that 
 he might make the 4 o'clock train and reach his 
 own apartment by 8 :30, dress quickly and catch 
 the 9:30 train to Homewood, arriving at his 
 fiancee's house very close to 10 o'clock. Now 
 that was impossible. There was no help for 
 it. He could not see Edith to-night. And this 
 was the evening on which their engagement 
 was to have been announced ! Yet, surely she 
 would understand. 
 
 After a while he went out of the station and 
 paced up and down the platform, thinking out 
 his problem. What right had Ralph to exact 
 such a sacrifice of any friend? Why had he 
 not done his own mean work? Then Tom re- 
 membered his aunt Ralph's mother an in- 
 valid, the victim of confirmed heart disease, 
 who would have been distressed and anxious
 
 In the Web of Life 51 
 
 had her boy not gone to her when she summoned 
 him. Perhaps his failure to obey her request 
 might have brought on a serious attack of ill- 
 ness. Ealph was right to hurry home when she 
 asked him to. Under existing conditions what 
 else was there for an only son to do I Tom tried 
 to put from his mind the temptation to remem- 
 ber that Ealph could have come on to Baltimore 
 by an early train this morning, or that, after all, 
 if he had done as his mother had asked him to 
 do in the first place with her money instead of 
 gambling it, all this trouble might have been 
 avoided. 
 
 "We are none of us perfect, and we all make 
 mistakes," Tom muttered to himself. "And 
 surely Ealph will do all in his power to make 
 Edith believe that I have used every effort 
 to get home in time. Since he made me promise 
 to hand the money to Mrs. Price, and to her 
 alone, he will be man enough to see that I do 
 not suffer for it in the estimation of the dear 
 people at Homewood. ' ' 
 
 This thought moved him to telegraph to 
 Ealph as well as to Edith. To the man he 
 sent the following message :
 
 52 In the Web of Life 
 
 " Could not see your friend until this after- 
 noon. Missed train. 
 
 "T. M." 
 
 Somehow he felt better when he had sent 
 off that wire. Ealph would know why he was 
 detained and would be so sorry about it that 
 he would lay especial stress on the fact that 
 the business that had delayed Tom was most 
 important. Perhaps and Tom's heart glowed 
 with the thought he would even tell Edith the 
 entire truth about the money, taking upon him- 
 self all the blame. Why, of course Ealph would 
 do that ! Tom would do it were the positions 
 reversed, and certainly Ealph was better, more 
 generous than he ! 
 
 His heart was lighter by the time he had 
 reached this conclusion. He would send a long 
 telegram to Edith. How silly it was to confine 
 oneself to ten words in telegraphing! As if a 
 hundred cents, more or less, were worth con- 
 sidering when the matter of making an explana- 
 tion was at stake. 
 
 So, with a fine disregard of expense, he drew 
 a telegraph blank from its holder and set him- 
 self to the task of composing his message to 
 his betrothed. He destroyed several perfectly
 
 In the Web of Life 53 
 
 good blanks before he was even partially satis- 
 fied with the results of his cogitations. This 
 was the best that he could do under the circum- 
 stances, he decided, as he read and reread his 
 
 message : 
 
 "Important business made me lose train. In- 
 tensely disappointed. Could catch nothing ear- 
 lier than 11 o 'clock train to Homewood. Please 
 send message to me at my apartment. Am sure 
 you will understand and share my distress. 
 
 "T. M." 
 
 He paid for the message almost eagerly. It 
 was good to be doing something that would 
 seem to put him in communication with Edith. 
 He had asked her to send him a line to his 
 apartment because he longed to be assured of 
 her comprehension of his feelings. Of course 
 she would send him a message. He would find 
 a telegram awaiting him, saying that she un- 
 derstood and telling him to come out as early 
 as possible to-morrow. What a comfort it was 
 to be engaged to a girl who had faith in one! 
 
 All of which was a little like a small boy 
 who whistles in going through a dark wood to 
 prove that he is not afraid. 
 
 It was with a sigh of genuine relief that
 
 54 In the Web of Life 
 
 Tom Morton boarded the Congressional Lim- 
 ited and selected his seat. He leaned back in 
 his Pullman chair and closed his eyes with the 
 consciousness that every turn of the wheels 
 was bringing him nearer New York and the 
 woman he loved.
 
 Chapter Five 
 
 During the morning in which Tom Morton 
 was suffering from delays and consequent agi- 
 tation, Edith Hale had been happy and satis- 
 fied with herself and the world in general. 
 
 Ealph Morton had decided that, as his mother 
 was not feeling well, he would not go into the 
 city to-day, and at 11 o'clock had presented 
 himself at the Hale home in his automobile run- 
 about and suggested that Edith might like to 
 "take a spin" with him. 
 
 At first she hesitated, looking at him doubt- 
 fully. He laughed so merrily at her grave 
 countenance that she, too, laughed. 
 
 "Oh, come along!" he urged. "I promise to 
 be jolly and good and sweet-tempered and not 
 a bit sentimental. I wasn 't very nice last night, 
 I admit, but I have decided not to cry any 
 more over spilt milk. Go and put on your hat 
 and coat and breathe some of this heavenly air. 
 Good morning, almost cousin!" as Constance 
 came out upon the veranda, "Do use your 
 influence to make this girl come with me. I 
 55
 
 56 In the Web of Life 
 
 have promised her not to talk anything serious 
 and not to say a cross word if she will come. 
 It's too bad," he added as an afterthought, 
 "that this rig holds only two, for I would like 
 to take you with us." 
 
 "Oh, thank you," Constance replied, "but I 
 could not go anyway, for I have two music les- 
 sons to give this morning." Then, turning to 
 Edith, she asked in a low tone, "Do you want 
 to go for a ride, dear?" 
 
 "Yes," Edith acknowledged, "I think I'd like 
 it, especially as Ralph has promised to be nice." 
 
 The man kept his word so well that his com- 
 panion returned from the jaunt with her cheeks 
 aglow and her eyes sparkling. 
 
 "He can be so jolly," she told Constance 
 later, "that I do not see why he must some- 
 times get those silly sentimental streaks such 
 as he had last evening. I have never seen two 
 cousins more unlike than Ealph and Tom." 
 
 "They are alike in the fact that they both 
 care for you, ' ' Constance remarked. 
 
 Edith flushed. "Yes," she said, "I believe 
 they do. Yet in such a different way. ' ' 
 
 "Tom is much more stable than Ralph," Con- 
 stance said. "He has depths of feeling which
 
 In the Web of Life 57 
 
 Ralph could not understand. Both are inter- 
 esting men, but Ralph is weak compared to 
 Tom." 
 
 It was early in the afternoon, and the two 
 girls were lying down resting. Edith had 
 coaxed Constance to come into her room and 
 "loaf" for a while. "So that you will look 
 even prettier than usual to-night," she had 
 said. And Constance had smilingly consented. 
 She enjoyed Edith when the girl was in one 
 of her sunny moods. 
 
 "You always have a good word to say for 
 Tom," Edith went on now, "and he deserves 
 all the good things any one can say of him. He 
 is a dear old chap!" 
 
 Constance laughed. "Old!" she scoffed. 
 "One would think that thirty years was a great 
 age! You forget that in seven years I will 
 be thirty myself." 
 
 "Well, I am only two years younger than 
 you," regretted Edith. "But I don't want to 
 grow old." 
 
 "You need not be afraid of age if you have 
 Tom with you," Constance reminded her. 
 "That is one beautiful thing about marriage 
 when people love each other they grow old to-
 
 58 In the Web of Life 
 
 gether, so that neither is lonely. I was think- 
 ing of that last night as I looked at uncle and 
 aunt." 
 
 "I know it's true about them," Edith agreed. 
 Her face had softened, and there was a tender 
 look in her eyes as she continued. "Father 
 and mother make me appreciate what love 
 really is. Oh, Connie!" with a long breath of 
 joy, "how happy I ought to be and how happy 
 I am! I have dear father and mother and 
 you and Tom!" 
 
 "Last, but not least!" Constance teased. 
 
 "No to-day I have been sure that he is 
 first," Edith said. "I can hardly believe that 
 only last night I talked as if I would be as 
 happy with Ealph as with Tom. I was vexed 
 when I said that. Now I know better, and I 
 can never distrust Tom again." 
 
 Before her companion could reply there was 
 a knock at the door and the maid entered with 
 a telegram. "For you, Miss Edith," she said, 
 "and the boy is waiting to see if there is any 
 answer." 
 
 Edith tore open the envelope, and there was 
 a tense silence while she read the message.
 
 In the Web of Life 59 
 
 ''No," she said, without looking up, "there 
 is no answer." 
 
 The door had closed behind the maid before 
 Edith spoke again. "This is from Tom," she 
 explained, her voice trembling. ' ' He says that 
 he has been detained and cannot reach New 
 York in time to be here for dinner, but will 
 surely arrive about ten. ' ' 
 
 She made no further comment, but lay on 
 the bed gazing hard at the ceiling. Her cousin 
 touched her hand gently. 
 
 "I'm sorry, dear," she sympathized. "I 
 know how much disappointed you are. ' ' 
 
 "This is the second time in twenty-four 
 hours that Tom has failed me," Edith said. She 
 picked up the slip of yellow paper again and 
 looked at it as if she would wring from it some 
 further information. 
 
 "It was sent from Baltimore, and was prob- 
 ably written right after luncheon," she com- 
 mented. "It must be very important business 
 that detains him." 
 
 There was a tinge of sarcasm in the words, 
 but Constance ignored this. 
 
 "Indeed it must be," she assented. Sud- 
 denly she remembered her suspicions of last
 
 60 In the Web of Life 
 
 night with regard to Ralph's knowledge of 
 Tom's errand to Baltimore. As if reading her 
 thoughts, Edith spoke slowly, musingly. 
 
 "I am sure that Ealph knows what the busi- 
 ness is," she said. "I might ask him." 
 
 "Oh, dear Edith," Constance protested 
 gently, "I wouldn't do that if I were you!" 
 
 "If Tom fails me again I will!" the girl 
 threatened. 
 
 * ' But he won 't fail you again ! ' ' Constance de- 
 clared confidently. 
 
 A kindly Providence seems to have decreed 
 that when one would feel justified in sitting 
 down to nurse a grudge or a grievance, there 
 are details which demand one's time and 
 thought and leave scant leisure for introspec- 
 tion or self-pity. 
 
 Such was the case on the afternoon on which 
 Edith Hale received Tom Morton's first tele- 
 gram. It was Constance who reminded her 
 that there was something to be done, and that 
 quickly. 
 
 "You know," the older girl said, "that we 
 must tell aunt that Tom cannot be here and 
 consult with her as to whom we shall invite
 
 In the Web of Life 61 
 
 to sit in his place. It is late now to secure an 
 eligible man." 
 
 "I don't care who comes now," Edith com- 
 plained. Nevertheless, she arose from the bed 
 where she had been lying and accompanied Con- 
 stance to Mrs. Hale's room. Here was held 
 a consultation which resulted in Edith's tele- 
 phoning to various bachelors of her acquaint- 
 ance in the hope that one of them would be dis- 
 engaged for the evening. 
 
 At last one was found who said that he would 
 be delighted to take the absent guest's place 
 "even as a stop-gap, for to be invited to a din- 
 ner at such a home was an honor always." 
 
 The graceful speech brought a happier look 
 to Edith's eyes, though her mood was still less 
 buoyant than it had been earlier in the day, 
 and she cherished in the bottom of her heart 
 a slight sensation of resentment toward her be- 
 trothed. She was almost ashamed to acknowl- 
 edge this, for it was evident that her mother 
 and cousin felt nothing but sympathy for the 
 man who could not be present at his own en- 
 gagement dinner. 
 
 ' ' Of course we will not announce the engage- 
 ment until dear Tom arrives," Mrs. Hale re-
 
 62 In the Web of Life 
 
 marked. "As Mr. Dayton is to take Tom's 
 place at the table, I suppose he will sit by me 
 at dinner won't he?" 
 
 "Yes, I think so," replied Edith. Then she 
 flushed consciously. "And," she continued, "I 
 believe I want Ealph to sit by me, after all. 
 You don't mind, Connie, do you?" 
 
 "Why should I mind?" parried Constance. 
 She was sure that pique was at the root of 
 Edith's decision. Edith herself hurried on to 
 explain her change of position. 
 
 "You see," she said, "when I told you last 
 night that I would prefer that someone else 
 should take me in to dinner I expected that 
 the engagement would be announced while we 
 were still at table, and it would be easier for 
 me to have a stranger to talk to then. But 
 now I don 't care. Ealph may sit by me. ' ' 
 
 This matter arranged, her spirits rose again 
 and she chatted brightly and happily of having 
 some music and dancing during the evening to 
 detain the guests until Tom should arrive. 
 
 "You are always so good about playing for 
 pur dancing, Connie," she said with a little 
 laugh. ' ' After all, Tom 's not being here to din- 
 ner will make our friends think that there is
 
 In the Web of Life 63 
 
 nothing between him and me. The surprise will 
 be all the greater when they do know. Per- 
 haps, in spite of my blues, it is turning out for 
 the best." 
 
 Throwing an arm about Constance's waist, 
 she waltzed her the length of the great hall 
 and back, then dropped down upon the piano 
 stool and began to play a little accompaniment 
 to the words of an old nursery song, singing 
 it in her sweet girlish voice : 
 
 "Bobby Shafto's gone to sea, 
 Silver buckles on his knee ; 
 He'll come back and marry me; 
 Pretty Bobby Shaf to!" 
 
 "He hasn't really gone to sea," she laughed, 
 springing up from her seat and kissing Con- 
 stance, who stood near her, "but he'll come 
 back and marry me, nevertheless." 
 
 Her mother eyed her affectionately, yet 
 slightly puzzled by the child's many changes of 
 manner. 
 
 "I declare, darling," the elderly woman said, 
 "you are to-day what the Scotch call 'fey.' I 
 don't know when I have seen you so gay." 
 
 "Oh, well," said Edith, bestowing a light
 
 64 In the Web of Life 
 
 kiss on her mother's gray hair, "I wasn't gay 
 a while ago when Tom's message came; but 
 now I see I was silly to be hurt. All 's well that 
 ends well, and since he will surely be here soon 
 after dinner it's all right. You see, we don't 
 dine until half -past seven, and we will be easily 
 two hours at the table, and he will get here 
 by ten o'clock. So I'm just going to be happy 
 and not spend time regretting what can't be 
 helped." 
 
 ''That's sensible, dearie," her mother ap- 
 proved. "It's harder on Tom, you know, than 
 on any one else. But a business man's time 
 is never his own. ' ' 
 
 Mrs. Hale, Constance and Edith were still 
 talking in the drawing-room when the maid ap- 
 peared at the door with the five-o'clock tea 
 tray. Mr. Hale, who had just come out from 
 town, joined the group, and in spite of his 
 declaration that he "really didn't care a bit for 
 tea," accepted a cup of it and drank it with 
 an avidity that belied his words. 
 
 Edith was laughing at him and teasing him 
 for his inconsistency when, for the second time 
 that afternoon, a maid appeared with a yellow
 
 In the Web of Life 6$ 
 
 envelope and said, as before, "A telegram for 
 you, Miss Edith." 
 
 For a moment all the blood seemed to ebb 
 from Edith Hale's face as she read the mes- 
 sage and handed it to her father. 
 
 "You may read it to the others," she said 
 dully. Turning to Constance she looked at her 
 almost accusingly, "You may remember," she 
 said, "how sure you were that Tom would not 
 fail me again. You see you were wrong." 
 
 As her father read the message aloud she 
 stood listening as if she had not known its con- 
 tents before. 
 
 "Poor Tom!" Mr. Hale exclaimed. "It's 
 too bad ! " He glanced out into the hall. * ' Per- 
 haps the messenger boy is waiting for a reply," 
 he said; "but, no I see he has gone." 
 
 "It is just as well," Edith remarked color- 
 lessly. * * I have no reply to send ! ' ' 
 
 Then, before any one could speak a word 
 of sympathy to her, she fled from the room and 
 upstairs. 
 
 When, ten minutes after Edith's flight from 
 the drawing room, Constance knocked at her 
 closed door, there was at first no reply.
 
 66 In the Web of Life 
 
 "Edith!" Constance called softly, "let me 
 come in, dear just for a moment." 
 
 The key was turned in the lock and Edith 
 faced her cousin, her eyes swollen by crying, 
 her cheeks flushed. She was not crying now. 
 Indeed, the spark of anger in her eyes had dried 
 up her tears. 
 
 "What do you want?" she asked coldly. 
 
 But as Constance entered the room Edith's 
 self-possession deserted her for a moment. 
 
 "Oh, Connie!" she exclaimed, covering her 
 face with her hands, "I'm so mortified so 
 ashamed ! ' ' 
 
 Closing the door behind her that no chance 
 passer through the hall might overhear the con- 
 versation, Constance put her arms about the 
 unhappy girl and drew her close to her. 
 
 ' ' Ashamed ! ' ' she repeated. * ' But why, dear 
 Edith? There is nothing to be ashamed of." 
 
 "Yes, there is," Edith contradicted, her face 
 still hidden in her hands. "I have let a man 
 play fast and loose with me have let Tom 
 Morton flatter himself that I care for him, and 
 now he shows me that he cares nothing for 
 me; that he has so little sense of common de- 
 cency that he will make me the laughing stock
 
 In the Web of Life 67 
 
 of all those people who are coming here to- 
 night. I can't stand it! I tell you I can't 
 stand it!" 
 
 " Edith!" Constance remonstrated sternly. 
 1 ' Stop talking like that and listen to me. First 
 of all, we must decide what's to be done about 
 to-night. Then we can talk of poor Tom after 
 that." 
 
 " 'Poor Tom!' " Edith repeated scornfully. 
 "I am the one to be pitied, not Tom!" 
 
 But Constance stopped her with a gesture. 
 "It is a mistake," she said, "to talk about any 
 one when one is angry with him don't you 
 think so? And besides that, dear, let us dis- 
 cuss the matter of the dinner first of all. 
 There's no time to be lost so gather yourself 
 together. Your mother asked me to talk the 
 matter over with you. I told her you and I 
 would arrange everything, that you were al- 
 ways to be depended upon where pluck and 
 grit were needed." 
 
 The appeal to her pride had the desired 
 effect upon Edith. She raised her head from 
 her hands, and consented to sit down on the 
 divan by Constance and listen to her sugges- 
 tions.
 
 68 In the Web of Life 
 
 "Now," the older girl said, "you must re- 
 member that nobody who will be here to-night 
 knows that this was to be an engagement din- 
 ner, so nobody will expect an announcement of 
 any kind for all are in ignorance of the state 
 of affairs all, that is, except Ralph." 
 
 The listening girl caught her breath sharply. 
 "Yes," she exclaimed "except Ealphl But 
 what is to be told him?" 
 
 "The truth," said Constance decidedly. 
 
 "Then I'll tell it to him," declared Edith, a 
 vindictive sound in her voice. 
 
 But Constance seemed to ignore this. ' ' Yet, ' ' 
 she went on, "if you wish to have your en- 
 gagement announced this evening it can be done. 
 It will be very easy to explain that Tom was 
 detained in Baltimore by business in fact we 
 could make something of a joke of the cir- 
 cumstance of the honored man 's not being able 
 .to get here even though he had made every 
 effort to do so." 
 
 She looked at Edith hopefully, but met no 
 response in the gaze which Tom's fiancee fixed 
 upon her. 
 
 "No," Edith said, "I shall not announce 
 my engagement to-night not unless the news
 
 In the Web of Life 69 
 
 of it has already got out. If it has, I will 
 deny it. For I am not engaged." 
 
 "Oh, my dear," Constance begged, "won't 
 you let that matter rest until to-morrow? Then 
 you can look at it calmly and dispassionately 
 after you have heard Tom's explanation." 
 
 Edith paused a full minute before she an- 
 swered with a hardness and lack of feeling that 
 convinced Constance that she was making a 
 tremendous effort at self-control. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "I will wait until to-mor- 
 row, when I shall decide this matter finally 
 although I think I know now what my de- 
 cision will be. It all depends on " 
 
 She stopped. "On what?" Constance asked 
 anxiously. 
 
 "On what Ealph says about his cousin's busi- 
 ness in Baltimore. He knows more than he 
 has told us, I am sure and I shall get the 
 truth from him." 
 
 "Yes," said Constance significantly, "I think 
 Ealph does know more than he has told us 
 about Tom's mission to Baltimore and more 
 than he is likely to tell us." 
 
 "What do you mean?" demanded Edith. 
 
 "I would rather not say anything more just
 
 70 In the Web of Life 
 
 now," Constance replied. "I should not have 
 let mere suspicion make me speak as I did. 
 Only I am sure that Tom is honest and true." 
 
 ' ' And you don 't trust Ralph ! ' ' Edith insisted. 
 "You think he is not trustworthy, don't you?" 
 
 Constance took the excited girl's cold hand 
 in her warm clasp. "Dear Edith," she said, 
 "I am asserting nothing, except that the man 
 who loves you is good and would not hurt you 
 for the world. Try to trust him, dear ! ' ' 
 
 "I have trusted him!" Edith retorted, her 
 eyes flashing. "I have trusted him again and 
 again. And you see the result! No, I don't 
 trust him now and I don't care for him as 
 much as he thinks I do ! " 
 
 Constance rose with a sigh. "Shall I go 
 down and tell aunt what we have decided about 
 the dinner that we shall not announce the en- 
 gagement since Tom can't be here?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes," replied Edith, "please tell her that 
 we will not announce any engagement unless 
 we have to!"
 
 Chapter Six 
 
 Looking around her dinner table at the com- 
 pany assembled there, Mrs. Hale told herself 
 that, after all, the affair was proving a suc- 
 cess. The men were clever and brilliant; the 
 girls attractive and merry. 
 
 The dear soul had had many sinkings of 
 heart over the combination of circumstances 
 that had necessitated Tom Morton's absence in 
 spite of his longings to be with his fiancee on 
 this occasion. Edith's mother never doubted 
 Tom's sincerity nor his intention to be present 
 to-night. She had pardoned Edith's swift re- 
 sentment, for she was sure that it was only 
 the mood of the moment. 
 
 Constance, in telling her aunt of the decision 
 with regard to the non-announcement of the 
 engagement this evening, had not intimated 
 that the girl was angry with Tom. The mother 
 assured herself that her child's vexation had 
 been only of a moment's duration. Had not 
 she herself, Martha Hale, sometimes been out 
 of patience with her own dear John ? She hated 
 71
 
 72 In the Web of Life 
 
 to remember that she had ever been so un- 
 reasonable, but she could not deny the truth. 
 
 "So Edith would rather wait to announce 
 her betrothal until Tom can be with her?" Mrs. 
 Hale had asked her niece. 
 
 And Constance had replied, "Yes, aunt. She 
 thinks it would be better unless you object." 
 
 "Of course I don't object," Mrs. Hale had 
 assured her. "Jndeed I think it is a very nat- 
 ural preference on the dear child's part. I am 
 sorry for her disappointment, but it will all 
 come out right in the end. ' ' 
 
 The expected guests had arrived on time, the 
 table was beautiful, the floral decorations, ar- 
 ranged by Constance's deft fingers, very ef- 
 fective, and all was going off happily. Ed- 
 ward Dayton, the man who was taking Tom 
 Morton's place at Mrs. Hale's right hand, was 
 a pleasant young fellow who was glad to have 
 been selected as a substitute for the missing 
 guest. So agreeable did he make himself that 
 the hostess forgot to be sorry for Edith. When 
 at last she looked down the table at her, her 
 daughter's appearance allayed any doubts that 
 might have arisen in the mother's mind. 
 
 No other girl present was as pretty as Edith.
 
 In the Web of Life 73 
 
 She had never looked lovelier than she did to- 
 night, the proud parent observed. Ealph was 
 evidently making himself very amusing and 
 Edith was laughing even more than usual at his 
 jokes and stories. Her cheeks were flushed, 
 her eyes almost unnaturally bright. She had, 
 apparently, recovered entirely from her disap- 
 pointment. 
 
 Opposite Edith sat Constance, talking to the 
 man next to her in such a way as to entertain 
 him, yet her aunt knew that her ever watchful 
 eyes would be sure to detect any lack of at- 
 tention on the part of the servants and that 
 she would tactfully and quietly rectify it. What 
 a comfort the child was in the house! And 
 again the hostess sighed with satisfaction. 
 
 It was at this juncture that there befell one 
 of those strange and unaccountable pauses in 
 the conversation one of the pauses which we 
 all have noticed even in a room full of people 
 who, a moment before, were all chatting busily. 
 An old superstition has it that when there comes 
 such a sudden lull an angel is passing by. Con- 
 stance Medford was about to mention this tra- 
 dition to her companion when a man seated
 
 74 In the Web of Life 
 
 farther down the table asked, as if to fill in the 
 awkward pause : 
 
 "By the way, where 's Tom Morton to-night? 
 I rather expected to see him here, for" with 
 a glance at Ealph "you two Mortons gener- 
 ally hunt in couples, don't you?" 
 
 It was a thoughtless speech and might have 
 passed unnoticed had Edith Hale not flushed 
 hotly and started to speak. Ealph attempted 
 to conceal her embarrassment by replying 
 quickly : 
 
 "Yes, Tom's missing all this fun because of 
 of an overstrained sense of duty. He's been 
 called out of town on business." 
 
 ' * Too bad ! ' ' said someone. Then the talk be- 
 came general once more and Constance breathed 
 more freely. Was it only fancy that made her 
 think that several of the guests looked with 
 some curiosity at Edith? Could the rumor of 
 her engagement possibly have gotten abroad? 
 
 The glances had not escaped Edith's con- 
 sciousness, and it was with a nervous manner 
 that she turned to Ralph when her guests were 
 once more launched upon the stream of ani- 
 mated conversation. 
 
 "It was kind and like you to answer so
 
 In the Web of Life 75 
 
 quickly just now, ' ' she said in a low tone. ' ; For 
 a moment I was at a loss as to what to say. 
 But you did just the right thing." 
 
 "I spoke only the truth," he rejoined lightly. 
 11 Could I do less?" 
 
 The girl looked at him swiftly and search- 
 ingly. "You mean you spoke a part of what 
 seems to be the truth," she corrected him. 
 
 "My dear girl!" he ejaculated, changing 
 color slightly. "What do you mean? What 
 are you hinting at?" 
 
 "I'm not hinting at anything," she replied. 
 ' ' I am merely saying that you know that there 
 is a reason for Tom's absence a reason which 
 you have not told me. ' ' 
 
 "Are you sure he has not told you?" he 
 asked suspiciously, watching her anxiously. 
 
 ' ' Of course he hasn 't, ' ' she replied. ' * I fancy 
 it is to his interest not to, and that you know 
 it is, yet are trying to protect him." 
 
 There was a long silence while Ealph set his 
 wits to work. This girl doubted Tom ; she be- 
 lieved that there was some other matter than 
 business that was keeping him away; possibly 
 that there was some woman who was detain- 
 ing him. Of course, there was but need she
 
 76 In the Web of Life 
 
 know that the woman was no friend of Tom's? 
 
 As he reviewed the events of the past few 
 days a great temptation faced this man. He 
 was not in the habit of fighting temptations 
 vigorously. All his life when he had gotten 
 into scrapes there had been someone to get 
 him out of them as Tom was doing now. And 
 whenever Ralph Morton had wanted anything 
 he usually got it. He wanted this girl ; he had 
 loved her for years, although Tom had never 
 suspected this. How easy it would be now to 
 tell her again what he had as good as told her 
 often before that he loved her ! 
 
 While Edith sat at his side, waiting for his 
 denial of the justice of her suspicions, Ealph 
 Morton made a mental survey of his position. 
 
 The instruments for accomplishing his sud- 
 denly formed designs were laid ready to his 
 hand. Had he not a right to use them for his 
 own advantage? For only an instant did he 
 consider Tom his cousin, his friend kept 
 away from the woman he loved by his willing- 
 ness to help him, Ralph, out of trouble. He 
 put that thought from him with a mental shrug. 
 
 Sophistry rushed forward, as it always does 
 when one hesitates between right and wrong.
 
 In the Web of Life 77 
 
 Such sentences as "Everything's fair in love 
 and war," "The end justifies the means," 
 "Every man for himself," ran through his 
 mind. With such facile phrases he had slain 
 good impulses so often that now they had only 
 to show themselves to be felled to the ground 
 by the weapons of the sophist. Surely he, 
 Ralph Morton, had a right to the woman he 
 loved if she loved him. 
 
 He recalled some adage about "the heart 
 caught in the rebound." Might not Edith's 
 heart be thus caught? Or and his own heart 
 gave an excited leap might she not already 
 care for him? Could he possibly be blamed if 
 he let her decide the matter of her future for 
 herself and for him! 
 
 "Well? "Edith queried. 
 
 He came back to the present and his sur- 
 roundings with a guilty start. Edith was look- 
 ing at him inquiringly. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," he stammered. "Did 
 you ask me a question?" 
 
 "Some minutes ago," Edith said gravely, "I 
 suggested that you knew why Tom Morton is 
 not here to-night, but that you were trying to
 
 78 In the Web of Life 
 
 shield him. Your silence has been my answer. 
 I was right." 
 
 "Oh," Ealph protested feebly, "you must 
 not jump at conclusions, Edith. I have not inti- 
 mated that dear old Tom is not the finest, squar- 
 est chap in the world. Of course he is ! " 
 
 He felt that in speaking like this he was 
 doing Tom a kindness, indeed that he was ac- 
 tually sacrificing himself for his cousin's sake. 
 If the girl did not believe him he would not 
 be to blame. 
 
 But his manner had not been of the nature 
 to carry conviction. "Don't exert yourself to 
 be so loyal, Ealph," Edith counseled. "I un- 
 derstand. As I said a while ago, it is like you 
 to try to protect a friend. But you may spare 
 yourself the effort in this case. It is too late." 
 
 She caught her breath when her father ad- 
 dressed her suddenly: 
 
 "Edith, child," Mr. Hale was saying, "you 
 and Ealph were so intent upon some argument 
 that you did not hear your mother suggest 
 that you ladies go into the drawing room and 
 allow us men to join you there later after we 
 have had our smoke. ' ' 
 
 Was there a note of reproof or displeasure
 
 In the Web of Life 79 
 
 in his voice? Constance Medford wondered, 
 looking anxiously at the elderly man. Then as 
 he met her eyes he smiled so affectionately that 
 she smiled back at him. 
 
 "Dear child!" he murmured, as she passed 
 him on her way to the door. 
 
 It was but an affectionate phrase, yet it 
 warmed the fatherless girl's heart and she felt 
 a swift understanding of and sympathy with 
 her uncle. She was sure that he did not en- 
 tirely trust Kalph Morton. 
 
 Then she saw that Ralph had accompanied 
 Edith as far as the dining-room door and had 
 detained her there for a moment. Had Con- 
 stance Medford overheard his hurried words 
 she would have felt that John Hale was justified 
 in his doubts. 
 
 "What do you mean by 'too late'?" Ralph 
 was asking in a low voice. 
 
 The girl scarcely paused in replying. "Just 
 what I say. It is too late for you to try to 
 shield Tom now." 
 
 Then she passed on out into the hall with 
 the other girls who were following Mrs. Hale 
 into the drawing room. And, although Con- 
 stance watched her, she could see no sign of
 
 8o In the Web of Life 
 
 trouble on her cousin's face as she chatted 
 with her guests until the men came in from 
 the dining room, when she suggested music and 
 dancing. 
 
 When the merriment was at its height Edith 
 slipped unobserved from the room. Her head 
 ached and she longed to be alone for a few 
 minutes, away from the lights and the noise. 
 Going into the conservatory at the back of the 
 hall, she stood in the fragrant gloom, trying to 
 collect her thoughts. 
 
 Yet even here she was not to be left undis- 
 turbed, for the sudden ringing of the telephone 
 in the rear hall broke in upon her solitude. The 
 dance music kept those in the drawing room 
 from hearing the bell, and the servants were 
 evidently downstairs lingering long over their 
 evening meal. Hurrying out of the conserva- 
 tory, Edith answered the insistent summons. 
 She recognized the voice of Mrs. Morton, 
 Ealph's mother. 
 
 ' ' Why, Mrs. Morton ! ' ' exclaimed the girl. * ' I 
 am glad you are able to be up. Ealph made 
 us happy this evening by telling us that you are 
 better." 
 
 "Yes," answered Ralph's mother, "I'm bet-
 
 In the Web of Lift 
 
 ter. My telephone is here in my room so I 
 don't have to exert myself much to use it. I 
 just called up to repeat to Ealph a telegram 
 that has come to him over the phone. I don't 
 know that it's of any importance but I al- 
 ways think a telegram should be delivered at 
 once don't you? Is Ealph disengaged just 
 now?" 
 
 ' ' Just wait a minute and I '11 see, ' ' said Edith. 
 She ran softly down the hall and glanced into 
 the drawing room, where she saw Ealph danc- 
 ing with a girl who was somewhat of a wall- 
 flower and who was, evidently, having a beauti- 
 ful time. "He's dancing," Edith reported to 
 Mrs. Morton, "but I will call him if you wish." 
 
 "Oh, no," his mother replied quickly, "he 
 might not like being disturbed ! Can't you take 
 the message and deliver it to him the first 
 chance you get?" 
 
 "Certainly," agreed Edith. A pencil and 
 pad were on the table by the telephone. "I will 
 just write it down," she said. "Go on." 
 
 "Well, I jotted it down on a piece of paper 
 just as I got it. It is quite long for a tele- 
 gram. It says :
 
 82 In the Web of Life 
 
 " 'Your cousin brought money. F. saw Mm. 
 Thinks it was you. Be on your guard. ' 
 
 "Have you got it, Edith? And oh, yes 
 it's dated from Baltimore. I don't understand 
 what it's all about. But I suppose it's some- 
 thing that Ealph and Tom understand." 
 
 "Yes," said the girl in even tones, "I think 
 it is something that Kalph and Tom under- 
 stand. Good-night ! ' ' 
 
 It was with a dazed sensation that Edith 
 Hale stood still for a moment after returning 
 the telephone receiver to its hook. Her first 
 instinct was to seek solitude for reflection she 
 longed to run up to her room, lock herself in 
 and think out the situation alone. 
 
 This she must not do, for she might be missed 
 at any moment and sought by her father or 
 mother, and it would seem very strange if she 
 were out of earshot. But right here in the 
 conservatory she could be found at an instant's 
 notice. She simply could not face all those 
 people just yet. As this thought came to her 
 she glanced once more at the paper on which 
 she had written the telegraph message, folded 
 it, slipped it into the front of her dress and re-
 
 In the Web of Life 83 
 
 turned softly to the semi-darkness of the con- 
 servatory. 
 
 Walking to the rear of the glass enclosure, 
 she sank down upon a low wicker chair that 
 stood in a recess formed by the plants. Here 
 she was shielded from the sight of any one 
 passing the door. She leaned back and closed 
 her eyes wearily. Then, as she felt the tears 
 starting, she sat up straight. It would not do 
 for her to allow her tense nerves to relax yet. 
 She had a part to play, a plan to arrange. 
 
 First of all, what did this telegram mean? 
 There were only two persons besides the un- 
 known sender who could answer that question 
 Tom and Ealph Morton. One of them must 
 answer it, and the girl determined that Ealph 
 should speak the truth to her about it to-night. 
 
 Who was "E. P." and who was the "F" 
 who mistook Tom for Ealph? And why need 
 Ealph be on his guard? 
 
 A sudden idea flashed burningly through her 
 brain. Tom was doing something which he 
 wished to conceal; there was a possibility that 
 Ealph might be accused of it. Some friend was 
 warning him in time, before he could become
 
 84 In the Web of Life 
 
 a victim of Tom's efforts to masquerade as 
 Ealph Morton. 
 
 The girl's blood boiled with anger at the 
 thought -of Tom's perfidy. Of course there 
 was a woman in the case. Yet she had believed 
 that Tom loved her, that he really meant all 
 that he said of his happiness in their betrothal ! 
 She looked down at the solitaire diamond in 
 her engagement ring. Even in this dim light 
 the stone flashed with red and green gleams 
 as she moved her hand. An impulse made her 
 start to draw it from her finger, but voices at 
 the entrance of the conservatory checked her, 
 and, for the moment, she forgot all except the 
 sentences that came to her ears. 
 
 The speakers were Edward Dayton and 
 Beatrice Craig, the "wall-flower," with whom 
 Ealph had been dancing just now. Although 
 she cared little for dancing, Beatrice liked to 
 talk and had a predilection for gossip which 
 was so strong as to make her regardless of her 
 duty of reticence with regard to the persons 
 whose hospitality she was accepting. 
 
 "It's a lovely party, isn't it?" she was say- 
 ing, "but the rooms are getting so hot that it's 
 nice to find a cool place like this conservatory.
 
 In the Web of Life 85 
 
 Edith Hale's a lucky girl to have such a home 
 as this, even though" with a little giggle 
 ' ' rumor says she will not remain in it long. ' ' 
 
 The hidden listener had moved forward to 
 make her presence known, then as she heard her 
 own name her determination wavered and she 
 shrank back farther into the shadows cast by 
 the tall plants about her. 
 
 1 'Why?" Dayton asked. "Is she going 
 away?" 
 
 "Oh," Beatrice Craig replied, "I'm not 
 speaking by the card at all, but my mother 
 ran in to see Mrs. Morton to-day, and Mrs. 
 Morton mentioned that her son Ralph, you 
 know was coming here to dinner to-night and 
 hinted that there might be an interesting bit of 
 information given out this evening. I guessed 
 at once what it was, and I also noticed 
 that Edith's wearing a new ring. She has 
 several other beauties, too, but this one looks 
 mighty suspicious to me. Besides that, didn't 
 you see how she blushed when some one asked 
 where Tom Morton was?" 
 
 The man tried to laugh. He was not inter- 
 ested in gossip and this vapid kind of chat 
 irritated him.
 
 86 In the Web of Life 
 
 "Why, to tell the truth," he averred, "I was 
 having such a pleasant talk with my hostess, 
 and was enjoying myself so thoroughly, that 
 I did not take time to play amateur detec- 
 tive. " 
 
 Even in the dark Edith felt herself flush 
 with gratitude. What a nice man he was ! But 
 the speech that gratified her evidently produced 
 the opposite effect upon Miss Craig. 
 
 "I assure you that I am no amateur detec- 
 tive, Mr. Dayton!" she retorted. "But I do 
 not think it took any especial powers of obser- 
 vation to notice Edith's embarrassed manner 
 and, by the way where is Tom Morton to- 
 night? It certainly strikes me as queer that 
 he is not here, for I have shrewd suspicions 
 that he is the lucky man." 
 
 "I thought we were told at dinner that he 
 was detained by business," Dayton replied 
 coldly. 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed the girl, and there was 
 acidity in her high-pitched voice, "you men 
 always stand up for one another! Well, if I 
 were Edith Hale, and Tom Morton was engaged 
 to me and stayed away from my dinner, I 
 would "
 
 In the Web of Life 87 
 
 "Pardon me!" Edward Dayton interrupted 
 her, "but someone is playing a waltz which I 
 asked Miss Medford to dance with me. One 
 of the young ladies kindly consented to take 
 her place at the piano and give us a waltz of 
 which I am particularly fond so that I might 
 have the opportunity of dancing with Miss Med- 
 ford. As I must go and find my partner, may 
 I take you back to the drawing room?'* 
 
 They were gone and Edith Hale sprang to her 
 feet, her breath coming fast. 
 
 So that was what people were saying, was 
 it! It was careless of Ealph's mother to let 
 slip the bit of information of which the gossip 
 had made so much, yet if Tom had been present 
 to-night it would have been impossible for peo- 
 ple to draw disagreeable conclusions. This 
 was the kind of thing he was subjecting her to 
 by his underhand methods and false actions ! 
 
 She would find out the truth! The time had 
 come for action, and she meant to act. 
 
 And with head held high and lips compressed, 
 she started toward the drawing room. 
 
 She met her father as she was passing 
 through the hall.
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 "Well, daughter, dear," he said, "I was just 
 looking for you. Where have you been?" 
 
 "It was so hot in the drawing room that I 
 went into the conservatory for a few minutes, ' ' 
 she replied, avoiding his keen gaze. But he 
 was not to be put off thus, and laid a detaining 
 hand on her arm. 
 
 "Little girl," he said softly, "you are not 
 worrying, are you?" 
 
 Her self-control wavered, and to conceal this 
 fact she threw her arms about his neck and 
 kissed him, laughing tremulously. 
 
 "Why should I worry?" she parried. "You 
 are a dear, fussy old dad. Stop being anxious 
 about me and my worries for I'm all right, 
 always!" 
 
 "Good!" the parent exclaimed, patting her 
 cheek. In spite of his pleasure at the child's 
 sudden tenderness for him and her assurance 
 that she was ' ' all right, ' ' he was not quite sat- 
 isfied. "Her manner is too gay!" he com- 
 plained to himself. 
 
 Yet, as he followed her with his eyes and 
 saw her accept an invitation to dance, his fears 
 decreased. Surely, he mused, she was looking 
 happy, and she was certainly dancing charm-
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 ingly. As he noticed this, a smile of pride in 
 his daughter replaced the frown of perplexity 
 that his face had just worn. 
 
 Meanwhile Edith was pretending to give heed 
 to the occasional remarks of her partner. But 
 all the while she was conscious that Ralph was 
 standing in the embrasure formed by the bay 
 window, watching her. Once their glances met, 
 and he smiled swiftly and Edith smiled back. 
 Then, as the music stopped, and the young 
 people flocked toward the hall where the air 
 was cooler, she summoned Ealph to her side by 
 a lifting of the eyebrows. 
 
 "I must be with these people and talk for a 
 few minutes," she murmured as he joined her. 
 "Afterward arrange to stand by the piano, for 
 I am going to play for them all to dance. ' ' 
 
 He bowed in silence, although he felt an un- 
 easy dread. What did she want to say to him 
 that required such planning? Would she make 
 his scheme to win her easy, or had he done 
 something that displeased her? 
 
 He waited near her in uncomfortable ex- 
 pectancy for fifteen minutes while she moved 
 about among her guests. At last she proposed 
 a Virginia reel and summoned the various
 
 90 In the Web of Life 
 
 couples into the great square hall even insist- 
 ing that her father and mother take part in the 
 old-fashioned dance which, as girl and boy, they 
 had enjoyed together. 
 
 "Constance is going to dance, too," Edith de- 
 clared, "for I don't care for the Virginia reel 
 and I'll take her place at the piano. Ealph," 
 turning suddenly to the man at her side, * ' come 
 on in and talk to me while I play 'Pop Goes 
 the Weasel' for these giddy creatures to 
 dance. ' ' 
 
 "Oh, no," Constance protested, "you dance, 
 Edith, and let me play." 
 
 But already Edward Dayton had stepped for- 
 ward to claim Constance as a partner, and 
 Edith shook her head. 
 
 "No, indeed, Connie," she laughed, as she 
 hurried away, "I tell you I don't want to dance 
 now. ' ' 
 
 She seated herself at the piano in the draw- 
 ing room, and the reel began. Ealph stood at 
 her side, seeming to watch, with her, the com- 
 pany in the hall. She said nothing until the 
 dance was so well under way that she and her 
 companion were forgotten by the merry-mak- 
 ers, then she spoke in a low, tense tone.
 
 In the Web of Life 91 
 
 "I am going to put you on your honor, Ralph, 
 to tell me the truth. You may as well tell it, 
 for I know a part of it already. Who is the 
 person in Baltimore whose initials are 'E. P."?" 
 
 The man started. How much did she know? 
 Well, it would commit him to nothing to tell 
 the truth about this one thing. 
 
 " 'E. P.'?" he repeated, as if pondering. 
 "Why the only person I can think of in Balti- 
 more with those initials is a Mrs. Price Mrs. 
 Evelyn Price. ' ' 
 
 The fingers on the keys did not falter in their 
 regular performance of their duty. It takes lit- 
 tle thought or concentration to play * * Pop Goes 
 the Weasel" over and over. Edith assimilated 
 the bit of information she had received before 
 she asked another question. 
 
 "What is her husband's first name?" 
 
 "I I think it is ' Ferdinand,' " Ralph said. 
 He tried to speak lightly. 
 
 "Do you know Mrs. Price?" was the next 
 question. 
 
 "I have met her that is yes, I know her," 
 he stammered. 
 
 "And" she hesitated only a moment 
 "Tom knows her, doesn't he?"
 
 92 In the Web of Life 
 
 "I think he does," he admitted. 
 
 The girl looked at him so suddenly that for 
 the second time he started nervously. 
 
 "Why not tell me the truth?" she demanded. 
 1 ' Why shield Tom ? He knows her, doesn 't he ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes," the man muttered. 
 
 "And he has been with her in Baltimore, 
 hasn't he?" 
 
 "Edith!" protested Ralph. "This is not 
 fair!" 
 
 "No," she replied, "not fair to question you 
 about him nor is it necessary for I know all 
 about it." 
 
 She said no more, and her companion stood 
 wondering. At last she raised her eyes again 
 to him, and there was a hard glint in their 
 brown depths. 
 
 "People are saying that I am engaged to 
 Tom," she hurried on, "and that he has not 
 cared to be here to-night. I am not engaged to 
 him do you hear? I want you to say that to 
 anyone who will listen to it. That's all I ask 
 of you." 
 
 The dance was ended, and she played the final 
 notes of the reel with a dash and abandon that 
 brought a round of applause from the breath-
 
 In the Web of Life 93 
 
 less and panting dancers. Then, as she rose 
 from the piano stool, she quickly drew the tele- 
 gram from her dress and slipped it into Ralph's 
 hand. 
 
 "Read that!" she ordered. "It was tele- 
 graphed to your house ; your mother telephoned 
 it over. Now you will understand how I know. ' ' 
 
 A moment later she was out in the hall, jest- 
 ing with her father and mother, and telling 
 them that they were the "youngest-looking 
 couple in the entire dance."
 
 Chapter Seven 
 
 Ealph Morton remained standing by the 
 piano after Edith had left him. His back was 
 turned to the hall where the guests and hosts 
 were chatting merrily. Unfolding the message 
 the girl had handed him, he read and re-read it. 
 He was mortified when he noticed that his hand 
 trembled as he held the slip of paper. 
 
 "Your cousin brought money. F. saw him. 
 Thinks it was you. Be on your guard. 
 
 "E. P." 
 
 And Edith had seen this ! He gasped in con- 
 sternation as he appreciated this, then sighed 
 with relief as he recalled their recent conver- 
 sation. How fortunate that he had spoken the 
 truth ! He had acknowledged that " E. P. " was 
 Mrs. Evelyn Price, and that he knew her ; that 
 her husband's name was Ferdinand. 
 
 What else had Edith asked him? Oh, yes 
 if Tom knew Mrs. Price. He did not blame 
 himself for acknowledging that Tom did know 
 
 94
 
 In the Web of Life 95 
 
 her. How could lie have been truthful and said 
 otherwise ! 
 
 The laughing and talking in the hall broke in 
 upon his musings. He felt, as Edith had felt 
 less than an hour ago, that he must get away 
 from all these people for a while. Glancing 
 down the room, he saw that one of the long 
 French windows at the rear, opening upon the 
 veranda, was open. He strolled toward it and 
 stepped from the brilliantly lighted interior out 
 into the dusk of the spring night. 
 
 The back veranda faced the orchard, and the 
 soft wind wafted to him the odor of the blos- 
 soming fruit trees. The moonlight flooded the 
 lawns and made the place look like fairyland. 
 
 Even Ralph Morton, absorbed as he was in 
 thoughts of himself and his own schemes, 
 paused to draw in a long breath of sweetness 
 and to note the beauty of the night. Going 
 down the steps, he began to walk up and down 
 the asphalted path leading out toward the ga- 
 rage. Here, at least, he could be quiet and 
 think. 
 
 He had read the telegram twice, and now re- 
 peated to himself every phrase of it. He must 
 be sure of the explanation he was to give to
 
 96 In the Web of Life 
 
 Edith. What about the money? How could 
 he explain the clause about that? How could 
 he tell her that he had borrowed it from Mrs. 
 Price and sent Tom to return it? 
 
 An idea flashed upon him so suddenly that he 
 came to an abrupt standstill. Mrs. Price had 
 not intimated that the money had come from 
 him. She had simply said that his cousin had 
 brought the money. Moreover, the money was 
 not his, but Tom's for he (Ralph) had not 
 had the money to pay the debt, so Tom had 
 supplied it. 
 
 But what reason could he give for Evelyn's 
 word of caution to himself? Well, he could 
 suggest that as Mr. Price knew neither of the 
 cousins, and had heard his wife speak of hav- 
 ing met Ralph, he had jumped to the conclu- 
 sion that Tom was Ralph. He need tell only 
 what was necessary. He could even claim that 
 he had no right to pry into Tom's affairs. 
 Edith would be too proud to ask many ques- 
 tions. Her imagination would supply details 
 which he might seem to hesitate to give. The 
 nature of the case would make her shrink from 
 too close investigation, and she would attribute 
 any silence on his part to loyalty to Tom.
 
 In the Web of Life 97 
 
 Loyalty to Tom! For a moment he felt a 
 slight qualm of conscience. Then he quieted it 
 with a hot indignation at Tom's having bun- 
 gled the whole affair, as he evidently had done. 
 What a blunderer Tom was ! A boy of fifteen 
 could have managed the matter better ! Ealph 
 Morton simulated and stimulated resentment 
 and indignation until he made himself believe 
 that he felt both. 
 
 J. Macdougall Hay speaks of conscience as 
 the handcuff to bind men to God. Sometimes 
 men use self-deception or self -justification as a 
 key to unlock the handcuff. Ralph Morton had 
 little trouble in doing this. He had used the 
 key so often that he found it easy to insert it 
 into the lock for which he needed it to-night. 
 
 With a thrill of self -congratulation he turned 
 and started toward the house. Entering by the 
 window by which he had gone out, he traversed 
 the drawing room and reached the hall as the 
 guests were making a move toward departure. 
 Several motor cars were drawn up in front of 
 the house. The girls were starting up to the 
 dressing room to don their wraps. 
 
 "I have just been out in the garden for a few 
 puffs at a cigarette," Ralph remarked to his
 
 98 In the Web of Life 
 
 host. " It is a heavenly night. ' ' Perhaps some- 
 one had seen him go out. It was well to tell the 
 truth when one could do so with safety. 
 
 "Indeed, it is a fine night, " remarked Mr. 
 Hale, looking out of the open front door. 
 "There is a glorious moon," he called back as 
 he stepped out upon the porch. "You fellows 
 inside are missing it." 
 
 All the men except Ralph followed him. 
 Edith spoke to Constance in a low voice : "Will 
 you go upstairs to the dressing room with the 
 girls?" she asked. "If so, I will stay down 
 here." 
 
 "Certainly," agreed Constance, joining the 
 group on the stairs. 
 
 Mrs. Hale had gone to the rear of the house 
 to give some forgotten order for the morning, 
 and Ralph and Edith were thus left alone. The 
 girl laid a trembling hand on the man's arm. 
 
 "You read the telegram!" she asked. 
 
 He covered her hand with his own, holding 
 hers close. "Yes, dear," he replied. "I am 
 sorry you should have seen it." 
 
 "I am not," she said. "I knew there were 
 men who were not good and that there were 
 women like the one that "
 
 In the Web of Life 99 
 
 She paused, covering her eyes with her free 
 hand. "Oh," she shuddered, "such things 
 make me hate life ! ' ' 
 
 "But, Edith," he suggested, "you don't un- 
 derstand the telegram." 
 
 She dropped her hand from her eyes and 
 faced him, her lips trembling. 
 
 "Listen," she said, trying to steady her 
 voice, "I understand enough to know that Tom 
 has done something about which I don't want 
 to hear; that he used your name for a shield, 
 and that the the woman even though she is 
 bad, warned you of this. Probably she and 
 Tom have quarreled perhaps because of his 
 engagement. Perhaps he has tried to buy her 
 off. Oh" snatching her hand from his clasp, 
 and twisting her fingers together in an agony 
 of mortification "the shame of it all! That I 
 should have trusted him ! What will the people 
 who are saying that I am engaged to him think 
 now if they learn 
 
 She paused, for the girls were coming along 
 the upper hall toward the stairs. 
 
 "Why not let them think," the man said hur- 
 riedly and softly, "that you are engaged to me? 
 Why not, darling?"
 
 IOO In the Web of Life 
 
 When the significance of Ealph Morton's un- 
 expected proposition broke upon Edith Hale's 
 mind, all the color left her face. 
 
 "What do you mean?" she gasped. 
 
 He glanced apprehensively toward the stair- 
 case, but the girls had paused in the upper hall 
 to wait for one of their group. He heard one 
 of them call out, "Come along, Emily! We're 
 waiting for you," and the reply: "I'm coming 
 in a minute just as soon as I can arrange this 
 pesky scarf over my head!" 
 
 Ealph spoke hurriedly: "I mean that I love 
 you, Edith. You know I do. You may not 
 think you love me, but I will be willing to wait 
 until you do. I cannot expect that you care 
 for me yet as much as you have cared for 
 Tom." 
 
 He had chosen his words cleverly, and the 
 girl threw back her head with a disdainful ges- 
 ture. "Tom!" she exclaimed. "I never 
 want to hear his name again! I never loved 
 him, although I was so foolish as to think I did. 
 Now I hate him ! ' ' 
 
 "You don't hate me, dear," Ealph reminded 
 her. "Give me a trial, Edith. I don't ask you 
 to love me now. You may banish me later if
 
 In the Web of Life 101 
 
 you like. But, dearest, I love you so much that 
 I want to put myself at your service. If peo- 
 ple are gossiping about your engagement to 
 Tom, say you are engaged to me. ' ' 
 
 "But I'm not!" she whispered tremulously. 
 
 "You are if you say you are," he urged. 
 "You can break your engagement as soon as 
 you want to, and have it known that you broke 
 it. But, dear, use me as a shield now." 
 
 She caught her breath sharply. "As Tom 
 did!" she sneered. 
 
 "Edith!" the man exclaimed. "Do not put 
 yourself in such a category! No, not as Tom 
 did, but as you, the woman I love, have a right 
 to do to honor me by shielding yourself from 
 gossip by using my name." 
 
 "How good you are!" she said. 
 
 The girls were coming to the head of the 
 stairs. He held her hands in his for a moment. 
 "Will you be engaged to me, darling?" he 
 asked eagerly. 
 
 His face was white, his eyes burning. Her 
 own eyes fell before his gaze. "Yes," she 
 whispered. 
 
 He raised her hands to his lips. Nor did he 
 hurry the action. All need of haste was past
 
 IO2 In the Web of Life 
 
 now. He did not care if he and Edith were seen 
 in their present attitude. "Darling!" he mur- 
 mured. 
 
 Beatrice Craig, leading the bevy of girls com- 
 ing down from the dressing room, stopped short 
 on the stairs. 
 
 "Oh," she exclaimed, with a giggle, "I fear 
 we intrude!" 
 
 Edith snatched her hands from Ealph's 
 grasp, a flood of crimson color flowing over her 
 face and neck. Beatrice ran swiftly down the 
 stairs and threw her arms about the blushing 
 girl, laughing loudly as she did so. 
 
 "Oh!" she gushed. "You need not look so 
 ashamed even if you have surprised us all ! I 
 thought all the time that it was Tom ! Now I 
 understand why he was not here to-night. ' ' 
 
 "Hush!" Edith begged, glancing nervously 
 at the others, who had heard only a part of 
 Beatrice's speech. 
 
 Beatrice lowered her voice, but repeated her 
 remark: "I thought it was Tom and so did 
 everybody else ! ' ' 
 
 "Well, you see," said Edith gravely, "every- 
 body was mistaken."
 
 In the Web of Life 103 
 
 The gossip held out her hand to Ealph. "My 
 warmest congratulations!" she giggled. 
 
 "Please, Beatrice," Edith pleaded, "don't 
 talk about it now!" 
 
 "What's all this secrecy about?" the other 
 girls demanded teasingly, gathering about 
 Edith and Ralph. 
 
 "About nothing!" Edith declared, pulling 
 away from them and running to the front door. 
 Here she paused and looked back, her face sud- 
 denly serious. "If you girls are my friends," 
 she said in tense tones, "you won't ask me any 
 more questions." 
 
 "All right!" Beatrice agreed, while those 
 who had not fully comprehended the situation 
 looked puzzled. Before further comment could 
 be made, Edith had stepped out upon the ve- 
 randa, calling gayly : 
 
 "Where are you ungallant men when your 
 ladies are waiting here for you to escort them 
 home?" 
 
 "We're all coming in now," Mr. Hale an- 
 swered from the end of the veranda. "We've 
 just been gazing at the old moon up there." 
 
 He was standing near his daughter when 
 Beatrice Craig bade her good-night. "It's been
 
 IO4 In the Web of Life 
 
 a lovely affair, Edith, ' ' she said, ' ' and I do hope 
 you are always going to be as happy as you are 
 to-night." 
 
 "Thank you!" Edith rejoined faintly. 
 
 "And, as for you," Beatrice said, turning to 
 Ealph, "you are a mighty lucky man !" 
 
 John Hale started violently. He stepped for- 
 ward, as if to speak, then checked himself. 
 Edith, noting this, acted quickly. It would not 
 do for Ealph to be here when her father asked 
 her the question that she knew would be sure 
 to come. 
 
 "Ealph," she suggested, "I wish you would 
 take Beatrice home. I don't like her to go 
 alone." 
 
 "But," protested Emily Bruce, one of the 
 guests, "as Beatrice is spending the night with 
 me, I am going to take her in my motor." 
 
 "Nevertheless, Miss Bruce," Ealph inter- 
 posed, "there is no reason why I should not 
 ride with you two young ladies to your destina- 
 tion." 
 
 The last guest had gone, and Edith turned to 
 Constance as she entered the house. "Connie," 
 she said, "I'm going to bed. I'm fearfully 
 tired."
 
 In the Web of Life 105 
 
 "Yes, dearie, do go to bed," Mrs. Hale urged. 
 
 John Hale looked into his daughter's eyes as 
 she returned his good-night kiss. "Child," he 
 asked, "what did Miss Craig mean by her 
 speech to you just now? Does she know that 
 you are engaged to Tom?" 
 
 The girl flung out her arms with a movement 
 of passionate weariness. 
 
 "No!" she exclaimed. "Because I am not 
 engaged -to Tom and you may as well know 
 it now I am engaged to Ealph Morton ! ' ' 
 
 It was well on toward morning, and Con- 
 stance Medford was not asleep. Indeed, she 
 had not gone to bed until after two o'clock. 
 Now, lying in the dusky room, she went over in 
 her mind the events of the past two hours. All 
 the evening she had been vaguely uneasy, and, 
 in spite of the fact that she had told herself 
 that she was foolishly anxious, she had not been 
 able to free herself of the consciousness that 
 Edith was unhappy and that Ealph was watch- 
 ing her. She, Constance, was scarcely sur- 
 prised by the glimpse she had of the pair as 
 she and the other girls came in sight of the 
 lower hall in descending from the dressing
 
 io6 In the Web of Life 
 
 room. She had not joined in the exclamations 
 with which Beatrice Craig had called attention 
 to the tableau. Her very heart was sick, for 
 she remembered Tom Morton. 
 
 And through the painful scene that followed 
 the departure of the guests she had remem- 
 bered him. John Hale had not been harsh with 
 his daughter, but he was pale and shaken as 
 Edith repeated the telegraphed message that 
 had come for Ralph. 
 
 "I cannot believe that Tom can have done 
 anything dishonorable," the father had de- 
 clared, when the girl voiced her doubts. * * Just 
 because he has been detained by unexpected 
 business is no reason for suspecting the man 
 who loves you." 
 
 There was a look of reproach in his kind 
 eyes, and Edith saw it. It may have been this 
 that moved her to tell him of the telegram. She 
 flushed and stammered in doing this, and John 
 Hale stood stunned and silent as she talked. 
 
 "I don't understand it," he muttered at last. 
 "Have you that telegram now?" 
 
 "No, father," she replied. "I gave it to 
 Ralph. It was his." 
 
 Here Mrs. Hale had broken in upon the con-
 
 In the Web of Life 107 
 
 versation with a query that was so characteris- 
 tic of her gentle and romantic temperament that 
 Constance, even in her distress, almost smiled. 
 
 1 1 Edith, darling, ' ' the mother had asked, ' ' the 
 only really important thing is Do you love 
 Ealph ? For, of course, you must love him 
 dearly to be engaged to him." 
 
 The girl looked at her mother dully. * * I don 't 
 know," she said slowly, " whether I love him 
 much or not. But I don't love Tom any more. 
 And Tom doesn't love me and Ealph does." 
 
 "But Tom does love you!" exclaimed the 
 mother. "And he is such a dear, good man!" 
 
 "Good!" Edith ejaculated scornfully. 
 "Would a good man have paid money to a 
 married woman, and, when her husband saw 
 him, pretend that he was another person, 
 and that person his own cousin and friend? Is 
 that being good? If so, Heaven deliver me 
 from good men!" 
 
 She sprang to her feet, and began to walk 
 up and down the room, her hands clenched. 
 
 "Dear," her father said, "I know all this 
 looks very black, but until I see the telegram 
 myself I cannot believe that there is not some 
 mistake. Perhaps Ealph 's mother did not get
 
 io8 In the Web of Life 
 
 the message straight. I must have him go to 
 the office and bring me the original. ' ' 
 
 The girl shuddered. "Oh, daddy," she 
 wailed, "what is the use of raking up all this 
 horrible, disgusting Baltimore affair! Isn't it 
 bad enough as it is f " 
 
 But her father was firm. He would sift this 
 matter out, and she must let him tell her all that 
 he learned. It was a serious thing, he said, to 
 condemn a man unheard. Tom should have a 
 chance to speak for himself, to explain his ac- 
 tions. 
 
 As she listened, Constance found her heart 
 warming more than ever to her uncle. He knew 
 Tom, he appreciated how impossible it would 
 be for a man like Tom Morton to be guilty of 
 the evil of which he was accused, of which Ealph 
 had allowed him to be accused. Her anger rose 
 as she appreciated Ralph's attitude in this mat- 
 ter. How dared he take advantage of Tom's 
 absence and of Edith's misery to make love to 
 the girl? 
 
 Mrs. Hale went to her child and put her 
 arms about her. "Darling," she pleaded, 
 ' ' come upstairs with me and go to bed ! ' ' 
 
 Without another word, Edith obeyed, and
 
 In the Web of Life 109 
 
 John Hale and Ms wife 's niece were left down- 
 stairs alone. As the perplexed father turned 
 to his companion he noted her clear gray eyes, 
 her clean-cut, intellectual profile, and drew a 
 breath that sounded like an expression of re- 
 lief. 
 
 "What do you think, girlie?" he asked. 
 
 She answered him frankly: "I don't know 
 just what to think, uncle. But there is one 
 thing I am sure of: Tom Morton is a good 
 man. ' ' 
 
 John Hale held out his hand to her. l ' Thank 
 you!" he said simply. "You are a great com- 
 fort to me, child. I don't want my little girl to 
 marry Ralph Morton. I don't entirely" he 
 hesitated, then continued "I don't entirely ap- 
 prove of him, though, of course, he is only what 
 any spoiled son of a widowed mother might 
 be." 
 
 Lying awake now, she remembered his pause. 
 Was he going to say: "I do not entirely trust 
 him," and had checked himself? If so, he and 
 Constance felt alike. 
 
 She had spoken nothing of this when her 
 cousin asked her to come and sit by her for a 
 while. "I think I can sleep," Edith said, "if
 
 no In the Web of Life 
 
 you sit here on the bed by me and stroke my 
 forehead." 
 
 So for an hour Constance Medford sat strok- 
 ing the nervous sufferer's forehead. At last, 
 when the longed-for sleep had come to the 
 daughter of the house, the orphan crept off to 
 her own room and to bed. But the last thing 
 she did before she slept was to kneel down and 
 send up a little prayer for Tom. She wished 
 that he, in his lonely apartment in New York, 
 could know that she was thinking of him and 
 trusting him. Then, as she found herself wish- 
 ing this, she blushed in the dark and called her- 
 self a silly fool who was meddling in some- 
 thing that was none of her business. 
 
 She tried to believe that it was only interest 
 in her cousin that made her so sorry for Tom 
 Morton.
 
 Chapter Eight 
 
 Ealph Morton would have denied the accu- 
 sation that he was past master in the art of 
 self-deception. Indeed, he had reached the 
 point where he was so completely self-deceived 
 that it was not difficult for him to believe that 
 he dealt honestly with himself. Therefore, he 
 had not acknowledged to his own soul that his 
 feeling for Edith was partly admiration of her 
 beauty, and affection of a sort, mingled with a 
 desire for the good things of this world for 
 which she stood. Yet away back in his mind 
 was always the consciousness that she was the 
 only child of a rich man. 
 
 When Tom had told Ealph of his engagement, 
 the younger man had congratulated his cousin, 
 but later he had smiled cynically in remember- 
 ing that ' ' Tom had been foxy enough to feather 
 his own nest well." The mixed metaphor did 
 not disturb him. He was thinking of what he 
 considered Tom's inconsistencies not his own. 
 
 So to-night, while he chatted with the two 
 girls whom he was escorting home, he was 
 in
 
 112 In the Web of Life 
 
 aware of a subtle feeling of triumph. He 
 laughed at all the teasing remarks of his com- 
 panions, although he refused with mock gravity 
 to say anything about the bit of news of which 
 Beatrice made much. Yet so merrily did he de- 
 cline to discuss the subject that he left the 
 girls in an uncertain state of mind as to just 
 how much was true with regard to his engage- 
 ment to Edith and whether or not they might 
 pass on the interesting bit of information. 
 
 When they reached the Bruce house Ralph 
 Morton sprang out of the automobile and as- 
 sisted his companions to alight; then, after 
 escorting them up the steps to the front door, 
 held out his hand to say good-night. 
 
 1 'But," Emily Bruce protested, "you must 
 let my man take you home, Mr. Morton. You 
 are a mile away from your own house." 
 
 "Thank you ever so much," he replied, "but 
 really I want to take a walk in this wonderful 
 moonlight. I shall sleep better for doing so." 
 
 He was glad to be alone again as he strode 
 along the asphalted road stretching between the 
 Bruce estate and his mother's place. He had 
 much to think of. He could hardly believe in 
 his own good fortune. Here, after all these
 
 In the Web of Life 113 
 
 years in which he had thought of marriage with 
 Edith Hale as the culmination of his dreams of 
 happiness and comfort years which had 
 brought about at last the engagement of his 
 cousin to the woman for whom he Ralph 
 longed here he was at last the betrothed of 
 the one girl in all the world whom he wished to 
 marry ! 
 
 Had not Fate played into his hand, and had 
 he not played his own cards well I 
 
 The figure reminded him with a disagreeable 
 jar of his last game of cards ; of the money he 
 had lost and of Tom's having paid his debt for 
 Mm. The reminder was not an agreeable one, 
 and he determined that he would refund that 
 money at once. 
 
 He gnawed the end of his mustache as he con- 
 sidered how little ready money he had at his 
 command. His mother, though an invalid, had 
 never laid down the reins of power. She was 
 not rich, and while she was perfectly willing to 
 give Ealph such funds as he told her he needed, 
 she would not let him manage her moderate in- 
 come. She did not live extravagantly herself, 
 yet she had brought up her son in comfort and 
 luxury.
 
 114 In the Web of Life 
 
 John Hale had been right in saying that 
 Ealph "played at law." There was always 
 some excuse for his not working hard an ex- 
 ciise which his fond parent was ever ready to 
 accept, for she liked to keep her boy at home 
 and near her. She had given him, last year, 
 an automobile runabout, and since he had 
 owned this he had gone to his office more sel- 
 dom than before. When he expressed a wish 
 for anything, she would ask him what it would 
 cost, then give him the money with which to 
 buy it, but except upon the many occasions 
 when he named larger sums than he needed, he 
 had no money of his own. That he did not hesi- 
 tate to sacrifice truth when talking to his 
 mother was due the fact that he sometimes had 
 funds to spend in ways of which she would have 
 disapproved. 
 
 To have money doled out to him as he needs 
 it by any woman be she mother or wife 
 weakens the ambition and lessens the self-re- 
 spect of any man unless he be exceptionally 
 strong and independent. Ealph Morton had 
 reached the deplorable state where he did not 
 object to receiving money from his mother, but 
 accepted it as his due. Would it not all come
 
 In the Web of Life 115 
 
 to him, anyway, when she died? Therefore he 
 felt under no especial obligations to her. She 
 was only giving hi in advance a bit of that 
 which would some time be altogether his own. 
 
 Now, walking along the deserted streets of 
 Homewood, he appreciated that if he was to 
 pay his financial debt to Tom Morton he must 
 invent some plausible tale to tell his mother. 
 He was pretty sure that he could trust his ready 
 wits to prompt him along this line. 
 
 First of all, he would surprise her by the an- 
 nouncement of his engagement to Edith. He 
 knew, of course, that she would be pleased. He 
 was glad to think of this. It made him feel self- 
 satisfied to reflect that through him a joy was 
 coming into her life. He found himself eager 
 to talk the matter over with her, and quickened 
 his pace to reach home sooner. He noticed with 
 a thrill of pleasurable anticipation as he turned 
 in at his gate that there was a light still burn- 
 ing in his mother 's room. She often lay in bed 
 and read until toward midnight. She evidently 
 had been doing this to-night, and was, there- 
 fore, awake. Perhaps she had been hoping he 
 would come home in time to talk with her be- 
 fore he slept.
 
 Ii6 In the Web of Life 
 
 Fitting his key into the latch, he entered the 
 house and closed the door softly behind him. 
 But he had not been so quiet that his mother 
 had not heard him. 
 
 "Darling!" she called from her room. 
 
 "Yes, mother!" he called back blithely. 
 
 "I'm awake and waiting for you," she said. 
 "Come on upstairs, dearest." 
 
 Ealph ran lightly up the stairs and paused in 
 the door of his mother's room. Mrs. Morton 
 was in bed, propped up among her pillows, and 
 she greeted her son with a smile. 
 
 "You haven't been lying awake worrying 
 about me, I hope," Ealph said. 
 
 Then he bent down and kissed her, glancing 
 approvingly at the pretty boudoir jacket she 
 wore over her night dress and at the cap with 
 ribbons to match the jacket. 
 
 "Gee! how sweet you look all frilled up!" he 
 exclaimed. "But you always do look dainty 
 and pretty, dear mother mine ! ' ' 
 
 A thrill of joy brought color to the woman's 
 pale cheeks. It was by such comments and 
 phrases as these that Ralph Morton made his 
 mother ignore his lack of some of the sterner 
 virtues. He was all she had, and, like other
 
 In the Web of Life 117 
 
 mothers of sons, she expanded and glowed un- 
 der his expressions of admiration and affection. 
 Many a man cajoles his mother by such tactics 
 when he would not sacrifice his selfish indul- 
 gence to buy her happiness. One is sometimes 
 forced to the conclusion that the proverbial 
 blindness of a girl with her sweetheart is sur- 
 passed by the credulity of a mother with her 
 only son. What his life is she forgives when 
 he lavishes a few easy caresses and endearing 
 epithets upon her. So to-night there was a 
 light of happiness in the invalid's eyes as her 
 son took his seat by her side and held her hand 
 in his. 
 
 "Tell me about the dinner," she urged. "I 
 stayed awake to hear all about it. Was there 
 any announcement of Edith's engagement to 
 Tom?" 
 
 Ralph hesitated, and his voice trembled when 
 he replied. * * There was an intimation that she 
 is engaged. But not to Tom, mother. Guess to 
 whom ! ' ' 
 
 Her eyes widened as she looked into his face. 
 "You don't mean," she gasped "not to " 
 
 "Yes!" he interrupted, laughing excitedly, 
 "I do mean just that, mother mine to me me
 
 Ii8 In the Web of Life 
 
 the man who has loved her all these years! 
 Oh, my dear, I can't believe in my own good 
 fortune I" 
 
 "Thank God!" his mother breathed. "She 
 is a sweet girl, Ealph. ' * She paused, musing a 
 moment before she spoke again. "And to think 
 it is you she loves, and not Tom ! ' ' she said at 
 last. "Oh, my boy, I am so glad! Tell me all 
 about it." 
 
 The pair talked for an hour, Ealph giving his 
 own version of the affair. Of course, he said, 
 Edith must have cared for him all along, or 
 she would not have been suspicious of Tom's 
 absence from home. Ealph preferred, he 
 averred, not to go too deeply into that matter, 
 for he was sorry for poor old Tom, whom he 
 was fond of in spite of some things that were 
 hard to explain. 
 
 And then, tactfully, he intimated that under 
 the circumstances he would like to hand over a 
 little money to Tom to settle a small business 
 transaction between himself and his cousin 
 and if his mother did not mind he would rather 
 not particularize about this, either. It would 
 not be quite fair to Tom to do so. But now that 
 he, Ealph, was so happy it was only natural
 
 In the Web of Life 119 
 
 that he should long to do the square thing by 
 Tom. 
 
 His mother praised him for this feeling, and 
 loved him the better for it. Yet why should 
 Tom, who had a good business, need jnoney? 
 Still, she would ask no questions, since Ealph 
 urged her not to. She would give him a check 
 for the sum he suggested. He was always her 
 dear, fine, noble son! 
 
 Ealph Morton's mother had told him this so 
 often that he was almost convinced that he was 
 all she declared him to be. 
 
 It was when he was on his feet, telling her 
 good-night, that she spoke out the thought that 
 had been in her mind, as it had been in Ealph 's, 
 during all their conversation. She expressed it 
 gently, hesitatingly: 
 
 "Yes, as I said, Edith is a sweet girl. And, 
 darling, it gives me a sensation of peace to re- 
 member that she is not a poor girl. It is so 
 hard for young people to begin life without a 
 margin to work on." 
 
 "For her sake, I am glad she has money," 
 Ealph admitted. "Although, I assure you, 
 mother, the thought of her father's wealth has 
 not entered my mind. I should love her and
 
 120 In the Web of Life 
 
 long to marry her if she were penniless. Of 
 course I would never touch a cent of her money 
 anyway." 
 
 "Of course not," rejoined the mother. 
 
 Parent and son told themselves that they 
 were speaking the truth. Yet in the heart of 
 each was the consciousness though unacknowl- 
 edged that neither was really deceiving the 
 other. It is sometimes easier to deceive one's 
 self than the person with whom one is talking. 
 
 Still, Mrs. Morton was certain that Ralph 
 was a dear, self-sacrificing fellow, who was try- 
 ing to get Tom out of some scrape into which 
 he had been led through lack of principle. It 
 was too bad that Tom had not a stronger will. 
 What could he have done to be in such need of 
 ready money? Well, it was none of her busi- 
 ness, and Ealph had requested her not to pry 
 into the affair. She would do as he said he 
 was so good. She was glad that poor, erring 
 Tom had no mother to grieve over him. 
 
 As she fell asleep there was on her lips the 
 prayer uttered by many another mother of an 
 only son a prayer constructed along the lines 
 of the Pharisaical exclamation quoted two
 
 In the Web of Life 121 
 
 thousand years ago: "Lord, I thank Thee that 
 my son is not as other sons are ! ' ' 
 
 There was no prayer on Ralph Morton's lips 
 that night, but instead there was a smile of self- 
 satisfaction. Things were at last coming his 
 way! 
 
 Down in New York, Tom Morton was striving 
 to forget his worries in slumber. He would 
 surely get a letter from Edith in the morning. 
 
 "Of course she will trust me," he muttered. 
 
 Then memory of the vexation she had felt 
 when he last telephoned her stabbed him. All 
 girls were inclined to be suspicious, he sup- 
 posed. Suddenly, as if in refutation of his 
 cynical supposition, there arose before his 
 mind's eye the face of Constance Medford the 
 sweet, yet firm mouth, the grave, earnest eyes, 
 the waves of soft brown hair, and he was 
 ashamed of his pessimism. The thought of her 
 calmed him, and he found himself floating off 
 into the land of dreams. 
 
 So, after all, Constance was his last waking 
 thought on this May night, as he was hers. Per- 
 haps there is more in telepathy than some scoff- 
 ers acknowledge.
 
 Chapter Nme 
 
 "It's all de mail what's came, suh." 
 
 Washington, Tom Morton's nineteen-year- 
 old colored boy-of-all-work, said the words re- 
 gretfully as he laid sundry uninteresting-look- 
 ing envelopes beside his master's plate at the 
 breakfast table. Tom spoke with an indiffer- 
 ence which he was far from feeling. 
 
 "That's all right, Wash. Bring in my cof- 
 fee, please." 
 
 The colored boy shook his head as he went 
 into the tiny kitchen and poured out the steam- 
 ing beverage. "I'm right sartain," he mused, 
 "dat Mr. Mo 'ton ain't ben goin' out to dat 
 Homewood place so much all dese weeks jest 
 for de good ob his hailth. An' I sure did 'spect 
 dat dere would be a letter in a lady's han'- 
 writin' fur him dis mornin'. I'm mighty sorry 
 dare ain't!" 
 
 When alone, Washington allowed himself 
 
 liberty of thought and whispered mutterings 
 
 in the dialect of his race. When, however, he 
 
 spoke to a white person, he aped the bearing 
 
 122
 
 In the Web of Life 123 
 
 and language of his master in a way that 
 brought a smile to the lips of that master's 
 friends. The negro is a marvelous mimic and 
 copies the manners of a beloved employer with 
 an ease and enjoyment that are amusing. 
 
 This lad was genuinely fond of Tom Morton, 
 and served him faithfully. He had an easy 
 berth, and he knew it. He likewise rejoiced 
 with great rejoicing in the cast-off ties and 
 clothing that reverted to him. His only criti- 
 cism of "Mr. Mo 'ton's taste" was that his 
 neckties and vests were "too quiet-colored." 
 
 This morning he was much concerned over 
 the fact that his master seemed more thought- 
 ful than usual and had even forgotten to com- 
 ment on the excellency of the omelet, which was 
 a golden puff to the eyes and delectable to the 
 palate. Was it business or love that was in- 
 terfering with his employer's appetite? he won- 
 dered. At last, he summoned courage to ex- 
 press his solicitude. 
 
 " 'Scuse me, suh," he said respectfully, as 
 Tom folded his napkin and arose from his chair, 
 "but I hope you are not feelin' poorly this 
 mornin'. You don't seem to have no appetite, 
 suh."
 
 124 I H *he Web of Life 
 
 Tom smiled kindly. "I am feeling perfectly 
 well, thank you, Wash," he assured his attend- 
 ant. "But I had a tiresome journey yesterday, 
 and I did not sleep until late last night so per- 
 haps I am not quite as hungry as usual. A 
 brisk walk will set me up all right. ' ' 
 
 "Are you dinin' at home this evenin', suh?" 
 asked the servant. 
 
 Morton hesitated. He longed to be able to 
 say that he would not be at home, for that 
 would mean that Edith had summoned him to 
 Homewood. 
 
 "No yes that is I don't know yet," he re- 
 plied vaguely. ' * Much depends on what mail I 
 find at my office. I'll phone you later in the 
 day and tell you." 
 
 "Yes, suh." 
 
 "And, Wash, if any message comes for me, 
 be sure to call me up and deliver it just as you 
 receive it. Understand?" 
 
 "Yes, suh. Good mornin', suh!" 
 
 The sunshine of yesterday had given way to 
 a raw mist that made Tom shiver slightly as he 
 reached the street. It was not the kind of 
 weather to tempt one to take the brisk walk of 
 which he had just spoken, and he pretended that
 
 In the Web of Life 12$ 
 
 this was the reason that he turned his steps im- 
 mediately toward the subway station. 
 
 In reality, he knew that he was hurrying 
 down to his office in the hope that there he 
 might find some communication from Edith. 
 Perhaps she had written, addressing him there 
 instead of at his apartment. Yet she had 
 never done that before. 
 
 He tried to read his newspaper on the train, 
 holding the sheet in one hand and hanging on 
 to the strap with the other, swaying backward 
 and forward with scores of other men all going 
 forth with the same aim at heart or in mind 
 that of making a living for themselves or for 
 those dependent upon them. 
 
 It is a mighty army this that throngs sub- 
 way, elevated and surface cars morning and 
 evening. We are so accustomed to seeing it 
 that we are not as much interested in its per- 
 sonnel as in the soldiers who march in a holi- 
 day parade. But many of these unremarkable 
 civilians are as valiant heroes as those who 
 wear a national uniform, while the women who 
 are crowded into conveyances with them may 
 be as brave and self-sacrificing as the Florence 
 Nightingales and Clara Bartons of the world.
 
 I 2 6 In the Web of Life 
 
 The greatest fights of life, the greatest vic- 
 tories of the spirit, are not always fought and 
 won on famous battlefields. 
 
 Tom Morton thought of this to-day as he 
 found himself unable to fix his attention upon 
 the paper he held. Looking about him, he won- 
 dered if in each of the lives of these people was 
 some tender longing, some anxiety as great as 
 his. Then he chided himself for comparing his 
 comparatively comfortable life with the life of 
 the poor man across the aisle from him, with 
 face hard and cynical, clothes thin and worn. 
 
 Come to think of it, Tom reflected, the only 
 real trouble that he himself had this morning 
 was that he had not heard from the woman he 
 loved. But he would hear from her when he 
 reached the office. 
 
 Yet here, again, he was doomed to disap- 
 pointment. Only business communications 
 awaited him. When he had looked over these, 
 he felt that he could stand this suspense no 
 longer. Perhaps Edith was ill. Perhaps she 
 had not received his telegram. Yet surely some 
 one would have let him know ! 
 
 A happy thought struck him. He would tele- 
 phone to Ralph's office. To be sure, Ralph was
 
 In the Web of Life 127 
 
 absent from his office so often that Tom won- 
 dered why he troubled his mother to pay the 
 rent of the place. Yet it "looked better," the 
 son insisted, "for a lawyer to have some busi- 
 ness address." 
 
 The boy who served as Ralph's office boy and 
 clerk answered Tom when he ' ' rang up. ' ' No, 
 the boy said, Mr. Morton had not been to the 
 office for several days now indeed, for almost 
 a week. There was, therefore, no information 
 to be gained from that quarter. 
 
 Tom Morton stood irresolute. Twice he 
 started to call up the Hale house, then stopped. 
 His pride made him shrink from forcing him- 
 self upon Edith's attention if she were trying 
 to avoid him. Yet surely she was not doing 
 that! He said this over and over to himself, 
 then remembered that in spite of his letter to 
 her, his two telegrams and his request that she 
 send him a line, she had made no sign. 
 
 If there had been any accident, if she were 
 too ill to write, Constance Medford would haye 
 written him. With the thought of Constance, 
 his face lighted. Here was the way to learn the 
 truth. He would telegraph her. Were he to 
 telephone, somebody else might answer or she
 
 128 In the Web of Life 
 
 might be out. A telegram would be sure to 
 reach her. 
 
 Thus it came about that Constance, return- 
 ing about 11 o 'clock that morning from a music 
 lesson she had been giving, met at the gate of 
 her uncle 's place a boy with a telegram bearing 
 her name. She was glad that she had met the 
 boy, because now she need not tell anybody that 
 Tom had communicated with her at least not 
 until she had decided how best to answer his 
 message. 
 
 In spite of her sympathy with him, she 
 smiled, but then sighed as she thought of the 
 various telegrams from and about him that had 
 arrived during the past twenty-four hours and 
 the change they had wrought in the condition of 
 affairs. This message gave her a bit of a heart- 
 ache: 
 
 " No word from Edith. Is she well? Shall I 
 come? 
 
 "T. M." 
 
 Constance was conscious of an unwonted 
 sense of impatience. It seemed such a wanton 
 waste to be throwing away the love this man 
 was offering her and all because of pique.
 
 In the Web of Life 129 
 
 How could Edith do it? And as Constance 
 asked herself this question her own intuition 
 answered it for her : Edith had not really loved 
 Tom. Her vanity had been touched by his de- 
 votion ; she knew that he was considered an eli- 
 gible parti ; he was good-looking and very much 
 in love, and she had accepted him. But if she 
 did not love Tom, neither did she love his hand- 
 somer cousin. 
 
 Constance found herself suddenly sorry for 
 Edith. A strong nature is often sorry for a 
 weaker one, for if the woman of shallow nature 
 suffers less than does her deep-natured sister, 
 she also enjoys less keenly. In pondering on 
 this, Constance Medford's momentary impa- 
 tience passed away, and she smiled brightly as 
 the younger girl came out on the veranda to 
 greet her. 
 
 ' ' Hello, Connie ! ' ' Edith said. " It 's a dreary 
 kind of a day, isn't it! I never woke up until 
 an hour ago. Ralph 'phoned me just now to ask 
 if I cared to go for an auto ride, but I told him 
 it was too damp. ' ' 
 
 "It certainly is damp," Constance agreed. 
 "What are you going to do with yourself to- 
 day?"
 
 130 In the Web of Life 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," Edith complained. "I 
 thought of going to town if the day were nice. 
 Perhaps Ealph might ask me to go to the the- 
 ater to-night but dad has sent him word that 
 he wants to talk with him after dinner. Oh, 
 I 'm tired of all this mess ! ' ' 
 
 As the two girls stood together, Constance 
 noted that the look of weariness had passed 
 from her cousin's face since last evening. She 
 marveled that she could so soon recover from 
 the strain she had passed through, and found 
 herself understanding why men fell in love with 
 Edith's vivid beauty and coloring. The dark 
 brown eyes and hair seemed in some lights 
 black and brought out the rich glow in her 
 cheeks. Except when ill or very weary, Edith 
 did not lose this glow. Constance, with her 
 clear-cut, classic features, gray eyes, soft brown 
 hair and fair skin, seemed almost fragile when 
 compared to her brilliantly pretty companion. 
 
 Yet thoughtful people often looked longer 
 and with more lasting pleasure at the older girl. 
 Her face had a sweet pensiveness that made it 
 attractive. Now her whole expression softened 
 as she spoke to her cousin, laying a gentle hand 
 on her arm.
 
 In the Web of Life 131 
 
 "Dear," she said, "forgive me for asking 
 but have you sent any word to Tom 1 ' ' 
 
 "No! "exclaimed Edith. "I just hate to! I 
 don't want to have anything more to do with 
 him." 
 
 "But, Edith," the other pleaded, "some one 
 ought to send him some word about the condi- 
 tion of affairs. He may come here to see you, 
 you know. ' ' 
 
 Edith gasped with consternation. "Good- 
 ness, so he might ! ' ' she agreed. ' ' Oh, Connie 
 just to please me send him a line won't you? 
 Tell him yes tell him I wish our engagement 
 broken that it is broken that I have asked 
 you to tell him. I told mother I was going to 
 ask you to do this." 
 
 "And what did she say?" queried Con- 
 stance. 
 
 "That it was asking a great deal of you 
 and that I ought to do it myself. But I just 
 can't! Oh, Connie I wasn't going to tell you 
 this, for I hate to talk about it but mother 
 tells me that as soon as father has had a talk 
 with Ealph to-night he's going to have a talk 
 with Tom. But I want him Tom, I mean to 
 know about things before dad sees him."
 
 132 In the Web of Life 
 
 1 'I will write a note to him," Constance prom- 
 ised gravely. "But you can tell uncle that I 
 have done so. I won't do it clandestinely." 
 
 ''Thank you, Connie !" the other said, a smile 
 chasing away the frown that had just gathered 
 on her forehead. "You are such a dear!" 
 
 "I can't telegraph him the whole truth," 
 muttered Constance, as she seated herself at 
 her desk. "I will put a special delivery stamp 
 on this and catch the noon mail. He will get it 
 this afternoon." 
 
 She was right, for it was not yet four o 'clock 
 when her letter was laid on Tom Morton's desk. 
 He tore it open eagerly. 
 
 "Dear Tom," he read. "Do not come until 
 you hear from uncle. Edith has changed her 
 mind. Circumstances which have been hard for 
 her to understand have made her consider her 
 engagement to you a mistake. If you were only 
 here, I could explain better although all this 
 is, of course, none of my business. I am sorry, 
 Tom more sorry than I can say. 
 
 "Your sincere friend, 
 
 "CONSTANCE MEDFORD." 
 
 The letter dropped to the floor, and the man
 
 In the Web of Life 133 
 
 sat for a moment stunned and dazed. Then lie 
 sprang to his feet. 
 
 "And where is Balph all this time?" he ex- 
 claimed, his face flushing angrily. "Where is 
 Ralph!"
 
 Chapter Ten 
 
 Balph Morton, contrary to all precedents of 
 romance, had slept soundly. Consciousness of 
 Ms own shortcomings was not one of his char- 
 acteristics, and in this case any qualms that the 
 remembrance of his perfidy might have caused 
 him were wholly overcome by the thought of 
 his triumph and by his proud mother's raptur- 
 ous words of praise. 
 
 He was engaged to Edith, he told himself ex- 
 ultingly. He had won out against odds that 
 would have discouraged a less persistent man. 
 She was Ms, the girl he loved. The manner in 
 which he had won her did not trouble him, nor 
 did any scruples abate in the least the thrill of 
 self -congratulation that possessed him when he 
 considered Ms conquest. 
 
 It is doubtful if either that night or the fol- 
 lowing morning he gave more than a passing 
 thought to Tom Morton after he had decided 
 to pay with Ms mother's money the debt he 
 owed his cousin. 
 
 It was too damp, he declared, to go into town, 
 134
 
 In the Web of Life 135 
 
 so after calling up Edith on the telephone and 
 talking to her for a few minutes, he lounged 
 about the house, smoking, stopping at his 
 mother's door for an occasional affectionate 
 word, and casting resentful glances at the gray 
 and lowering day outside. 
 
 He had become terribly bored with himself 
 and his present surroundings, and had just de- 
 cided to invite Edith to go into town for some 
 kind of "a show" to-night, when he was sum- 
 moned to the telephone by Edith's father. 
 Ealph answered him with a suddenly awakened 
 sense of uneasiness. 
 
 The possibility of having to explain his own 
 actions and, worse than that, Tom's actions 
 to John Hale had for some reason not occurred 
 to him. As he grasped the receiver, there 
 flashed across his mind the idea that perhaps 
 he had only now begun his fight for Edith. 
 
 ' ' I am in the city, Ralph, and I called you up 
 at your office," the older man began abruptly. 
 "But I learned that you were not there." 
 
 4 'No," replied the other, "I didn't go into 
 town this morning it was such a rotten day. ' ' 
 
 "I imagined that was your reason for staying 
 at home," observed John Hale dryly. "I am
 
 136 In the Web of Life 
 
 sorry you did not come in. There is something 
 that I wanted to talk to you about something 
 that cannot very well be discussed over the 
 phone. Can you come to my house some time 
 this evening?" 
 
 "Why yes I think I can," Ealph hesitat- 
 ed; "though I was planning to ask you and 
 Mrs. Hale to let me take Edith into the city for 
 the theater this evening. But that can, of 
 course, be postponed." 
 
 "If Edith really wants to go, there is no ne- 
 cessity of a postponement, " the father said. "I 
 shall be at home at five this afternoon. Sup- 
 pose you drop in and see me then." 
 
 "I shall be only too glad to," agreed Ealph 
 with a cordiality which he was far from feel- 
 ing. 
 
 ' ' Very well, ' ' returned John Hale. ' ' I shall 
 expect you at five o'clock. I may as well tell 
 you frankly beforehand, Ealph, that there are 
 several things that puzzle me. I shall hope that 
 a full explanation from you may clear them up. 
 Good-by!" 
 
 "Good-by!" Ealph returned, forcing himself 
 to speak pleasantly. But his face was white as 
 he turned away from the telephone. Suddenly
 
 In the Web of Life 137 
 
 he saw the depth of his deception and entangle- 
 ment, and a sickening dread possessed him, 
 driving all of his thoughts of triumph from his 
 mind. For a moment even his self -justification 
 deserted him. 
 
 How much did Mr. Hale know? How much 
 did he suspect? These questions echoed again 
 and again through his perturbed mind, tortur- 
 ing hun like a physical pain. He had always 
 been a little afraid of Edith's father. As far 
 back as Ralph could remember, the sharp-eyed, 
 clear-headed man of business seemed to under- 
 stand him and his methods far better than the 
 boy's own mother did. The accepted suitor ap- 
 preciated now that the conference for which he 
 had just arranged would be no mere formality. 
 Mr. Hale would question him searchingly, nor 
 would he accept evasive answers. If he was de- 
 termined to know what had caused his daugh- 
 ter's change of mind, any apparent attempt on 
 the part of the younger man to blind him to the 
 truth would ruin his own hopes. Perhaps 
 Edith's father had already had a talk with Tom 
 Morton; he might even bring Tom home with 
 hun and make the younger cousin tell his story
 
 138 In the Web of Life 
 
 before the man whom he had betrayed. The 
 idea was most disconcerting. 
 
 Ealph Morton went to his own room and 
 walked the floor for a long hour, smoking cig- 
 arette after cigarette, considering and reject- 
 ing innumerable excuses which he might offer 
 in explanation. At last he paused before a pho- 
 tograph of Edith that stood on his mantel. It 
 had been the girl's Christmas gift to his mother, 
 and Ealph had confiscated it for his room. 
 
 "I'll lie, if I have to," he muttered; "I'll lie 
 myself black in the face before I'll give you up ! 
 You're mine, now, and I'll fight for you to a 
 finish. But I won't tell a lie that can be proved 
 unless I have to. There is a way of using the 
 truth to accomplish one's ends. And all's fair 
 in love, anyway." 
 
 With this quotation of a truism which has 
 been employed to cover and condone many a 
 treachery and evil deed, he went downstairs, 
 whistling softly. He had decided that the first 
 weapon he would use would be a seeming truth. 
 That was safer than a lie. But, if necessary, 
 the lie would be called into requisition. He felt 
 more at peace now with the world and himself. 
 He had arranged his plan of campaign. Truth
 
 In the Web of Life 139 
 
 and what seemed to be an honorable reserve 
 would work wonders. 
 
 Later he called up Edith and asked her to go 
 to the theater with him that night. 
 
 " I'd like to go, " she said wistfully. " It 's so 
 dull here. But I'll have to ask father and 
 mother first." 
 
 " Don't you bother about that," Ealph 
 laughed happily. "I have already asked and 
 received permission from your father to take 
 you and without a chaperon, too. You see, 
 now that we're engaged, it's all right." 
 
 "I see," Edith murmured. "Thank you, 
 Ealph." 
 
 "Thank you, Edith!" Ealph replied softly. 
 The thought of being with her so soon again 
 nerved him for the coming interview with her 
 father. 
 
 When he entered the Hale library at five 
 o'clock, he found the master of the house alone, 
 and noted this fact with a throb of relief. For 
 hours he had feared that Tom Morton might 
 also be present at the interview. Since it was 
 only Mr. Hale with whom he had to deal, he 
 could speak with less constraint. Suddenly he 
 felt very confident of the outcome of the conver-
 
 140 In the Web of Life 
 
 sation, and smilingly held out his hand as his 
 host rose to greet him. 
 
 "Good afternoon, Kalph," said the older 
 man, not unkindly. "Sit down. I am glad 
 you came so promptly, for I want to have a talk 
 with you." 
 
 "I am glad that you do, sir," Ralph replied. 
 "For I also want to talk with you. I have felt 
 all day that I must see you." 
 
 Already he had assumed the part which he 
 had determined to play. His real self seemed 
 for the moment to be wholly detached from him 
 a prompter who, from somewhere in the 
 wings of his consciousness, directed him in his 
 role. Apart from a certain excitement, he felt 
 more at his ease than he had done since Mr. 
 Hale's telephone message to Tin'm. 
 
 "I imagine that we want to confer about the 
 same thing," Edith's father began, tugging re- 
 flectively at his gray mustache. "I am going to 
 be very frank in my questions to you, and I 
 want you to be as straightforward in replying 
 to them. This is no time for reserves or mis- 
 taken loyalty. The responsibility which you 
 took upon yourself last night in asking my
 
 In the Web of Life 141 
 
 daughter to marry you should be considered 
 before the possible claims of friendship." 
 
 "I fully appreciate that, sir," Ralph re- 
 turned, with a quiet dignity. ''What do you 
 wish to ask me 7 ' ' 
 
 "Do you know of any reason," demanded 
 Mr. Hale, "why Tom Morton, your cousin and 
 friend, should not marry my daughter?" 
 
 * ' One very excellent reason is that she is en- 
 gaged to me and not to him," Ealph replied 
 lightly. 
 
 A frown crossed the father's fine face at the 
 flippant speech. "You are evading my ques- 
 tion, Ealph, ' ' he accused. ' * Why did Tom Mor- 
 ton go to Baltimore?" 
 
 "He went on business, I believe," the other 
 answered slowly. 
 
 "Do you know what the nature of the busi- 
 ness was?" 
 
 The younger man hesitated for a moment, but 
 his eyes met squarely the grave, estimating gaze 
 of his questioner. It is a mistake to suppose 
 that only the sincere person can look one di- 
 rectly in the eyes. When Ealph spoke there was 
 a regretful note in his voice. 
 
 "I really don't see, Mr. Hale," he protested,
 
 142 In the Web of Life 
 
 "why I should be put on the witness stand or 
 be held accountable for Tom's comings and go- 
 ings. As far as I can see, my only offense has 
 been that of loving your daughter. That cer- 
 tainly is no cause for this cross-examination 
 concerning the doings of a man who is quite ca- 
 pable of speaking for himself. I would sug- 
 gest, sir, that you ask Tom for an account of 
 his stay in Baltimore. I do know that while 
 there he paid, at my request, a debt of mine. 
 Further than that, I cannot and will not say. ' ' 
 
 A sudden flash of understanding lighted John 
 Hale's face. This, then, had been the money 
 mentioned in the mysterious telegram to Ralph. 
 He had learned to-day that the message as re- 
 peated to Edith by Ealph's mother had been 
 correct. Now he understood what it meant at 
 least to a certain extent. 
 
 But why had the sender cautioned Ralph to 
 be careful, unless to warn him that Tom was 
 not dealing honestly with him? Tom, whom he, 
 John Hale, had always trusted and liked ! He 
 could not believe Tom to be untrustworthy. 
 
 The whole affair puzzled him and made him 
 uneasy. Yet there had been a suggestion of 
 reluctance to violate a confidence in the tone
 
 In the Web of Life 143 
 
 with which Ealph had delivered himself of his 
 last words and this was not lost upon Mr. Hale. 
 
 "I can hardly demand an explanation from 
 Tom," the father said somberly. "No one 
 not even Edith has brought any fixed charge 
 against him. The only count on which I can 
 prove that he is guilty is that of losing his train, 
 and I am too old a commuter to hold that 
 against him for long." He tried to laugh, but 
 failed. "From what you and Edith have told 
 me, it appears that my daughter has been over- 
 suspicious of the lad, and that he and she have 
 lost their keen interest in each other. I cannot 
 go to him and confront him with such an indict- 
 ment especially when the child herself has be- 
 come engaged to another man. 
 
 "I suppose it is our breathless modern life 
 that is responsible for this kind of thing," he 
 added, with a half smile. "We were slower in 
 suspicions and in changing ideals when I was 
 young." 
 
 "I do not want you to think, sir," Ealph in- 
 terposed deprecatingly, "that I became engaged 
 to Edith from any motive on her part except 
 self -protection. I wish I could declare that she 
 loves me but she doesn't. I love her dearly.
 
 144 In the Web of Life 
 
 I have loved her ever since I was a little chap. 
 I hope she may learn to love me all unworthy 
 as I know myself to be. I cannot even flatter 
 myself into fancying that she cares for me very 
 deeply yet but I pray that she may in time. 
 Our engagement so far is one of form. She 
 thought people had linked her name with Tom's 
 and was distressed at the idea. I offered my- 
 self as a bulwark to shield her from gossip. I 
 count myself honored that she accepted me. I 
 hope you understand that." 
 
 "I do understand it, Balph," said his com- 
 panion with more cordiality than he had shown 
 before. "I understand and appreciate it. This 
 sudden turn of affairs has been a shock to my 
 wife and me but we feel kindly toward you, 
 Balph." 
 
 Thus the interview ended, and Balph knew 
 that his good luck had not forsaken him. A 
 thrill of exultation ran through his being. 
 
 It stayed with him all the evening as he and 
 Edith sat in the theater, and he appeared at his 
 best bright, pleasant, polished in manner. 
 The pair were seated after the performance in 
 the fashionable Broadway restaurant where 
 Balph had insisted that they go "for a bite be-
 
 In the Web of Life 145 
 
 fore returning home," when Edith's smiling 
 face paled suddenly. 
 
 "Let us go home, Balph," she said breath- 
 lessly. "It's very late." 
 
 The man's eyes followed the direction that 
 her frightened gaze had taken. Two men were 
 seated at a table not far from them. One of 
 them Balph did not recognize. The other was 
 Tom Morton. As they looked, Tom turned and 
 saw them both. 
 
 Balph, with the sudden and he told himself 
 unreasonable dread of exposure heavy upon 
 him, and Edith eager to avoid what she feared 
 would be a scene hastened to leave the restau- 
 rant, shrinking from the steady gaze of Tom 
 Morton as though linked by a common sin. 
 
 The man's fingers were clumsy with haste as 
 he held the girl's cloak for her, and she whis- 
 pered to him as she fastened the garment: 
 "Come, let's get away from here! I'm afraid 
 he will try to speak to me. ' ' 
 
 Without another glance in the direction of 
 the table at which her late fiance was seated the 
 girl hurried from the room, Balph following 
 close behind her. In the foyer they paused for
 
 146 In the Web of Life 
 
 a moment while Ealph got his coat and hat from 
 the boy in attendance. 
 
 "Thank Heaven!" breathed Edith fervently, 
 as Ealph, his coat over his arm and his hat in 
 his hand, started with her toward the entrance. 
 
 The man gave a little embarrassed laugh, but 
 his companion noted the beads of perspiration 
 that had sprung out upon his forehead. 
 
 ' ' There was no need of being frightened, my 
 dear, ' ' he told her with a manner that he tried 
 to make assured. ' ' He certainly would not have 
 spoken to you back in there with all those 
 people present. He would not have cared to 
 make a scene." 
 
 He stopped short, with an uncontrollable 
 start of surprise. Tom Morton stood at his 
 elbow, his face pale and almost wooden in its 
 lack of expression. The new arrival did not 
 notice Ealph by look or gesture, but addressed 
 himself to Edith, speaking slowly and care- 
 fully. 
 
 "I have no desire to 'make a scene,' " he 
 said, repeating with emphasis the sentence he 
 had just heard Ealph use, "nor to ask for ex- 
 planations here. It is scarcely the place for 
 that kind of thing. I only followed you, Edith,
 
 In the Web of Life 147 
 
 to ask you when we may meet and each hear 
 what the other has to say." 
 
 There were several seconds of tense silence, 
 while the girl glanced quickly from the tall 
 figure on one side of her to the slighter and 
 shorter form and nervous face of her es- 
 cort. Then she spoke deliberately, turning to 
 the latter. 
 
 "It is time we were going home, Balph," she 
 said, moving away. 
 
 Tom Morton laid a hand on her arm. She 
 could feel that his fingers were quivering. 
 
 "I have a right to an explanation," he said. 
 There was a ring as of steel in his low tones, 
 though his face remained passionless. 
 
 A sudden color flamed in the girl's face, and 
 with a swift gesture of repulsion she shrank 
 from the speaker. Her dark eyes looked into 
 his, scornfully, stormily. 
 
 "How dare you talk of demanding an expla- 
 nation?" she asked, angrily. Her tone, too, 
 was low, but every word was distinctly heard 
 by the two men. "How dare you halt me in a 
 public place and speak to me when you must 
 know that I hate you 1 If there were to be any 
 explanations, I would be the one to ask for
 
 148 In the Web of Life 
 
 them. I waive that right. I do not want ever 
 to see you again. This is the last insult that I 
 will endure from you ! ' ' 
 
 Tom Morton did not flinch from the blast of 
 her wrath. He stood motionless after releasing 
 her, his hands clasped behind him. 
 
 "I have already written to you, Edith," he 
 remarked in an almost casual tone. "I think 
 you will feel differently after reading my let- 
 ter." 
 
 "I shall not read it!" she exclaimed, child- 
 ishly. "I shall burn it or return it to you 
 to prove that I have not read it." 
 
 Without another word she walked again 
 toward the door. Tom's eyes followed her. It 
 would have been difficult to read what his gaze 
 held. Then he looked at Ealph, but the other 
 man, refusing to meet his glance, hurried after 
 his betrothed. He could look straight into John 
 Hale's eyes this afternoon while acting a part, 
 but he was not sure enough of himself to meet 
 the accusing eyes of the man whom he had 
 wronged. 
 
 It was not until Ealph Morton had piloted 
 his car safely through the shifting current of 
 city traffic that he spoke to the girl at his side.
 
 In the Web of Life 149 
 
 "You were a little hard on Tom, I think, 
 dear, " he ventured. 
 
 ' * Can anybody be too hard on him now, after 
 all that he has done?" she demanded angrily. 
 "You, who know it all in spite of your deter- 
 mination to shield him from the rest of us 
 should be the last one to plead with me to be 
 gentle with him. ' ' 
 
 "We are not all of us saints," Ealph told 
 her twenty minutes later. He had not spoken 
 since her indignant exclamation, and they had 
 crossed the ferry in silence and had now reached 
 the top of the hill on the New Jersey side of the 
 river. 
 
 "I, myself, have a confession to make to you. 
 It is better to do it before our engagement goes 
 further. All men are pretty much alike, I'm 
 afraid, until they have some hope of being loved 
 by the Only Girl. There was a time when I fell 
 from grace myself. I shall not tell you her 
 name. You do not know her. You never will 
 know her. I was young and foolish and she was 
 well neither! The thought of my sinful 
 folly has tortured me during the past year. I 
 had to confess it to you. I do not plead for 
 mercy. ' '
 
 150 In the Web of Life 
 
 There are few things that make more for love 
 and confidence than does an open and unsolic- 
 ited confession of past errors. This man, in 
 yielding weakly and as a precautionary measure 
 to the impulse to confess, had made his com- 
 panion feel that he was more noble than she 
 had known. She sat thinking deeply after he 
 had ceased speaking; then she turned and laid 
 an impulsive hand on his arm. 
 
 "I am sorry it happened, Ralph," she whis- 
 pered. "But I am glad and proud that you 
 told me." 
 
 He, leaning toward her, bowed his head and 
 kissed her for the first time. 
 
 A college friend of Tom's had unexpectedly 
 remained overnight in New York, and the pair 
 had attended the theater together, stopping in 
 a restaurant on their way home. 
 
 Here Tom had excused himself long enough 
 for his short interview with Edith. When he re- 
 turned, so calm was his bearing that his guest 
 took no further thought of the occurrence. 
 
 Ralph Morton was able to play a double part 
 with some skill, but his cousin possessed poise 
 and self-control of which Ralph was incapable.
 
 Chapter Eleven 
 
 Tom Morton's letter to Edith Hale had been 
 sent on the impulse of the moment, as soon as 
 he had received Constance Medford's note. He 
 had felt that he could not endure another hour 
 without asking the woman he loved to give him 
 a chance to explain matters to her. To this 
 end he had written urgently, perhaps more con- 
 vincingly than he knew. "With the dread of fur- 
 ther delays, taught him by the circumstances of 
 the past few days, he emulated Constance Med- 
 ford's example and put upon his envelope a 
 special delivery stamp. 
 
 The letter reached its destination during the 
 evening and was laid by Constance upon Edith's 
 dressing table. Here the white oblong caught 
 the girl's eye as soon as she switched on the 
 light in her room after parting from Ealph at 
 the door of her home. She had paused, as was 
 her custom, at her mother's room to say good- 
 night, then had gone softly to her own cham- 
 ber. She did not suspect that her cousin was 
 lying awake hoping that Edith would come to
 
 1 52 In the Web of Life 
 
 her with some news of Tom. Constance felt 
 that she could sleep better if she knew that Tom 
 was not as wretched as she feared. 
 
 But this whim if whim it was was not to 
 be gratified, and she turned over with a sigh and 
 closed her eyes. Once she thought she heard a 
 door open and shut, but as there was no further 
 sound she convinced herself that she had been 
 mistaken and tried to think of other matters. 
 
 Meanwhile Edith looked at the envelope be- 
 fore her with a sneer of disgust. Perhaps there 
 is no person stronger in her prejudices than the 
 much-loved woman who is accustomed to hav- 
 ing things her own way, and can, therefore, 
 brook no crossing of her will. Tom had morti- 
 fied her, had seemed not to care enough about 
 her to be present upon the occasion of her 
 dinner, had, she thought, been with some other 
 woman. All of these misdemeanors made it 
 hard for her to forgive him. A woman who 
 loved more deeply, who had known more real 
 suffering, would have trusted more, or would, 
 at least, have given the offender an opportu- 
 nity to explain himself. But wounded vanity, 
 coupled with jealousy, forms a combination that 
 even a strong and just man would find hard
 
 In the Web of Life 153 
 
 to fight. And a pretty woman can be very 
 vindictive to one who seems to forget her 
 charm. 
 
 With a determination that did not falter, 
 Edith picked up the letter, carried it to her 
 desk, and, seating herself there, pulled off her 
 long gloves, dropping them in her haste on the 
 floor, seized an envelope, slipped Tom's unop- 
 ened letter into this, and with a firm hand ad- 
 dressed it to the sender. Then, stamping it, she 
 crept softly downstairs with it, and, in spite 
 of the lateness of the hour and the darkness of 
 midnight, ran down the garden walk and 
 dropped the letter into the box at the gate. The 
 front door slipped from her grasp as she was 
 closing it upon her return and it was this sound 
 that Constance heard. Had she suspected who 
 had caused the noise and what her errand out- 
 of-doors had been, she would have slept even 
 less than she did that night. 
 
 Yet she was not to be kept long in ignorance 
 of Edith's actions. After breakfast the follow- 
 ing morning the two girls strolled out upon the 
 broad veranda. The clouds of yesterday had 
 been driven away by a brisk breeze and once 
 more the world looked very beautiful. Mrs.
 
 154 I H the Web of Life 
 
 Hale came out through one of the long windows 
 from the dining-room to chat about the plans 
 for the day. She had asked Edith no questions, 
 as her husband had suggested that "the child 
 was best left alone until she could think matters 
 over calmly.*' Nor had Edith volunteered any 
 information beyond the brief fact of her en- 
 gagement, which she had imparted on the night 
 of the dinner. There was an atmosphere of 
 suspense about them all, it seemed to Constance, 
 and she found herself chafing against condi- 
 tions. Again and again she reminded herself 
 that the affair was no concern of hers, that she 
 had no right to resent her cousin's plans, that 
 it was ridiculous for her to make herself un- 
 happy over the unfortunate circumstances. Yet 
 she could not rid herself of a sense of depres- 
 sion. 
 
 It was, therefore, with a throb of gratitude 
 that she heard Edith say, after her mother had 
 gone back into the house : 
 
 ' ' Sit down here by me, Connie. I want to talk 
 to you. I've had a horrid time since I saw you 
 yesterday." 
 
 At last, Constance thought, she would learn 
 something of Tom's fate.
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 "Thank you," she said, obeying Edith's mo- 
 tion for her to take a seat on the broad wicker 
 divan. "I am sorry you have had a horrid 
 time, dear." 
 
 "I know you are," Edith affirmed. "And 
 that is why I want to talk to you and tell you 
 what has happened." 
 
 Finding it rather agreeable to pour forth her 
 grievance to a sympathetic listener, Edith gave 
 a graphic account of the encounter of last eve- 
 ning, repeating with evident enjoyment her 
 scathing replies to Tom's appeal. So absorbed 
 was she in her story that she did not see the 
 stern look that was changing Constance's nat- 
 urally curving lips to a hard line. Finally, the 
 narrator told of the letter she had found on her 
 table. 
 
 "I laid it there," Constance said briefly. 
 
 "I supposed it was you," remarked Edith. 
 "I was so angry at Tom's daring to write to me 
 that I actually was not a bit afraid to run all 
 the way down to the gate and mail his letter 
 to him unopened. He must have received it this 
 morning. ' ' 
 
 To her astonishment, her companion uttered 
 an exclamation of mingled horror and compas-
 
 156 In the Web of Life 
 
 sion. Her eyes were wide and dark, her face pale. 
 
 "And that," Constance accused, "that is the 
 way you treated an honorable gentleman ! ' ' 
 
 "Connie!" gasped the girl. "What do you 
 mean?" 
 
 Constance had risen to her feet. Her cousin 
 had never before suspected the existence of the 
 temper that now flashed forth. 
 
 "Mean!" she exclaimed. "I mean that you 
 have been cruel, unjust both you and Ealph 
 and that you, a girl who is supposed to be capa- 
 ble of tenderness, have trampled under foot 
 the love of a good and honorable man ! Oh, I 
 know you don't trust him" as Edith tried to 
 check her "but that is nothing to be proud 
 of! I should think you would be ashamed to 
 acknowledge what you have done ! " 
 
 She stopped with a quick catch in her breath, 
 as if suddenly overwhelmed at the sound of her 
 own tempestuous denunciation. Then, turning, 
 she went swiftly into the house. 
 
 It was characteristic of Tom Morton that he 
 should work a little harder than usual after 
 receiving fiom Edith his own letter, unopened. 
 Her action had hurt him cruelly. An instinctive
 
 In the Web of Life 157 
 
 desire to dull by a counter-irritation the mental 
 pain which he suffered drove him to his office 
 and to hard, brain-absorbing labor. 
 
 He dared not trust himself to think just yet 
 of Edith's rebuff. The girl he loved more than 
 all else in the world had turned against him 
 how or why he did not know. Worse than 
 that, she had deliberately insulted him, and he 
 was not the type of man to bear such an af- 
 front meekly. His letter to Edith had been 
 lying at his plate on the breakfast table, and, 
 feeling his servant's eyes upon him, he had 
 leisurely opened the outer envelope. Then, 
 after a glance which showed him his own hand- 
 writing on the inner envelope, laid the letter 
 down casually and pretended to busy himself 
 with his morning repast. Tom Morton knew 
 himself better than do most young men, and it 
 was with the hope that he might later face his 
 problem more calmly that he went to his office 
 early to-day and immersed himself in the com- 
 parison and annotation of a pile of papers which 
 his stenographer had laid on his desk. 
 
 He worked steadily and doggedly for some 
 hours, pinning his thoughts down to the busi- 
 ness of the day. At last, his task completed, he
 
 158 In the Web of Life 
 
 swung himself around in his desk chair and 
 spoke to the narrow-chested youth sitting at a 
 typewriter at the other end of the room. 
 
 "Copy these notes, please, Harry," he or- 
 dered. "That job is finished at any rate." 
 
 ' ' Finished ! ' ' exclaimed the other. ' ' You are 
 some worker, Mr. Morton!" 
 
 "I felt like working," rejoined Tom, smiling 
 grimly. "I think I'll go out now and get some 
 lunch." 
 
 "You must need it," his stenographer com- 
 mented. "It's after 2 o'clock." 
 
 In the restaurant Tom gave his order, then 
 sat silent, gazing somberly at the tablecloth in 
 front of him. After a while he took from his 
 pocket a sealed letter, looked at it thoughtfully 
 for a moment and returned it to his pocket. 
 His lips set themselves in a pale, thin line, and 
 there had come to his usually kind eyes a hard 
 gleam. 
 
 Anger the cold, vindictive wrath of hurt 
 pride drove from his mind all softer emotions. 
 
 "Well," he muttered to himself ," it 's all over 
 with, of course. In a year I shall be glad, I 
 imagine, that I found her out when I did. But 
 it's hell now!"
 
 In the Web of Life 159 
 
 He felt already that the episode was all but 
 closed. One thing alone remained. He must 
 see Ealph. His fingers tightened their grip on 
 the edge of the table as he thought of this. He 
 would make Ealph explain his part in the af- 
 fair if he had to choke the truth out of him. 
 
 He finished his lonely meal, scarcely know- 
 ing what he ate, and, leaving the restaurant, 
 strolled down Broadway in the sunshine. He 
 had gone only a block or two when he heard 
 his name spoken and found himself face to face 
 with Edith's father. 
 
 "Good afternoon, sir," Tom said coldly, pre- 
 tending not to see the older man 's outstretched 
 hand. "Did you call me just now? I thought 
 I heard you speak my name." 
 
 "I haven't seen you for some days, Tom," 
 answered Mr. Hale mildly. "How are you, my 
 boy?" 
 
 "It will probably be many more days before 
 any member of the Hale family sees me again, ' ' 
 Tom replied with a bitter laugh. "As far as 
 my health is concerned, I am a little tired, but 
 otherwise very well." 
 
 He turned to go on, but John Hale laid a 
 detaining hand on his arm.
 
 160 In the Web of Life 
 
 "Come into my office for a few minutes, 
 Tom," he commanded. "I want to talk to 
 you." 
 
 "I am very busy," Morton demurred. 
 
 "You are not too busy to talk to an old man 
 who has known you always and has always 
 trusted you, Tom. Come along ! ' ' 
 
 Ten minutes later, seated in Mr. Hale's pri- 
 vate office, Tom Morton drew a long breath and 
 met the older man 's eyes calmly. 
 
 "Fire away, Mr. Hale!" he said, with a half 
 smile. "What do you want to say to me?" 
 
 "I'm worried," the other declared. "Wor- 
 ried about this tempest in a teapot between 
 you and Edith. I shall not demand any expla- 
 nation from my daughter, since she seems to 
 have taken the management of the affair into 
 her own hands, and evidently feels that her hap- 
 piness depends upon being allowed to do this. 
 Lord knows I want her to be happy ! Still, if 
 you could forget for a few minutes that I am 
 Edith's father, and think of me simply as your 
 friend and confidant, I should be very glad to 
 hear what you have to say. It will go no fur- 
 ther, unless you wish to have it do so." 
 
 "I have nothing to say," Tom answered de-
 
 In the Web of Life 161 
 
 cidedly. "Your daughter can explain things 
 much better than I can. She, at least, must 
 have some shadow of a reason for her action. 
 She has decided affairs for herself. I have no 
 idea what has brought about the existing con- 
 ditions." 
 
 ' * There must be something that led up to this 
 break," Mr. Hale persisted. "You must have 
 some suspicion of what it is. Why did you go 
 to Baltimore, Tom?" 
 
 For a moment Tom did not answer. When he 
 finally spoke his voice was stern and his face 
 expressionless. 
 
 "Mr. Hale, I went to Baltimore about an 
 affair that was not of my choosing or my con- 
 cern. That is all I can tell you. You may think 
 me bitter and stubborn. Perhaps you are right. 
 Your daughter rebuffed me last night through 
 no conscious fault of mine. I wrote to her yes- 
 terday giving a full account of my movements 
 since I last saw her. That was while I still felt 
 that I owed her an explanation. Here is my 
 letter to her, returned to me unopened. Since 
 she cares so little for me as to be indifferent 
 as to whether I merit her suspicions or not, I 
 do not care to explain further. This envelope
 
 1 62 In the Web of Life 
 
 contains the one explanation I had to offer. It 
 is the last I shall attempt to make." 
 
 Slowly he tore the letter across several times 
 and flung it into the waste basket. 
 
 John Hale watched the scraps of the torn 
 letter flutter down. His finely-lined, aristocratic 
 face wore a peculiar expression. Finally he 
 laughed whimsically. 
 
 "Well, of course, Tom," he said with his ac- 
 customed kindness, "if I can't get at the truth 
 of this affair except by piecing together those 
 bits of paper, I shall have to remain in igno- 
 rance." He paused. "Still," he added, more 
 gravely, "I think you are making a mistake in 
 not confiding in me. It is a rather distasteful 
 thought to me that the love which I believed 
 Edith had for you should be lost through a 
 matter of foolish pride." 
 
 "It is not as if Edith still cared for me," 
 Tom reminded him with quiet dignity. "You 
 see, sir, she has shown me by her actions and I 
 have received assurance by her own speech that 
 she has no affection for me ; even that she pre- 
 fers not to know me. As long as I had the 
 honor of being engaged to her, I owed her an 
 explanation. But now, as a person whom she
 
 In the Web of Life 163 
 
 does not desire to recognize, I feel no such 
 responsibility incumbent upon me." 
 
 The girl 's father seemed to study the pattern 
 of his office rug for a long moment before rais- 
 ing his eyes and meeting Tom's gaze. 
 
 "I wonder if it would help matters at all," 
 John Hale ventured, watching his companion's 
 face keenly, "if I were to do all in my power to 
 explain present conditions, and tell you that 
 Edith is practically engaged to Ealph, your 
 cousin?" 
 
 If he had expected the other to show some 
 sudden emotion at this bit of news he was dis- 
 appointed. 
 
 "Indeed?" Tom returned, his voice and man- 
 ner unperturbed. "I had not heard of that." 
 
 An awkward silence ensued, then Tom rose 
 to his feet. 
 
 "If there is nothing more that you wish to 
 speak to me about, sir," he said with grave cour- 
 tesy, "I will excuse myself. I am very busy 
 to-day." 
 
 "No, there is nothing more," responded the 
 other regretfully. "I had hoped that you 
 would be able to explain this unfortunate con- 
 dition, or at least that you would show a willing-
 
 164 In the Web of Life 
 
 ness to do so. I see that I was mistaken. Good- 
 by, my boy." 
 
 He held out his hand with the gentle, win- 
 ning smile which his daughter had inherited 
 from him, and which was one of her chief at- 
 tractions. Tom's face softened. 
 
 11 Please don't think too hard of me, Mr. 
 Hale," he pleaded, somewhat huskily. "And 
 let me tell you this much before I go. I do 
 appreciate the straightforward way in which 
 you have come to me, and I can say, with abso- 
 lute frankness, that I know of no action of mine 
 of which you or anyone whom you love need 
 be ashamed. I hope never to do anything to 
 forfeit your respect, sir for your regard will 
 always mean a great deal to me. That is all. 
 Good-by, and thank you!" 
 
 He clasped warmly the outstretched hand, 
 then left the office without a backward glance. 
 
 Downstairs, at the entrance to the great 
 building, he stood for a moment and passed his 
 hand across his forehead. 
 
 "Balph is engaged to her!" he murmured. 
 "Kalph! I must see him. I'll go to him now. 
 He, at least, can explain, and he shall. I'll 
 make him talk!"
 
 In the Web of Life 165 
 
 There was no one but the clerk in his cousin's 
 office. Mr. Morton was not in town. He had 
 been here for a little while during the morning, 
 but had left before luncheon. No, it was im- 
 possible to tell whether he would be in to-mor- 
 row or not. Was there any message f 
 
 1 ' No, ' ' said Tom. Then, with a sigh of weari- 
 ness or exasperation, he retraced his steps to 
 his own office. 
 
 His stenographer looked up as he entered. 
 "Your mail is on your desk, Mr. Morton," he 
 said. "What's the matter, sir? You look done 
 up this afternoon." 
 
 "I'm a little tired, I think," his employer re- 
 plied, absently. 
 
 The western sunlight shining brightly on his 
 desk brought into view a picture standing in the 
 interior in a small ivory frame. Tom pushed it 
 back into the shadow before taking up the 
 sheaf of unopened envelopes which lay there. 
 He shuffled over the letters, only half conscious 
 of what he was doing. Then he started, sud- 
 denly awakened to an appreciation of the pres- 
 ent. One of the envelopes was addressed to 
 him in Ealph's well-known handwriting. A 
 hard, gray shadow crossed Tom Morton's face
 
 1 66 In the Web of Life 
 
 as lie looked at it. Then he tore it open quickly. 
 
 Inside the envelope was a slip of pink paper 
 nothing more. It was a check for the amount 
 Ralph had asked him to pay to Mrs. Price. Tom 
 laid it away methodically in a drawer of his 
 desk and sat silent for a time, watching the 
 yellow bar of sunlight creep up his office wall. 
 
 Hate, elemental hate, took possession of him 
 as he sat there ; a desire for vengeance against 
 the man who had stolen his love from him. He 
 did not pause to consider whether he, Tom Mor- 
 ton, still loved Edith Hale or not. He only 
 knew that he wanted to have Ralph before him, 
 to meet him man to man, and square accounts. 
 
 He sprang to his feet, picking up his hat. 
 * ' I 'm going home, Harry, ' ' he remarked. ' * I Ve 
 worked enough for to-day. Good afternoon." 
 
 His manner to Washington at dinner that 
 night was such as to fill that worthy servitor 's 
 soul with apprehension lest his occasional and 
 small " samplings" of the contents of humi- 
 dor and cellarette had been suspected. Had 
 the negro seen the expression on his employer's 
 countenance when, after the meal was over, he 
 sat down before his library desk, uneasiness 
 would have changed to panic.
 
 In the Web of Life 167 
 
 Yet this is all that Tom Morton wrote: 
 
 "My Dear Ealph: Please come to my office 
 some time to-morrow afternoon. Your visit 
 will save me a trip to Homewood. 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 " THOMAS MOBTON."
 
 Chapter Twelve 
 
 "Why so sad, fair lady?" Ralph Morton de- 
 manded teasingly. 
 
 He had driven his automobile close to the 
 steps of the Hale home. Just above him stood 
 Constance Medford, clipping the dried blossoms 
 from a veranda box of plants. So absorbed did 
 she appear to be in her task, or her own 
 thoughts, that until he spoke she had betrayed 
 no consciousness of Ralph's presence. When 
 he greeted her she lifted her head and looked 
 at him coldly. 
 
 ' ' Good morning ! ' ' she returned. * ' Edith will 
 be down in a moment." 
 
 She bent again over the flower box while the 
 man watched her, half amused, half vexed. He 
 had for some time suspected that this member 
 of the Hale household disliked him. The fact 
 that she wished to avoid him did not daunt him 
 now. It was too bright a morning for one to 
 be downcast, and he was progressing too favor- 
 ably in Edith's regards for him to be uncertain 
 of his standing. 
 
 1 68
 
 In the Web of Life 169 
 
 "But you haven't told me yet why you look 
 so depressed," he persisted with an ingratiating 
 smile. 
 
 But the smile was lost on Constance, for she 
 continued her work without looking up. 
 
 "If I am depressed," she said, "you must 
 place the blame on the world, not on me." 
 
 "But it seems like a pretty good old world 
 to-day," Ealph protested. "It surely can't be 
 as rotten as you seem to think it is, Constance." 
 
 * ' Oh, the world itself is all right, ' ' responded 
 the girl, brushing the soil from her finger-tips. 
 "But some of the people in it are very 'rotten,' 
 as you phrase it." 
 
 Her eyes met his as she spoke and the man 
 found himself slightly disconcerted by her 
 grave gaze. To cover his embarrassment, he 
 spoke unthinkingly. 
 
 "Present company is always excepted in that 
 indictment, of course?" he rejoined inquiringly, 
 still smiling. 
 
 * ' As you please, ' ' Constance replied. ' ' There 
 is an old maxim, with which you are doubtless 
 familiar, about a guilty conscience needing no 
 accuser. "Whether it applies in this connection 
 or not you know better than I."
 
 170 In the Web of Life 
 
 "I'm afraid I don't quite understand you, 
 Constance," Balph said with a ring of defiance 
 in his voice. 
 
 She did not answer at once, but stood looking 
 out over the sunny stretch of lawn. A robin 
 scurried across the grass and her eyes followed 
 it. The man watching her could not know that 
 she was noting the beauty of the Spring morn- 
 ing and at the same time remembering how, in 
 spite of all the lovely things in life, one man 
 was sad and disappointed, and through no fault 
 of his own. The remembrance of this gave her 
 courage to speak out a part of wiiat was in 
 her mind as her eyes returned to her ques- 
 tioner's face. 
 
 "I'm afraid that you understand me only too 
 well, Ralph," she said quietly. "I say 'afraid' 
 because I love my cousin Edith, and also be- 
 cause on a morning like this I want to feel that 
 all the world all my world, at least is clean 
 and honest." 
 
 "And by that insinuation you mean what?" 
 the man challenged angrily. This girl's veiled 
 allusions spurred him on to learn the worst of 
 her suspicions. 
 
 VJust what you think I mean," Constance
 
 In the Web of Life 171 
 
 continued in a steady voice. * * I do not believe 
 that your hands are clean in this affair about 
 Tom Morton since you press me for further 
 information. Nor do I believe that you have 
 acted the part that an honorable man should 
 act. I would not have said this of my own ac- 
 cord, Balph, but since you insist upon question- 
 ing me, I must be honest. ' ' 
 
 The man flushed, then grew pale. "That is, 
 please remember, only your personal opinion, 
 dear lady," he parried with attempted light- 
 ness. "Of course you have a right to it, no 
 matter how uncomplimentary it may be to me. 
 I have known for some time that you disliked 
 me were working against me. But when you 
 are older and wiser, you may not be so ready 
 to make use of a woman's privilege of insulting 
 a man, unpunished. Nevertheless," he con- 
 cluded with a sudden outburst of resentment 
 and rage, "I should like to see the man who 
 would dare say such a thing to me ! ' ' 
 
 "If that is really your desire," Constance re- 
 plied, her voice and lips quivering slightly, 
 ' ' why not call on Tom, Kalph f He would per- 
 haps be less polite in his speech than I have 
 been, but he is a man and a strong man. You
 
 172 In the Web of Life 
 
 would have no compunction with regard to sex 
 to keep you from avenging the 'insult' then. 
 Why not go to see him, Ealph ?" she mocked. 
 "He might be grateful for the chance of talk- 
 ing to you face to face." 
 
 Her companion's eyes showed an evil gleam 
 as he gave a short, ugly laugh. 
 
 "Facts speak for more than childish suspi- 
 cions," he retorted. "Tom has nobody but 
 himself to blame for what has occurred. If 
 you knew where he was on the night of Edith's 
 engagement dinner you might not be so violent 
 in your espousal of his cause." 
 
 The girl was frightened at the sudden spasm 
 of wrath that gripped her. She felt her hands 
 close upon each other, while red spots flashed 
 before her eyes. She heard her own voice as 
 if it were the voice of another person. 
 
 "You know that's a lie, Ealph Morton!" she 
 exclaimed, her face as white as the morning 
 gown she wore. 
 
 Before Ealph could reply, the front door 
 opened and Edith Hale hurried out upon the 
 veranda, dressed for automobiling. 
 
 "Hello!" Ealph greeted her with a relieved 
 laugh, alighting from the car and running up
 
 In the Web of Life 173 
 
 the steps to meet her. "I'm glad you've come, 
 for Constance and I have just been wrangling 
 shockingly. ' ' 
 
 So natural was his manner that his fiancee 
 smiled at what she thought was his jest. 
 
 "Constance got awfully angry with me, too, 
 a while ago but I guess she 's gotten over it 
 haven't you, Connie?" 
 
 But Ealph did not allow Edith to wait long 
 enough to hear her cousin 's reply, or to see the 
 agitated face bent over the plants, but lifted the 
 girl bodily into the car, then sprang in beside 
 her. 
 
 "Good-by, Constance," he called back 
 tauntingly, as the car rolled down the drive. 
 But Constance Medford did not raise her 
 head. 
 
 Even after the car bearing Ealph and Edith 
 had disappeared around the turn of the road 
 Constance remained where the pair had left her, 
 battling to regain her self-control. When she 
 had forced back the tears that threatened to rise 
 to her eyes, and steadied her twitching lips, she 
 entered the house. On the way to her room she 
 met her aunt. The elderly woman greeted her 
 with an affectionate smile.
 
 174 I" the Web of Life 
 
 "Well, Constance, dear," she asked, "what 
 are you going to do with yourself now!" 
 
 "Practice after I have washed this dirt 
 from my hands," the girl replied. "I've been 
 fussing with the flowers out there in that veran- 
 da-box and my hands are very grimy." 
 
 "You've managed to get a little sunburned, 
 too," Mrs. Hale observed, glancing at the 
 flushed face. Then, as her niece made no an- 
 swer, she patted the hot cheeks gently. "You 
 are such a blessing to me these days," she said. 
 ' ' Edith is so changeable poor child ! for she 
 has been so upset. Her father, too, is absent- 
 minded and worried although he always makes 
 an effort to be cheerful. But you are just the 
 same all the time." 
 
 "Indeed I am not!" Constance protested. 
 "Only just now Ealph and Edith accused me of 
 being cross or quarrelsome, or something of 
 the kind and I was, too." She spoke the 
 words lightly, yet there was a hint of feeling 
 in the tone in which they were uttered. Her 
 aunt, hearing this, spoke soothingly. 
 
 "Well," she said, "I don't care whether they 
 said you were cross or not. I know you weren 't \ 
 You are always the same dear girl."
 
 In the Web of Life 175 
 
 1 'Not inside!" Constance warned her. "I 
 just burn with rage sometimes. Perhaps " 
 laughing tremulously "that is why I am 
 rather thin. My inward rages burn up all my 
 superfluous fat." 
 
 Her aunt laughed, too. "I have never seen 
 you show any bad temper in all your life, ' ' she 
 averred. "And I am sure you never would 
 unless your sense of justice or your affections 
 were outraged. If you loved any one to whom 
 people were unjust, of course you would get 
 angry. I would be disappointed in you if you 
 did not," 
 
 A swift wave of color, deeper than the flush 
 that was already there, swept across the girl's 
 face. To hide this she bent and kissed her 
 aunt. 
 
 "Then nobody must be unjust to you," she 
 remarked, half-seriously, "for I certainly do 
 love you, auntie." 
 
 "I know you do, dearie," returned the elderly 
 woman. "And now I mustn't detain you, for 
 I know you want to get to your music." 
 
 Alone in her room, Constance's cheeks were 
 slow in cooling. Why, she demanded, had she 
 felt embarrassed at her aunt's speech when she
 
 176 In the Web of Life 
 
 remembered that she had lost her temper in 
 espousing Tom's cause? Eidiculous! She 
 crushed the thought that any warmer sentiment 
 than friendship had made her angry when his 
 honor had been attacked. She told herself that 
 Tom had always been kind and courteous to 
 her, and that she felt toward him just what she 
 would have felt toward any absent person whom 
 she liked and who had been wrongfully accused. 
 Yet she knew that not since her childhood had 
 she been seized by such a rage as had possessed 
 her twice to-day when Tom Morton had been 
 wronged by word or hint. 
 
 She dashed cool water over her hot face, then 
 resolutely determined not to let her thoughts 
 stray any more to the topic that had agitated 
 her. Of course the only sentiment she had for 
 Tom was ordinary friendship! 
 
 With this assurance to herself, she went down' 
 to her practising. But thoughts do not always 
 obey commands, and, although one's eyes may 
 be upon one's notes, one's fancies may stray. 
 As Constance Medford played this morning her 
 mind reverted to what Ralph Morton had said. 
 She remembered how angry she had been with
 
 In the Web of Life 177 
 
 Edith only a few hours ago, and how later she 
 could not trust herself to reply to the girl's 
 overtures of peace. It was not like her, Con- 
 stance, to lose self-control. She was sorry she 
 had been so cross to Edith, even though it had 
 been a cruel thing to return Tom's letter to 
 him. Yet Constance loved her cousin and was 
 willing to apologize to her for her hasty speech. 
 She would not say that she had been unjust in 
 reproving Edith for returning that letter yet 
 she could say truthfully that she regretted inter- 
 fering in an affair that pertained to her cousin 
 and not to herself. As to Ealph as she mused 
 on him, on his insinuations with regard to his 
 friend, on his sneers, on his suggestions that 
 Tom had been dishonorably detained from the 
 engagement dinner the anger which she fan- 
 cied she had subdued returned in a measure, 
 and her playing betrayed her indignation. 
 
 Mrs. Hale, knitting in the library across the 
 hall, looked up from her work with a puzzled ex- 
 pression. It was wonderful what strength that 
 child had in those slender little fingers of hers ! 
 With a half smile the kind-hearted matron 
 arose and walked to the drawing-room door.
 
 178 In the Web of Life 
 
 Here she stood quietly waiting until the music 
 stopped. 
 
 ' ' My dear ! ' ' she exclaimed then, ' ' how do you 
 ever play with such force? What has gotten 
 into you to-day?" 
 
 Constance sprang to her feet. So absorbed 
 had she been in her own reflections that even 
 the gentle voice of her aunt had come as a shock 
 to her. 
 
 "Oh!" she ejaculated nervously. "I did not 
 know you were so near ! Did I play with more 
 vigor than usual?" 
 
 "You surely did," her aunt declared. "I 
 never heard you play anything in that way be- 
 fore." 
 
 "But," Constance tried to explain, "you 
 know that 'Bide of the Valkyries' is a noisy 
 thing anyway, with the clashing of brasses 
 and " 
 
 She stopped, stammering at her own confu- 
 sion. 
 
 "I think," her aunt suggested, "that you 
 may have played it harder than usual just now 
 because you were thinking harder than usual." 
 
 "Yes," Constance admitted, without looking 
 up, "I was thinking much harder than usual!"
 
 In the Web of Life 179 
 
 "You are right, my dear," Ralph declared 
 sententiously, "Constance is cross this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 The betrothed pair had ridden some miles be- 
 fore the man made this assertion. Edith had 
 allowed him his own will so far as conversation 
 went, and he had talked about himself, his views 
 of life and his experiences casting over every 
 incident a rose-colored light in which he ap- 
 peared especially well. His companion was in- 
 terested, in a way, in all that pertained to Ralph, 
 but her mind was full of the beauty of the day, 
 the joy of being loved by one man perhaps 
 more and petted by her family and friends. 
 She had gone little into the social world until 
 she had made her bow to society last Autumn. 
 Now, as her lover talked on, she mused of her 
 little triumphs since then, and felt herself very 
 fortunate. She was aware that the man who 
 sat by her side was considered handsome and 
 clever, and that many of the girls of her ac- 
 quaintance would be much flattered by his at- 
 tentions. So, if she did not love him much, 
 there was in her heart a pride of possession
 
 180 In the Web of Life 
 
 that seemed to her inexperience to be ''the real 
 thing." 
 
 Perhaps Ralph Morton felt a lack of enthusi- 
 asm in her desultory responses to his some- 
 what egotistical communications, for, after 
 waiting in vain for her to express admiration of 
 his conduct in some escapades of which he had 
 just told her, he broke the ensuing silence with 
 the remark quoted above. It had the effect of 
 arousing his listener to animation. 
 
 ' ' Oh, ' ' she protested. * ' I did not really mean 
 that Constance was cross. I should not have 
 said that. But to tell the truth she did get 
 suddenly angry after breakfast when I told 
 her I had returned Tom's letter to him un- 
 opened. ' ' 
 
 Ealph's face darkened. "She got angry, did 
 she?" he queried. 
 
 "Oh, yes," Edith replied, her light laugh 
 evincing how little rancor she felt toward her 
 cousin. "It was awfully funny, although at 
 first she actually scared me, for she spoke so 
 sharply. But I know she didn't mean it. It 
 was just a whim of the moment." 
 
 "Well, it lasted until my arrival or returned 
 when I spoke out an honest thought," Ralph
 
 In the Web of Life 181 
 
 said. "She flew into a white rage with me, 
 too." 
 
 Edith looked at him in surprise. "Are you 
 sure she was not in fun I ' ' she asked. 
 
 "No, my dear; she was far from fun," he re- 
 plied gravely. 
 
 1 ' But what under the sun could you have said 
 to make her angry with you I ' ' Edith wondered. 
 
 "I had the temerity to touch upon the same 
 subject that you touched upon," Ealph told her. 
 "I suggested that Tom was not a Bayard 
 without fear and without reproach, and she 
 very plainly and distinctly informed me that 
 my statement was 'a lie.' I quote her own 
 words." 
 
 ' ' Ealph ! ' ' Edith sat up very straight. ' ' You 
 don 't mean she said that ! ' ' 
 
 " I do mean it, dearest. She said exactly that. 
 You can hardly blame me for resenting her 
 speech. It's what a man would call a fighting 
 word, you know to tell a person he lies!" 
 
 Astonishment held Edith speechless until 
 they had reached the top of a hill commanding 
 a glimpse of the Hudson. 
 
 "Yes, it's beautiful," she assented, absent- 
 mindedly, as her companion called her attention
 
 1 82 In the Web of Life 
 
 to the view below them. Then she asked 
 abruptly: " Ralph, what do you suppose made 
 Constance speak to you in that way? Do you 
 know?" 
 
 The man seemed to hesitate before replying. 
 He was guiding his car down the steep road on 
 the other side of the hill they had just mounted, 
 which may have accounted for his hesitation. 
 When he spoke at last it was with apparent 
 reluctance. 
 
 "I don't like to say that I know why she lost 
 her temper with me," he said, "but I have my 
 suspicions. And as there are to be no secrets 
 between you and me, dearest, perhaps I ought 
 to tell you what I suspect. You know that Con- 
 stance and Tom have been good friends ever 
 since she visited you some years ago long 
 before her father's death." 
 
 "Yes, I know," said Edith, "at least they 
 got on pleasantly together when they met in 
 my house. But that would hardly account for 
 her resenting so hotly any criticism of him." 
 
 "No? Well, then, I must explain further. 
 She is in Tom's confidence. He has told her 
 about various affairs he has had. He may need 
 money. She knows that, too. She has urged
 
 In the Web of Life 183 
 
 you to accept Tom, has wanted you to marry 
 him." 
 
 "But why?" asked Edith more puzzled than 
 ever. 
 
 "Because he is her friend. She is poor and 
 a dependent. As long as he has money he will 
 see that she is provided for." 
 
 He paused, but the girl at his side still looked 
 mystified. "Yet I don't understand," she 
 said. 
 
 "I can't put it much more plainly," Ralph 
 objected embarrassedly. ' ' But surely you know 
 that were Tom married to you his financial 
 troubles would cease." 
 
 He stopped, startled by the girl's sudden ex- 
 clamation. "Oh!" she gasped, "you don't 
 mean that Tom ever thought of my money " 
 
 She said no more, for the man had brought 
 the car to a standstill on the lonely country 
 road, and as she lifted her distressed face to 
 his, he drew her to him and kissed her ten- 
 derly. 
 
 "Yes," he murmured, "my poor, trustful 
 little girl, that is just what I mean. And when 
 I think that any man could consider your money
 
 184 In the Web of Life 
 
 in asking you to marry him I feel as if I could 
 kill "him with my own hands ! ' ' 
 
 "And and " the girl faltered, "you be- 
 lieve that Connie considered my marriage to 
 Tom from that viewpoint ? I can 't think that ! ' ' 
 
 "Dear," the man argued compassionately, 
 "how could she help it when he showed it to 
 her? He is the one to blame. Of herself per- 
 haps she would never have thought of it. Now, 
 darling now do you understand why it is that 
 I loving you so that if you were a beggar I 
 should still consider you my queen feel as I do 
 about Tom? Do you understand it now?" 
 
 But shocked surprise, disappointment and 
 wounded pride made it impossible for Edith to 
 do more than nod her assent. Yet as the man 
 noted her agitation his eyes did not soften. In- 
 stead, a look of triumph stole into them as if he 
 already anticipated a satisfactory crop from 
 the seed which he had sown.
 
 Chapter Thirteen 
 
 The sound of an automobile coming up the 
 driveway drew Constance to the window of her 
 room where she had been sitting since leaving 
 the piano a half hour ago. She had been trying 
 to finish a dainty shirtwaist she was embroider- 
 ing for Edith, but her fingers were not as steady 
 as usual and she had set the regular stitches 
 with difficulty. She was strangely agitated to- 
 day, disturbed by a feeling as if something of 
 an unusual nature were about to happen. She 
 welcomed the sound of the approaching motor 
 car as an excuse for abandoning her sewing and 
 looking out of the window. She was not often 
 so easily allured from any task. 
 
 "It's only Ealph and Edith,'* she murmured 
 as the car came slowly around the turn in the 
 driveway. "He looks self-satisfied, as usual. 
 But Edith doesn't seem happy. I wonder what 
 he's been saying to her." 
 
 She heard her aunt greet the pair at the front 
 door when the automobile had come to a stand- 
 still. Mrs. Hale's voice urging Ralph to stay 
 1185
 
 1 86 In the Web of Life 
 
 to luncheon rang out clearly and the man's 
 polite declination was borne to Constance's 
 ears. If Edith spoke it was in such a low voice 
 that her cousin did not hear her. Evidently 
 she was in a quiet mood. The listener's con- 
 science smote her as she thought that possibly 
 her own impatient speech of several hours ago 
 and her silence at Edith's advances toward 
 peace had added to the girl's depression. She 
 determined that she would do her part toward 
 healing the breach if breach there were. To 
 this end she opened her door as she heard Edith 
 coming upstairs. 
 
 "Come in here, dear, won't you?" she called 
 cheerily. 
 
 Edith paused in the doorway, looking fixedly 
 at the speaker. 
 
 "Why?" she asked. "Have you anything 
 special to say to me ? ' ' 
 
 * ' Come in and I '11 tell you, ' ' Constance urged. 
 Then, as the girl obeyed, Constance closed the 
 door behind them both, and turning to her 
 companion put her arm about her. 
 
 "Dear," she said, "forgive me for being so 
 sharp in my speech this morning. And for- 
 give me also for not answering you when you
 
 In the Web of Life 187 
 
 spoke jestingly to me as you were starting off 
 on your drive. At that minute I could not 
 reply, for I was nervous and foolishly upset, 
 and was afraid to trust my voice lest I show 
 some emotion. But I was not angry with you 
 then, dear. As to what I said to you this morn- 
 ing about your having returned that letter 
 you must please pardon it. I spoke on the im- 
 pulse of the moment, and about a matter that 
 was none of my business. I am sure you love 
 me enough to overlook it all, don't you, Edith?" 
 
 Edith had drawn herself from her cousin's 
 embrace, but so gently that the movement did 
 not seem like the outcome of anger. 
 
 "There's no need to apologize," she said, 
 gravely. * * From what Ralph tells me you were 
 vexed with him for the same reason that you 
 were vexed with me. He has also mentioned 
 other things that hurt me so much more than 
 your temper did that I can excuse that." 
 
 "What things?" demanded Constance, 
 steadying her voice and concealing her wounded 
 surprise at Edith's lack of response to her 
 appeal. 
 
 "Oh, they all pertain to the same person, of 
 course." Edith paused, then began to remove
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 the veil from her hat, lifting her hands and 
 bending her head so that Constance could not 
 see the expression of her face, and when she 
 spoke again her voice was somewhat muffled by 
 her attitude. "But you know without my tell- 
 ing you who that person is Tom Morton, your 
 friend and my enemy." 
 
 ' * Your enemy ! ' ' echoed Constance. ' ' Scarcely 
 that, Edith although you and he have had a 
 misunderstanding. ' ' 
 
 "A misunderstanding!" Edith exclaimed. 
 "No, an understanding! For now I under- 
 stand what he has been and is. Only this morn- 
 ing I have learned that you and he understand 
 each other in a still different way! Oh, when 
 I think of it all I see what a fool I have been 
 all along!" 
 
 Constance noted the girl's growing excite- 
 ment and strove to check it. 
 
 "Edith," she begged, "don't let yourself say 
 things you may regret later, things that are, at 
 the worst, but suspicions. Wait, dear, until you 
 have had time to think, until you and I have had 
 a quiet talk together." 
 
 But the agitated creature flung off the hand 
 the other laid on her arm.
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 1 1 A quiet talk ! ' ' she exclaimed. ' ' Suspicions ! 
 No, there is no quiet talk that I care to have 
 with you, Constance. As to what you call sus- 
 picionsthey are facts, and you need not try to 
 make me believe otherwise by hinting that 
 Ealph is anything but good and honorable. You 
 made me believe or tried to make me believe 
 that Tom was good. But you cannot make 
 me believe that Ralph is bad now that I know 
 you and Tom are in league together against 
 him." 
 
 Constance 's eyes flashed and her breath came 
 quickly. "It is time that I demanded an expla- 
 nation ! ' ' she declared. * ' What do you mean by 
 that speech?" 
 
 "I will not tell you!" exclaimed Edith. 
 "What would be the use? You know it all al- 
 ready. But it is my father whom I shall tell! 
 He shall know the whole truth ! ' ' 
 
 She hesitated, then as her eyes met Con- 
 stance's stern gaze she turned away abruptly, 
 controlling her voice and manner by a mighty 
 effort. 
 
 "If you will excuse me," she said, formally, 
 "I will go to my room now and get ready for 
 luncheon. And I must ask you as an especial
 
 190 In the Web of Life 
 
 favor not to talk about this matter to my father 
 until I have had time to do so myself." 
 
 "I do not promise to grant that favor," Con- 
 stance returned firmly, "but I can assure you 
 that my manner shall not betray to him or aunt 
 that you and I are not on pleasant terms." 
 
 Edith started as if to speak, but, changing 
 her mind, walked quickly away, and as she left 
 the room Constance Medford made no move- 
 ment to detain her. 
 
 It spoke well for the breeding of Edith Hale 
 and Constance Medford that while they sat at 
 luncheon with Mrs. Hale the elderly woman did 
 not suspect that any altercation had occurred 
 between the two girls. The meal ended, Edith 
 remarked that she thought she would go into 
 town to do a little shopping. 
 
 "There are several things I need," she ob- 
 served, "and this is as good a time as any to 
 get them, for I happen to have no engagement 
 for this afternoon. I shall go to father's office 
 and come out on the train with him." 
 
 She glanced at Constance as she said this. 
 The older girl interpreted the look to mean 
 that her cousin would now have an opportunity 
 to tell her father of Ralph's insinuations. The
 
 In the Web of Life 191 
 
 sudden qualm that assailed Constance was 
 quickly replaced by a feeling of security in the 
 wisdom of her uncle's judgment and in his trust 
 in the orphan girl to whom he had been so kind. 
 He, John Hale, would not believe anything 
 against his wife's niece unless he heard some- 
 thing from Constance's own lips that would 
 disappoint him in his present faith in her. 
 Could Edith really believe Balph's statements? 
 Yet she knew that the man would tell such a 
 plausible story that it would be hard for the 
 most judicial listener to discredit it. 
 
 What could she do she, a solitary girl to 
 protect herself against the calumny of a design- 
 ing man f Would it do any good if she were to 
 have a frank talk with him, were to ask him why 
 he hated her? Yet even as she pondered she 
 knew that the reason he hated her was because 
 she saw through his subterfuges, because she 
 was Tom Morton's friend and advocate, and 
 because Edith and her money were at present 
 the aim of Ealph's existence. He would do his 
 best to ruin Tom Morton in the eyes of Edith's 
 parents if by thus doing he could strengthen 
 his own standing in the family and banish Tom 
 from the circle of their acquaintances.
 
 192 In the Web of Life 
 
 Once more in her own room with time to 
 think collectedly, Constance Medford appreci- 
 ated keenly the loneliness of her position. Yet 
 what she did not appreciate was the feeling of 
 distrust and wrathful resentment that had taken 
 possession of Edith. It was the first time in 
 John Hale's spoiled child's career that she had 
 ever had occasion to suspect that a person 
 courted her for any reason except to win the 
 friendship or affection of her attractive self. 
 The idea that the man who, she had flattered 
 herself, loved her, that the cousin who had 
 petted and indulged her, should have schemed 
 to sacrifice her to their desire for her money 
 in fact, should have formed a vile conspiracy 
 against her, had changed all the sweetness in 
 her nature into the gall of bitterness. A vain 
 woman cannot forgive such a blow to her van- 
 ity and self-love. 
 
 But this Constance did not know. Therefore 
 when a light tap sounded on her door, she said 
 * ' Come in ! ' ' with no premonition of the painful 
 scene ahead of her. To her surprise, her cousin 
 entered, dressed for her trip to town. 
 
 " Excuse me for intruding," Edith said 
 coldly, "but I happened to notice when I was
 
 In the Web of Life 193 
 
 in here this noon that you had been working 
 on that blouse which you are embroidering for 
 me. I just stopped in now to ask you not to 
 trouble to finish it. I would rather not have it. ' ' 
 
 A hurt that was almost like a physical pain 
 made Constance draw in her breath sharply. 
 She replied at once, however, and in a natural 
 tone. 
 
 "That must be as you wish," she said. "It 
 has been a pleasure to me to do this little bit 
 of sewing for you. You know I selected the 
 shade of pink that you like best, and I have 
 made the blouse especially for you. It has been 
 a labor of love, Edith." 
 
 "Scarcely that, I think," said the younger 
 girl. "I have no wish to discuss a painful mat- 
 ter with you, Constance. But you must under- 
 stand that as I am engaged to a man whom you 
 wish to injure I can hardly accept a so-called 
 love-token from you. Yet, since you remind 
 me that you selected this material and did the 
 work for me, I do not want to put you to any 
 loss. Therefore I am perfectly willing to buy 
 the waist from you." 
 
 Constance flushed darkly and an angry glow- 
 sprang to her eyes. She closed the door, and,
 
 194 I n the Web of Life 
 
 putting her back against it, faced the sneering 
 girl. 
 
 "See here," she said slowly, and in a tone 
 that did not sound like her own, so hard and 
 cold was it, "you do not wish to talk over a 
 painful matter, but you do not hesitate to say 
 things that I insist you shall explain. And you 
 shall not leave this room until you tell me what 
 you mean." 
 
 Edith threw her head back defiantly. "So 
 that is your idea, is it?" she said. "I did not 
 intend to say more, yet you drive me to it. You 
 really wish to know what I mean?" 
 
 "I do!" Constance challenged in her turn. 
 
 Edith Hale let her last hold on her self-con- 
 trol go. Her whole frame seemed to radiate 
 the rage that possessed her. 
 
 "Very well! Then you have yourself to 
 blame, not me, if you hear the truth. I learned 
 to-day that Tom Morton wanted to marry me 
 for my money," she shuddered as she said the 
 words, "and that as you and he are intimate 
 you were to help him win me. Yes," as Con- 
 stance grew deadly pale and shrank back in 
 horror, "it sounds pretty bad to you, doesn't 
 it? Think how it sounded to me who have
 
 In the Web of Life 195 
 
 trusted you ! And to accomplish your ends you 
 have tried to poison my mind against the man 
 who loves me for myself only. Can you deny 
 that you warned me against Ralph!" 
 
 She paused, but as Constance did not answer 
 immediately, hurried on. "Your silence gives 
 consent," she accused. "Dare you deny that 
 you have shown a distrust in Ralph, that 
 you have tried to convince me of Tom's good- 
 ness and to bring about my marriage to him? 
 Dare you deny that you and he have " 
 
 She stopped, appalled for the instant at the 
 look on her cousin's face. Before she could 
 make another accusation Constance flung the 
 door wide open and pointed to it, her eyes flash- 
 ing, her lips twitching. 
 
 "Leave this room at once!" she ordered in 
 a low, tense voice. 
 
 As if hypnotized, Edith started toward the 
 hall, but in the doorway turned to send back a 
 .Parthian arrow. 
 
 "You will please remember," she sneered, 
 "that this is one of my father's rooms you are 
 ordering his daughter out of!" 
 
 But the white-faced girl, staring blankly at 
 her, seemed too much dazed to reply.
 
 196 In the Web of Life 
 
 Constance Medford was no saint. Sorrow 
 and bereavement had taught her a certain 
 amount of unselfishness and consideration for 
 other people. These lessons she had acquired 
 with more ease than would one of a less sunny 
 temper. But at heart she was proud. Sincere 
 herself, she could not stand any doubt of her 
 sincerity. To her a lie was a mean sin. Having 
 lived for years with her father she had learned 
 to despise deception, for he had been an hon- 
 orable gentleman. In him she had found her 
 best-loved companion. The one girl who, she 
 felt, knew her intimately, had been her cousin 
 Edith. When Arthur Medford died his heart- 
 broken daughter had thought at once of the 
 only relatives whom she loved. They had 
 thought of her as swiftly and had come to her, 
 bearing her off to their home. She was sure 
 that Edith had complete faith in her, that the 
 girl had never grudged any of the favors 
 shown by John Hale and his wife. While Con- 
 stance recognized that Edith's nature was not 
 deep, while she occasionally felt a passing an- 
 noyance with her facile likes and dislikes, she 
 had always loved her and had been confident 
 of Edith's affection for herself. The younger
 
 In the Web of Life 197 
 
 girl had turned to her in perplexities of all 
 kinds a sure proof of one's trust in a friend. 
 
 All these things Constance remembered in the 
 hours in which she was alone through the fair 
 May afternoon. Her aunt came to her room and 
 asked her if she would care to make some calls 
 with her, but Constance pleaded a headache as 
 an excuse for declining the invitation. 
 
 * ' It is kind of you to ask me, aunt, ' ' she said 
 wistfully. 
 
 "I'm sorry you can't go, dear child," Mrs. 
 Hale regretted. "But you do look pale and 
 sick. Lie down now, dear, and let me darken 
 your room." 
 
 It was easier to yield than to resist, Con- 
 stance thought, and lay down obediently while 
 her aunt closed the shutters and threw a light 
 cover over her. When, after kissing her again, 
 she had gone out, Constance lay still until she 
 heard the Hale automobile drive away. Then 
 she sat up in the darkened room, her hands 
 clasping her throbbing head, and tried to think 
 out the situation. And the ' * thoughts of youth" 
 that are "long, long thoughts ' ' drove her nearly 
 wild. 
 
 Certain facts stood out clearly before her.
 
 198 In the Web of Life 
 
 One was that Ralph Morton hated her and was 
 trying to injure her, but this in itself troubled 
 her little. That he had succeeded in making 
 Edith, her pet and best girl friend, believe his 
 scurrilous lies, ate into her very soul. That 
 John Hale might question her terrified her. 
 Not that she was afraid for herself, but she 
 simply could not tell him of the cruel things 
 his daughter, his only and darling child, had 
 said to a lonely girl, a beneficiary of his bounty. 
 That was what hurt the hopelessness of ever 
 clearing up the situation. Here was she, Con- 
 stance Medford, making her home in the house 
 of a man whose daughter believed her to be a 
 vile schemer, who even taunted her with the fact 
 that she was a dependent. 
 
 As she pondered the situation she reached 
 the only decision possible. She could not con- 
 tinue to live here, since she could not let her 
 uncle know what Ralph had said. For if she 
 did, he would renounce Ralph and thus Edith 
 would be made wretched. But where should she 
 go! She could support herself in a way by 
 teaching music, but as her pupils were all in 
 Homewood what would she do if she left this 
 place? It would make disagreeable comment
 
 In the Web of Life 199 
 
 were she to board in this town now after hav- 
 ing made her home with her relatives. The only 
 thing for her to do would be to board in New 
 York and commute daily to Homewood. She 
 would explain this to her uncle. 
 
 The sinking sun was casting level rays into 
 her room when at last she appreciated that the 
 afternoon had passed, and that the family would 
 soon return home. She would make herself pre- 
 sentable, for life must be lived no matter how 
 one's plans and hopes have been upset. 
 
 She was dressed for dinner when her uncle 
 sent word to her that he would like to see her 
 in the library. She had heard him and Edith 
 arrive some minutes earlier, and had been 
 dreading this summons. 
 
 She, like Ralph when he had so recently been 
 ushered into this room, was glad to find John 
 Hale alone. Edith had gone upstairs. 
 
 "Come in, Constance, and sit down," her 
 uncle said kindly. Yet there was a constraint 
 about his manner that the girl felt. * * I want to 
 ask you a question or two." 
 
 The questions were delicately put. John Hale 
 had learned from Edith that Constance and she 
 had had some bitter words as a result of an
 
 2OO In the Web of Life 
 
 accusation that the younger girl had made 
 against the older one. 
 
 "I asked Edith to tell me what she accused 
 you of, but all I could learn was that one of 
 the items was a partiality for Tom rather than 
 for Kalph," John Hale said. "I could hardly 
 blame you for that," he tried to smile, "since, 
 as you know, I favored Tom's suit myself. 
 Yet," becoming grave again, "Edith tells me 
 that she urged you to deny certain things which 
 she was forced to believe, and that you could 
 not do this." 
 
 He paused, as if hoping his listener would 
 make some comment, but she said nothing. 
 
 ' * Edith, ' ' he continued, ' ' was undoubtedly de- 
 terred from telling me just what passed between 
 you and her for fear she might seem disloyal to 
 you if she said too much I mean she probably 
 refused to go into particulars as to what she 
 had heard, preferring to stand by you in this 
 matter." 
 
 The face at which he was gazing underwent 
 a swift change. Something that was almost 
 like a bitter smile twisted the pale lips. The 
 expression of cynicism irritated the man, and 
 he spoke out impulsively.
 
 In the Web of Life 201 
 
 " Putting all that aside" he said harshly, 
 "what surprises me most, Constance, is that 
 my daughter declares that you ordered her out 
 of your room, that you were so swept away by 
 wrath that you could do this to Edith the girl 
 who has always loved you! I cannot imagine 
 that anything that child could say could make 
 you as angry as that. I hope you regret the 
 action now?" 
 
 But though he waited for a reply, Constance 
 still sat before him, silent. 
 
 "Surely," he urged, his voice softening, "you 
 are sorry for what you did?" And again he 
 paused, waiting for the answer that did not 
 come.
 
 Chapter Fourteen 
 
 Some of the moments that are like hours fol- 
 lowed John Hale's appeal to Constance Med- 
 ford. To the man they were long; to the girl 
 they seemed an eternity. She was silent, not 
 from obstinacy, but from actual inability to ex- 
 press herself. The fact that in justice to oth- 
 ers she could not speak the truth held her dumb. 
 She had grown very pale, and a great pity for 
 her moved her companion. He longed to draw 
 the lonely girl to him and tell her that he 
 wanted to help her. Of course she had lost all 
 self-control for a moment, yet she was sorry 
 for it now. 
 
 But his kindly impulses received a shock 
 when, as he repeated, "I am sure you are sorry 
 now, ' ' the girl said resolutely : 
 
 "I am sorry to displease you, uncle. But I 
 cannot truthfully say that I regret my action." 
 
 John Hale started to his feet in astonishment. 
 "Constance!" he ejaculated, "you will please 
 give me a satisfactory explanation of that 
 speech 1 ' ' 
 
 2O2
 
 In the Web of Life 203 
 
 "No, uncle," Constance said, rising, too. "I 
 am afraid my explanation would not be satis- 
 factory to you, yet it is the only one I can 
 give." 
 
 "I insist upon hearing it, whatever it is !" he 
 demanded. 
 
 The girl dropped her eyes. "I will tell you 
 all that I feel that I can," she said. As she 
 stood before her questioner, her hands tightly 
 clasped, the fingers interlocked, she looked like 
 a frightened yet unrepentant child. "Others 
 can tell you more if they wish. All I can say 
 is that Edith thinks I have been anxious to have 
 her marry Tom instead of Ealph, and that I 
 like Tom and do not like Ealph. ' ' 
 
 Her uncle regarded her incredulously. "And 
 for that accusation from Edith a silly accusa- 
 tion, perhaps, but surely not an offensive one 
 you ordered a loving girl from your room in 
 such a manner that she broke down and cried 
 in telling me of it in my office this afternoon. 
 Yes she did ! In all her life I have never known 
 Edith to show as much hurt and resentment as 
 she displayed in talking of this trouble. Yet 
 when I questioned her as to details she referred 
 me to you."
 
 204 In the Web of Life 
 
 Constance raised her head and looked him 
 squarely in the eyes. "And I," she said, "in 
 my turn refer you to her." 
 
 Before she could guess the man's intention, 
 he strode to the door, and, opening it, called 
 Edith. His daughter answered so promptly 
 that Constance wondered if she had been 
 waiting at the head of the stairs. She came 
 down immediately, and, as her father closed 
 the door behind her, glanced at him inquir- 
 ingly. She did not look in Constance's direc- 
 tion. 
 
 "What is it, father?" she asked. Her voice 
 was hard and her eyes cold. 
 
 ' ' Sit down, darling, ' ' her father said. Then, 
 as an after-thought, he suggested. "Sit down, 
 Constance." Wearily he took his own chair at 
 his desk. 
 
 "Daughter," he said, "you have never lied 
 to me nor disobeyed me in all your life. I want 
 you to tell me now what took place in Con- 
 stance's room this afternoon." 
 
 The reply was an abrupt question. "Hasn't 
 Constance told you?" 
 
 "She says," the parent informed her, "that 
 you accused her of a partiality for Tom and of
 
 In the Web of Life 205 
 
 a desire to have you marry Tom rather than 
 Ralph. Is that what you said to her ? ' ' 
 
 1 'It is a part of what I said to her," Edith re- 
 plied. "But I told her the whole truth, or as 
 much as I had courage to tell. I want to obey 
 you, father, but all I can bring myself to tell 
 you is that I did accuse Constance of being 
 Tom's ally, of wanting him to marry me for 
 
 reasons which I stated, of Oh, dad, I 
 
 can 't go on with the disgraceful story ! I dared 
 her to deny it for I thought she might be able 
 to explain a part of the clandestine business 
 and she ordered me from her room!" 
 
 1 i Great Heavens ! ' ' the man looked appalled. 
 "Edith," he insisted, forcing himself to speak 
 calmly "where did you learn all this story?" 
 
 "From someone who knows the truth and 
 spoke it, ' ' she replied. 
 
 "From Ralph, I suppose," Mr. Hale rejoined. 
 "Then he shall give me facts." 
 
 1 ' Father, ' ' Edith pleaded, ' ' as Ralph is a gen- 
 tleman and Tom's cousin, it would hardly be 
 fair to question him. But I, as his fiancee, have 
 a right to say what 7 know. I asked Constance 
 to write and tell Tom that I did not want to see 
 him. She said she would. I thought no more
 
 206 In the Web of Life 
 
 about it. Now I learn that on that very day 
 she got a telegram from him, and that the let- 
 ter she pretended to write at my request was 
 really an answer to that telegram. I suppose 
 she told him she regretted my treatment of him, 
 and that she was still his friend. ' ' She paused, 
 breathless with indignation. 
 
 "How do you know she got a telegram from 
 Tom?" Mr. Hale demanded. 
 
 * ' Because, ' ' the girl hesitated ' * well Peter 
 Ralph's man, you know passing at that time, 
 saw a messenger boy hand the yellow envelope 
 to Constance, and mentioned this to Ralph. 
 She stood in the shelter of the trees and read 
 it. Later, as Ralph went to the office for a 
 copy of the wire that had been delivered to his 
 mother by phone the night before, he asked 
 casually if any message had come to this place 
 from Tom Morton. You see, Ralph knows the 
 operator well, and he learned that a message 
 had come addressed to Miss Medford. Of 
 course Ralph was too honorable to ask what 
 the telegram said." 
 
 Mr. Hale laughed harshly. "The same con- 
 sideration might have kept him from prying 
 into the matter at all, or tempting an employee
 
 In the Web of Life 207 
 
 of the telegraph company to talk of that about 
 which he is supposed to hold his tongue. Per- 
 haps he thinks all is fair in love and war, and 
 this seems to be both. But that is beside the 
 question. I will try to get at the truth about the 
 first charge you bring. My dear," turning to 
 his niece, "was the telegram you received from 
 Tom of a private nature f ' ' 
 
 "Yes, sir," the girl replied, without looking 
 at the questioner. 
 
 "Did it pertain to Edith's affairs?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 A pained look came to the man 's face. ' ' Did 
 you," he asked sternly, "reply to that tele- 
 gram?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," Constance answered in a dull 
 tone. 
 
 "Was the nature of that reply confidential?" 
 
 "Yes, it was!" the harassed girl exclaimed, 
 springing to her feet. "Oh, I cannot tell you 
 anything more," she declared abruptly, "ex- 
 cept that I am sorry for your disappointment 
 in me after all you have done for me." Her 
 voice broke. ' ' Excuse me ! ' ' she murmured in- 
 coherently, and fled from the room and upstairs. 
 
 As she reached the turn on the staircase
 
 208 In the Web of Life 
 
 Ralph entered the front door. He paused as he 
 spied the slight, hurrying figure; then walked 
 straight into the library. 
 
 He appeared flushed from exercise and more 
 than usually handsome and sure of himself. He 
 had been invited to dine here to-night and had 
 expected to find Edith awaiting him. 
 
 "Hallo!" he said. "Am I early or late for 
 your dinner hour?" 
 
 He stopped, as if just now conscious that 
 something unusual had been going on. The pair 
 whom he greeted did not know that he had seen 
 Constance's flight and had suspected that an 
 agitating scene had just been enacted. * ' I beg 
 pardon if I am interrupting or intruding," he 
 added. 
 
 "Not at all!" John Hale rejoined gravely. 
 "Perhaps you can clear up this mystery. Did 
 you furnish Edith with alleged facts about her 
 cousin and about Tom Morton!" 
 
 Once more Ealph found himself in a position 
 where the truth was safer than a lie. He looked 
 unflinchingly at the speaker. 
 
 "I did tell Edith," he acknowledged, "cer- 
 tain facts which, as my betrothed and future 
 wife, she should know. It is my right to pro-
 
 In the Web of Life 209 
 
 tect her. It was my duty to put her on her 
 guard." 
 
 "Against whom?" demanded Edith's father. 
 
 "Against Tom Morton and his friend," he 
 replied, dropping his voice as if regretting to 
 be forced to make this admission. "I was 
 aware of certain clandestine transactions " 
 
 ' ' Stop ! ' ' warned John Hale. * ' You will have 
 to prove what you say! I challenge you to 
 prove anything against my niece ! ' ' 
 
 Here Edith broke in. "I have told father," 
 she explained, "that Constance has received 
 at least one telegram from Tom a telegram 
 which she kept secret and that she wrote to 
 him clandestinely." 
 
 "Wait, dear," her father reproved her, "you 
 said you asked her to write." 
 
 It was evident that he was clinging tena- 
 ciously to his hope in the orphaned girl's honor, 
 also that his faith in her had had a rude shock. 
 
 "Yes, daddy," Edith replied gently. "But 
 you heard her acknowledge that the letter she 
 wrote was of a private nature, and in reply to 
 Tom's telegram. Oh, it is all dreadful enough 
 as it is but, father, do not add to my wretch- 
 edness by doubting Ralph ! He has kept silent
 
 2io In the Web of Life 
 
 all these months, while he has known what was 
 going on never speaking until I gave him the 
 right to. You must believe him as I do im- 
 plicitly!" 
 
 ' ' I believe implicitly, my dear, ' ' the older man 
 said dryly, "the person whose statements will 
 bear investigation. I cannot question Con- 
 stance further. She is pitifully nervous. She 
 refuses to explain her strange conduct to you 
 this afternoon." 
 
 Ealph looked inquiringly at his betrothed. 
 "Yes, Ralph," she said iri reply to his look, 
 her eyes filling with tears of self-pity. "Con- 
 stance ordered me from her room actually 
 that flung open the door and commanded me 
 to go out, slamming it after me and locking 
 it!" 
 
 As sobs checked further speech on her part, 
 John Bale's indignation against his niece re- 
 asserted itself and Ealph, noting this, ceased 
 his own murmurs of sympathy for the weeping 
 girl to turn upon her father with : 
 
 "Can you hear that and still believe in Con- 
 stance's loyalty to her cousin? Oh, sir, I am 
 sorry, heart-broken, to have been the cause of 
 all this suffering. I had hoped by warning
 
 In the Web of Life 211 
 
 Edith quietly of the state of affairs to prevent 
 all this. Not that I blame Edith for asking 
 Constance for an explanation " 
 
 "I could not help it!" sobbed the girl. "I 
 loved her and could not bear to think she had 
 been disloyal when I trusted her. ' ' 
 
 "Be still, my child," John Hale bade her. 
 There was no severity in his manner, yet it had 
 the effect of quieting the hysterical girl. ' * We 
 all myself most of all are making a great ado 
 about a matter we know nothing about. My 
 common sense has come suddenly to the front. 
 I shall form no opinion until I know more than 
 I know now." 
 
 "Yet, surely," Ealph reminded him, "you 
 can hardly excuse your niece's behavior this 
 afternoon to this poor girl!" 
 
 "I surely do not understand it," the father 
 replied. "But I shall suspend judgment until 
 I have one more talk with the other person con- 
 cerned." 
 
 "You mean " Ealph began. 
 
 "I mean," Mr. Hale interrupted him, "Tom 
 Morton. When I had a talk with him early this 
 afternoon" Ealph started, then controlled fur- 
 ther evidence of astonishment "I was igno-
 
 212 In the Web of Life 
 
 rant of certain things which I now suspect. I 
 shall therefore see him again." 
 
 "When? Where?" queried Ealph. His 
 tone was natural, yet a keen observer would 
 have noted signs of uneasiness in his manner. 
 
 "To-night, and here if possible," Mr. Hale 
 replied. "All right!" to the maid who an- 
 nounced dinner. "We will be right in." As 
 the servant withdrew he turned again to the 
 young people. "I would suggest," he said, 
 ' * that we do not annoy mother with any of this 
 trouble unless we have to. We will appear as 
 if nothing had happened. I do not want to 
 arouse her suspicions by telephoning to Tom 
 now, for she would hear me from the dining- 
 room. As soon as she goes into the library 
 after dinner I will call him up. Ah, there comes 
 Constance downstairs now. She can be counted 
 on to comport herself as if all was well. The 
 girl certainly understands how to keep her 
 troubles to herself. Come into dinner now, 
 both of you, and let us all try for the next hour 
 to forget the unfortunate occurrences of the 
 day." 
 
 The presence of one person ignorant of cer- 
 tain embarrassing conditions will help those
 
 In the Web of Life 213 
 
 who are conscious of these to act as if they, 
 too, were ignorant of them. So at table this 
 evening the men talked of affairs in the business 
 world at least Mr. Hale talked business and 
 Ralph answered in a way that would lead one 
 to suppose him well informed along these lines ; 
 Edith made an occasional remark, while Con- 
 stance replied pleasantly to any question put 
 to her. Her silence at other times was ac- 
 counted for in her aunt's mind by the fact that 
 "the child had a headache." 
 
 Mrs. Hale seemed inclined to linger longer 
 than usual over the coffee. She had made calls 
 in the afternoon and told happily of what she 
 had heard and seen upon her expedition. 
 
 "I was so sorry you were not well enough to 
 accompany me, ' ' she said to her niece. 
 
 Constance smiled wanly in appreciation of 
 this remark. 
 
 "But you are still pale," her aunt observed. 
 
 John Hale saw in this speech an opportunity 
 to suggest leaving the table. He wanted to 
 telephone to Tom, but did not wish to betray 
 this fact to his wife. 
 
 "Perhaps Constance's head would be better 
 in a cooler room than this," he ventured.
 
 214 In the Web of Life 
 
 His wife agreed with him at once. "Why, of 
 course!" she exclaimed. "I have been sitting 
 here talking of myself while I might better have 
 been thinking of other people's comfort." 
 
 As the betrothed pair and Mrs. Hale moved 
 on into the library, Constance opened the front 
 door and lingered there a moment. The air felt 
 good upon her heated forehead. As she stood 
 thus, she was aware that her uncle was tele- 
 phoning to some one. 
 
 "I insist that you come !" he was saying per- 
 emptorily. "Yes. I know it's past eight now. 
 But take your car and come out. I shall expect 
 you, Tom ! I don 't care if you don 't arrive until 
 ten I shall be waiting for you." 
 
 So Tom was coming here to-night, Con- 
 stance thought with a dull surprise. 
 
 A stealthy step made her turn. Ealph was 
 just reentering the library. He had come out 
 into the hall unnoticed by her, she appreciated 
 swiftly. Then he, too, had heard her uncle's 
 summons to Tom. 
 
 ' ' Constance ! ' ' Mrs. Hale called. ' ' Where are 
 you, dear?" 
 
 "Here I am," the girl replied, going into 
 the library.
 
 In the Web of Life 215 
 
 "I just wanted to ask how your head is now," 
 her aunt said. ' ' These young people are going 
 out on the veranda, but your uncle and I will 
 be glad to have you sit here with us." 
 
 "Thank you," Constance said. "But if you 
 will excuse me, I will go to my room soon. 
 Perhaps my head will be improved by rest and 
 darkness." 
 
 "Headaches are nasty things," Ealph de- 
 clared patronizingly, with an effort to speak as 
 if he and Constance were on pleasant terms. 
 But as the girl made no reply, and Edith did 
 not second his remark, he changed the subject 
 and told an amusing story at which his fiancee 
 smiled and her mother laughed good-naturedly. 
 
 Yet Constance saw that there was a restless 
 expression in his eyes and that he replied 
 absent-mindedly to some question his hostess 
 asked him, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. 
 
 When, a moment later, John Hale entered, 
 the young man turned to him with exaggerated 
 nonchalance. 
 
 "Might I," he asked, "use your telephone 
 for a moment? I happen to remember a mat- 
 ter I should have spoken to my man about be- 
 fore I left home."
 
 216 In the Web of Life 
 
 11 Certainly, " Mr. Hale returned gravely. 
 "You know where the instrument is." 
 
 "Was he really going to call up his home?" 
 Constance wondered skeptically. Yet her doubt 
 as to his intention was dispelled as, having told 
 her relatives good-night, she passed through 
 the hall on her way to her room and heard 
 Ealph ask some one at his house to tell Peter 
 to come to the telephone. She seemed destined 
 to overhear telephone communications, she 
 mused as she hurried on upstairs and closed 
 her door before anything more could reach her 
 ears. Then the matter passed from her mind 
 crowded out by her unhappiness. 
 
 "While Mr. and Mrs. John Hale were seated 
 in the library, reading, as was their custom at 
 this hour, and Ralph and Edith had sauntered 
 out upon the veranda, the lonely girl sat in the 
 dark trying to quiet her nervous fears and look 
 her own situation squarely in the face. But 
 much thinking brought no solution of her prob- 
 lem or checked the dread of the future that 
 possessed her. At last, with a feeling of breath- 
 lessness, she threw open the window and, drop- 
 ping on her knees by it, drew in long breaths 
 of the fragrant night air. The sky was thick
 
 In the Web of Life 217 
 
 with stars, for the moon had not yet risen. It 
 would be nearly eleven before it would be up. 
 Kneeling there Constance remembered Emer- 
 son's familiar lines lines she had often heard 
 her father repeat. 
 
 " 'Teach me your mood, patient stars!' " 
 
 she whispered, then stopped. Patient! Yes, 
 they could afford to be patient, she reflected. 
 Their courses were planned for them; their 
 places were assigned them by the laws of the 
 universe. But she was only a poor atom, she 
 told herself. When the young are wretched, 
 they are very wretched. It takes a long while 
 to learn that the effect of pain on the character 
 is a greater thing than the pain itself and that 
 whet that effect shall be rests with God and the 
 sufferer himself. 
 
 Whom could she trust? this girl demanded 
 of her soul. Of course there were her uncle 
 and her aunt, but they would be governed by 
 their daughter's judgment, so she could no 
 longer count on them. She had no human coun- 
 selor ! 
 
 Then all at once she remembered Tom. He
 
 218 In the Web of Life 
 
 was her friend. Yet she had no right to turn 
 to him at this juncture. What was she to him 
 or he to her? Even as she asked herself this 
 question she was conscious of a sense of com- 
 fort. She did not pause to analyze it. A nor- 
 mal girl is not, as a rule, given to analysis. All 
 this one knew now was that she could never 
 doubt Tom Morton, that he stood for more in 
 her little world than did anyone else. 
 
 Folding her arms on the window sill, she 
 dropped her head upon them, and knelt motion- 
 less. The stars shone on calmly ; the soft wind 
 murmured drowsily in the trees. A clock some- 
 where in the village struck nine. 
 
 Suddenly Constance Medford was startled 
 by a gentle stir on the walk beneath her win- 
 dow. Her room was at the side of tho house 
 where a narrow path ran between two rows of 
 shrubbery. "With a swift sense of fright she 
 peered out into the darkness. 
 
 A man was standing down there in the shad- 
 ows, waiting. 
 
 For whom?
 
 Chapter Fifteen 
 
 The question repeated itself to the motion- 
 less girl crouching by the open window. For 
 whom was that man down there waiting? At 
 first her brain seemed too much dazed to grasp 
 more than that one thought i ' for whom f " If 
 he had come to see any one whom he had a 
 right to ask to see he would not stand there 
 in the shelter of the shrubbery, but would go 
 boldly to the front door. 
 
 Then, with a sigh of relief, Constance remem- 
 bered the servants. This man might be a friend 
 of one of the maids. Yet, if so, why had he 
 not gone at once to the rear door? Mrs. Hale 
 never objected to her maids having decent men 
 call on them. There was a pleasant sitting 
 room in which the girls were allowed to receive 
 their friends. Unless this man were plotting 
 mischief he would not skulk about the house in 
 this way. None of the maids was the kind of 
 girl who would make clandestine appointments. 
 
 This might be a burglar ! The idea brought 
 Constance to her feet and sent her hurrying 
 219
 
 220 In the Web of Life 
 
 across the room to her door. She would have 
 a word alone with her uncle. She had reached 
 the head of the stairs when she heard her 
 cousin's voice at the front door. She was evi- 
 dently coming in perhaps upstairs. 
 
 "I'll be right back, Balph," Edith was say- 
 ing. ' ' I just want to get a shawl from my room. 
 It's getting a little chilly." 
 
 As the light footfall sounded on the stairs 
 Constance stepped back into her own room, 
 closing the door gently behind her. She did not 
 wish to come face to face with Edith just then. 
 
 Those matter-of-fact, familiar voices had had 
 the effect of making her frightened impulse of 
 a moment ago appear foolish now. She would 
 first make certain that the man she had thought 
 she saw was really there on the path. Perhaps 
 her nervousness had excited her imagination. 
 
 Once more she leaned from the window, and, 
 as her eyes became accustomed to the darkness 
 of the garden, she saw that the figure was still 
 there on the path. She had hardly discerned 
 this when she was startled by the sound of a 
 cautious step approaching from the corner of 
 the house. She caught her breath with surprise 
 as Ealph's voice sounded, very low.
 
 In the Web of Life 221 
 
 ' ' Peter ! " he murmured. ' ' Is that you ? ' ' 
 
 ''Yes, sir," came from the waiting figure, 
 as it moved forward to meet the newcomer. 
 
 "I have only a moment, so pay attention to 
 what I have to say," Ealph ordered. "I have 
 an important errand to attend to as soon as pos- 
 sible. Hurry back home, get my car and bring 
 it down to the corner of Homewood Avenue and 
 Cliff Avenue one block down you know that 
 dark corner below there. Understand? And 
 hold your tongue about it ! " 
 
 1 1 Sure ! ' ' the man rejoined. ' * Will you want 
 me to drive you?" 
 
 ' ' No. As soon as I meet you you can go back 
 home. I will not need you again to-night. Now 
 hurry!" 
 
 The two figures parted one gliding out of 
 the side gate to the garden, the other strolling 
 back to the front veranda. When she heard 
 Edith descending to the lower hall Constance 
 went to the head of the stairs and listened. 
 That her action might be construed into eaves- 
 dropping which she detested never occurred 
 to her. She must know what Ealph was going 
 to do, where he was going for a great fear had 
 gripped her heart.
 
 222 In the Web of Life 
 
 She heard Mm greet Edith cheerfully as she 
 went out of the front door. ''Suppose we walk 
 around the garden," he proposed, " before I 
 go home?" 
 
 "Are you going so soon?" Edith asked in 
 surprise, and the man replied that when he had 
 telephoned to his house a while ago he had 
 learned that his mother was not feeling very 
 well and would like to have him come home 
 early. Peter told him this when he talked with 
 him and he really felt that, under the circum- 
 stances 
 
 Constance had heard enough. She returned 
 to her room and closed her door. Then she 
 stood still for a long minute. 
 
 There are times in the life of many a person 
 when, for a brief period, one seems almost 
 clairvoyant, almost able to read the mind of 
 another. This minute, while she stood there, 
 was one of those periods in the life of Constance 
 Medf ord. She knew although she did not un- 
 derstand how she knew that Ealph was going 
 out alone to meet Tom Morton. He had heard, 
 as she had heard, Mr. Hale telephone to Tom, 
 had heard him insist that he must come to-night 
 even if he could not get here before ten o 'clock.
 
 In the Web of Life 223 
 
 Tom's presence at this juncture would mean 
 the overthrow of Ralph's plans, might mean the 
 destruction of that for which he had worked 
 and schemed. If the father told the discarded 
 lover of the charges brought against Constance 
 by Ralph Morton, Tom would tell the truth 
 about Ralph driven to this extreme by right- 
 eous wrath. The thought of Tom's friendship 
 for her had thrilled Constance only a little while 
 ago. Now it terrified her, for she appreciated 
 that if the accusations brought against her by 
 Ralph were repeated to Tom, Ralph would have 
 to bear the penalty of his foul lies. And she 
 also knew that Ralph knew this, feared it and 
 would prevent it. But how? 
 
 The answer seemed to whisper itself suddenly 
 through the silent room : 
 
 "Certainly not by fair means then surely by 
 foul!" 
 
 The frightened girl started as if stung by a 
 lash. 
 
 "Tom! Tom!" she gasped. "I must stop 
 him ! I must warn you ! ' ' 
 
 She touched the button of the electric light, 
 and, as the radiance flashed forth, ran to her 
 closet, took from a hook a long, dark cloak
 
 224 In the Web of Life 
 
 and threw it around her. Snatching a black veil 
 from her bureau drawer she wound this about 
 her head. These actions took but a moment, 
 yet as she glanced at the clock and saw it was 
 a quarter past nine, she shuddered. Then, 
 switching -off the light, she stole noiselessly 
 down the back stairs, out of the side door, and 
 a moment later was running down the street 
 toward the distant road leading from the Fort 
 Lee ferry to Homewood. 
 
 "I must go now, dearest," Ralph said. 
 
 He glanced at his watch in the light gleaming 
 from the open front door. Peter would be 
 awaiting him by the time that he could walk to 
 the place of meeting. He must not linger here 
 a minute longer. 
 
 "I wish you did not have to go so soon," 
 Edith regretted. 
 
 "I wish so, too," he responded. "But, dear, 
 you know that when mother is not so well I 
 feel I ought to set aside my own preferences. ' ' 
 
 "And mine, too?" the girl suggested with a 
 little pout. 
 
 Of course he assured her that were he to fol- 
 low the dictates of his heart he would stay
 
 In the Web of Life 225 
 
 right here. She said, "Oh, that is all right!" 
 and allowed him to kiss her good-night. Yet as 
 the man walked toward the gate he hoped that 
 Edith was not going to prove to be an exacting 
 fiancee, while the girl, going into the house, 
 found herself somewhat piqued that Ralph could 
 leave her so easily even at his mother's bidding. 
 She felt that if he loved her as he should love 
 her he should know no superior claim on his 
 affections and time. 
 
 John Hale looked up in surprise as his daugh- 
 ter entered the library. 
 
 "Where's Ralph!" he asked. 
 
 "Gone home," she informed him. Then as 
 she saw her father's face darken, she hastened 
 to explain her lover's departure. It was one 
 thing for her to resent it and quite another 
 for her parent to do so. "His mother is not 
 well," she said. "When he called up his house 
 a while ago Peter told him his mother was ask- 
 ing for him. Of course, dad, it was his duty to 
 go to her." 
 
 John Hale started to speak, then glanced at 
 his wife and checked himself. But the girl 
 knew he was not satisfied with her explanation. 
 Before she could say anything more there was
 
 226 In the Web of Life 
 
 a sound of someone coming up on the vernada 
 and she turned back to see who it was. 
 
 "May I come in?" asked a cheery voice, and 
 Edward Dayton came into the hall. 
 
 "Indeed you may!" exclaimed Edith, smiling 
 brightly. She remembered in a flash how this 
 man had championed her on the evening of the 
 never-to-be-forgotten engagement dinner, and 
 her heart warmed to him. 
 
 "It is an unconscionably late hour to call, I 
 know," Edward Dayton said as Mr. and Mrs. 
 Hale welcomed him. "But I saw your hos- 
 pitable light shining from all the lower windows 
 as I passed along the street down there, so I 
 was sure you were all downstairs yet and this 
 knowledge tempted me just to run in and see 
 you for a few minutes." 
 
 "I am glad you came," Edith told him frank- 
 ly. "It is too early to go to bed, and I was 
 just wishing I had a pleasant person to talk 
 to." 
 
 Dayton looked at her with a mischievous 
 smile. "I might not have had the temerity to 
 come in," he teased, "if I had not seen Ealph 
 Morton hurrying down toward Cliff Avenue a 
 few moments ago. I knew that as he was not
 
 In the Web of Life 227 
 
 here I would not be poaching upon his pre- 
 serves." 
 
 Edith laughed, then, struck by an uncom- 
 fortable idea, asked quickly, " Where did you 
 say you met him?" 
 
 "Down near Cliff Avenue probably on his 
 way to the village for something he had for- 
 gotten, for he was walking so rapidly that he 
 did not even see me. ' ' 
 
 "Yes," Edith agreed, "he had probably for- 
 gotten something in the village." She glanced 
 at her father and the expression in his eyes did 
 not quiet her feeling of apprehension. "Sup- 
 pose we go out on the veranda for a while," 
 she suggested to Dayton. "You don't mind, do 
 you, mother?" 
 
 "Certainly not, my dear," her mother re- 
 plied. "I'm going to sit here with father and 
 finish my book before I go upstairs." 
 
 Seated on the veranda with a companion who 
 was an attentive listener and a good talker, 
 Edith forgot, for a while, her perplexity with 
 regard to Ealph's destination. Not so her 
 father. When, after twenty minutes ' chat, Ed- 
 ward Dayton bade Edith and her parents good- 
 night and went home, John Hale detained his
 
 228 In the Web of Life 
 
 daughter in the hall for a moment. He spoke 
 reluctantly. 
 
 "I had hoped that Ealph would stay to see 
 Tom," he said. "As he did not, I telephoned 
 to his house just now to tell him to come here 
 as soon as he could leave his mother. He was 
 not at home nor has he been at home since 
 before dinner, his mother's maid said. She 
 also said that her mistress is as well as 
 usual this evening, and that she was not 
 aware that any message had been sent from 
 Mrs. Morton to 'Mr. Ralph.' I warned her 
 not to tell Mrs. Morton of my having tele- 
 phoned, as it might make her anxious about 
 Ralph." 
 
 "But, dad," the girl protested, "I know he 
 meant to go right home and that his mother 
 did send for him, for " 
 
 "Yet," her father interrupted her, "Ned 
 Dayton saw him five minutes after he left here 
 going toward Cliff Avenue. I don't understand 
 it and I confess I don't like it!" 
 
 "What do you mean?" the girl demanded 
 indignantly. "Surely you don't mean to inti- 
 mate that he told me a deliberate lie that
 
 In the Web of Life 229 
 
 She checked herself as her mother came out 
 from the library. 
 
 "I've finished my book and I'm going to 
 bed," announced the matron. "But first I'll 
 stop in Connie's room and see how her head is. 
 I hope she 's asleep. Come to my room and tell 
 me good-night on your way to bed, daughter 
 dear." 
 
 Moved by a presentiment of impending trou- 
 ble, father and daughter stood silent at the foot 
 of the stairs while the elderly woman went up. 
 They heard her enter Constance 's room, softly, 
 heard her low-voiced query, heard her hurry 
 across the room and open the door of her niece's 
 dressing-room, then run across the floor to the 
 head of the stairs. 
 
 ' ' John ! Edith ! " she called excitedly, ' ' where 
 can Constance be? Her room is empty, so is 
 her dressing-room and her bed has not been 
 slept in. Oh my dears where can she be? 
 Where can she be f " 
 
 "Hush!" John Hale exclaimed, running up- 
 stairs to his trembling wife. "The servants 
 will hear you!" 
 
 "But, John," panted the agitated woman, 
 clinging to his arm, "I tell you the child's gone !
 
 230 In the Web of Life 
 
 Oh, Edith," as her daughter reached her side, 
 "I tell you Connie's gone!" 
 
 ' ' Nonsense ! ' ' ejaculated the girl. ' ' Suppose 
 she has gone out? What is there to frighten 
 you in that?" 
 
 She spoke as if she, too, were not startled, 
 but secretly she was disturbed and puzzled. 
 Her father had grown suddenly pale, yet his re- 
 assuring words gave no hint of his trepidation. 
 
 " Martha," he urged, "it is possible that Con- 
 stance may have gone out for a stroll in the 
 garden in the hope that the fresh air would ease 
 the pain in her head. ' ' 
 
 "But it is not like her to do that," his wife 
 insisted. "And I am so frightened lest her 
 head may have been so bad that it affected her 
 mind, and that she may have wandered off " 
 
 "Ridiculous!" her husband declared. His 
 stern, yet calm manner produced the effect he 
 desired upon his wife. "It would be foolish," 
 he continued, ' ' to let the servants know you are 
 worried. They would fancy all sorts of things, 
 even" with a sorry attempt at a laugh "an 
 elopement. ' ' 
 
 Mrs. Hale tried to laugh, too, but only suc- 
 ceeded in perpetrating a sound between a sob
 
 In the Web of Life 231 
 
 and a giggle. "Well, I couldn't help being 
 scared, John," she said, "and I can't deny that 
 I am still anxious." 
 
 "Edith," commanded Mr. Hale, as he led his 
 wife into her own room, "you stay with mother 
 while I go into the garden and see if Constance 
 is there?" 
 
 Five minutes later he returned, his face paler 
 than before. "No," he reported, "I did not 
 find her. Now, Martha, keep calm and listen to 
 reason. "Wherever Constance is she went there 
 of her own accord. She is no baby or little girl, 
 but a grown woman twenty-three years of age. 
 
 ' ' I shall, of course, try to ascertain where she 
 is, for she is your niece and an inmate of my 
 house. But I am not frightened about her 
 physical welfare, although I am angry with her 
 for doing such an improper and injudicious 
 thing as leaving the house alone at this hour of 
 the night." 
 
 "She probably did it to punish us," Edith 
 suggested in a low voice. 
 
 "What's that?" Mrs. Hale demanded. "To 
 punish you ? What f or ? " 
 
 "There is not time to talk about it now, my 
 clear," said her husband. "All I can explain
 
 232 In the Web of Life 
 
 to you at present is that I reproved Constance 
 this afternoon for something she did, and she 
 was angry about the matter. ' ' 
 
 " Angry! Constance!" exclaimed Constance's 
 aunt incredulously. "Well, if so, it was be- 
 cause she was not well and not like herself. ' ' 
 
 "Perhaps," assented Mr. Hale skeptically. 
 The aspersions cast upon Constance by Ealph 
 Morton seemed terribly near the truth when 
 viewed in the light of to-night's occurrences. 
 
 "Why not telephone to Ealph to help you 
 search for her?" suggested Mrs. Hale. 
 
 "Ealph isn't at home, I think," Mr. Hale be- 
 gan, then stopped and looked at Edith. The 
 same thought had occurred to father and daugh- 
 ter. Ealph had gone on some mysterious er- 
 rand, one which he had tried to conceal from 
 them. Constance had gone somewhere secretly. 
 Was there any connection between these two 
 circumstances ? 
 
 "Now, mother," the husband said, soothingly, 
 "you try to keep quiet you and Edith and 
 don't talk about this matter until I get back." 
 
 "But where are you going?" asked the wife 
 tremulously. 
 
 "To the garage first, to tell Eobert to get out
 
 In the Web of Life 233 
 
 the automobile. I shall have him drive me to the 
 station and to the well, to several places. Con- 
 stance may have decided to go to New York, 
 you know. I won't be gone long." 
 
 Edith followed him into the hall. "Dad!" 
 she pleaded in a low voice, "mayn't I go, too, 
 please ! ' ' 
 
 1 ' No ! " he replied with decision. ' * Your place 
 is here with your mother. ' ' 
 
 "But, father" her manner becoming less 
 cajoling, "surely I have a right to know what 
 you suspect what you fear. Remember, 
 please, father, that since you are thinking things 
 about Ealph, I have a right to know at least 
 something of what is in your mind." 
 
 "I don't know what I suspect or fear, as 
 you phrase it," he retorted brusquely. Yet as 
 he reached the head of the stairs, he turned 
 again to his daughter. "I confess, my dear," 
 he said with bitter emphasis, "that I cannot 
 help remembering some of the insinuations you 
 and Ealph made this afternoon I wish to God 
 I had never heard them ! ' ' 
 
 Before the surprised girl could gather cour- 
 age to ask another question, he was gone. A 
 minute later, standing at the window in the back
 
 234 I" the Web of Life 
 
 hall, Edith heard him summon Eobert, the 
 chauffeur, from his room over the garage. 
 
 When she had returned to her mother and 
 was trying to talk with her of any matter except 
 the one that occupied the minds of both women, 
 the crunching of gravel on the driveway and the 
 purring of an automobile engine notified the 
 listeners that the master of the house and his 
 man had gone in search of their missing rela- 
 tive. 
 
 "Why not go to bed now, mother?" Edith 
 suggested gently after a while. 
 
 But the matron insisted that she was too 
 nervous to lie down. 
 
 "I will, however, put on a wrapper and rest 
 here on the lounge until father comes back," she 
 said. "And you can sit here and talk to me." 
 
 Conversation languished, as it always does 
 when it is forced and not spontaneous. The 
 daughter saw that her mother was paying scant 
 attention to the desultory remarks made to her, 
 and that every nerve was strained for any 
 sound that might indicate the return of the 
 missing girl or of John Hale himself. The 
 clock on the mantel ticked away more loudly 
 than ever, yet the hands moved with madden-
 
 In the Web of Life 235 
 
 ing slowness. Edith felt that if her mother 
 would only talk she could stand the suspense 
 better. 
 
 Yet when at last, by asking questions about 
 people and events connected with the elderly 
 woman's girlhood, she led her on to talk of old 
 times, the impatient girl felt as if the mono- 
 logue would never end and that if there was 
 anything worse than the periods of silence 
 which she had tried to end it was this long 
 story which her mother was telling. If some- 
 thing did not happen soon, Edith Hale told her- 
 self, she would go mad!
 
 Chapter Sixteen 
 
 Although John Hale was a kind and consid- 
 erate employer he was not in the habit of con- 
 versing freely with his employees. So Eobert 
 was not surprised when he said little about his 
 errand as they drove out of the gates of the 
 Hale estate. 
 
 "The railroad station first," Mr. Hale or- 
 dered. 
 
 He did not linger long in the station. Walk- 
 ing through the waiting-room, he glanced at 
 the few persons seated there, learned that the 
 train to New York was due now, waited until 
 it had rolled into the station and steamed out, 
 then returned to his car. 
 
 "I think," he told the chauffeur, "that it 
 would be well for you to drive down to the 
 ferry. ' ' 
 
 "The ferry, sir!" exclaimed Eobert, aston- 
 ished. 
 
 "That's what I said," replied the master, 
 tersely. Then, more kindly : * ' There 's a friend 
 who may be going to New York by the Fort 
 
 236
 
 In the Web of Life 237 
 
 Lee ferry and whom I wish to speak to. I want 
 to look at the trolleys from Homewood as they 
 discharge their passengers." 
 
 1 'Yes, sir," returned the man, respectfully. 
 
 Yet the automobile had not gone a half mile 
 before a new idea seized the owner. If Con- 
 stance wanted to elude them all, she would 
 hardly have taken a trolley car through a town 
 where she would be recognized. The foolish 
 girl would have chosen some other method of 
 getting away. Yet she would not have hired a 
 conveyance if she wished to avoid awakening 
 the curiosity of the suburbanites. Would she 
 attempt to walk all that distance to the ferry? 
 Never ! "Why should he fancy that she was go- 
 ing to New York? Perhaps she had only meant 
 to meet ftalph somewhere had planned to talk 
 her rage out to him. 
 
 Yet that did not seem likely unless her in- 
 dignation against her cousin's betrothed had 
 moved her to make an appointment with him 
 or to offer some inducement to him to withdraw 
 his charges against her. Had she sent any mes- 
 sage to Ealph this evening, and was this what 
 had made him alter his plans? If so, was not 
 this a virtual admission that his accusations
 
 238 In the Web of Life 
 
 against her were at least partially true? Ed- 
 ward Dayton had seen him walking toward the 
 village. Had Ealph then agreed to meet Con- 
 stance on some sheltered street on the outskirts 
 of the town? It was like looking for a needle 
 in a haystack. 
 
 "Wait!" John Hale exclaimed suddenly. 
 "Drive slowly down Homewood Avenue. Per- 
 haps my friend decided to walk a part of the 
 way to the ferry. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, sir," said the man, retarding his speed. 
 "I'll drive slowly, sir." 
 
 "And I will watch," John Hale remarked, 
 then lapsed again into silence. 
 
 Ealph Morton reached the corner of Home- 
 wood and Cliff Avenues several moments 
 before Peter drove up, a circumstance 
 that tempted the master to blend profanity 
 with the remarks with which he greeted his 
 servant. 
 
 "Get out!" Ralph ordered, adding, as the 
 man sprang out of the car, and he himself took 
 
 his seat in it, "Where in have you been all 
 
 this time?" 
 
 "The right front tire went flat," Peter re-
 
 In the Web of Life 239 
 
 plied sulkily, "and I had to pump her up. I 
 guess there's a leaky valve there." 
 
 An exclamation more forcible than elegant 
 was called forth by this bit of information. It 
 was followed by the statement that, leak or no 
 leak, the tire would have to last out the present 
 expedition. 
 
 "If not, I'll ride on the rim sooner than stop 
 to-night,'* the master declared angrily. "It 
 does seem that since you're paid to do your 
 work you might once in a while take the time 
 to keep this machine in good order. If the tire 
 leaks, it's your fault. Shut up!" as the man 
 started to protest. "Your excuses don't go 
 down here ! Do your work better or leave ! ' ' 
 
 It may be observed in passing that Ralph 
 Morton knew he was quite safe in speaking thus 
 to his man. Peter had a sickly wife and four 
 young children dependent upon him. Moreover, 
 he was not a skilled mechanician, nor an expert 
 gardener. Had he been a younger and more 
 competent man, with no family to provide for, 
 Ralph would have found it quite possible to 
 curb his tongue and suppress his angry out- 
 burst unless he was willing to look for another 
 servant. Besides all this, Ralph's mother not
 
 240 In the Web of Life 
 
 Ralph paid this man's wages. But that, of 
 course, the man did not know. 
 
 There is a type of person who is never afraid 
 to threaten the employee who dares not leave 
 lest he or those near and dear to him may 
 starve. 
 
 When, with a roar of the engine and a whirr- 
 ing of the wheels, the owner of the car drove off, 
 Peter stood looking after him, and, as the red 
 tail-light disappeared at the corner of the av- 
 enue, he shook his head. 
 
 "He sure has got the temper of the devil, and 
 he drives like him, too," he muttered, "and it 
 seems to me as if it was one of the devil's own 
 errands he's on to-night. I don't like the looks 
 of it, I'll be darned if I do ! However, it ain't 
 none of my business ! So long as I get my pay 
 from him I've got to keep my mouth shut!" 
 
 After which sage observation he sighed and 
 turned his steps toward home. 
 
 In spite of his haste, Ealph Morton stopped 
 once on his way through the village of Home- 
 wood. He got out of his car and went into a 
 hardware shop. The proprietor was just put- 
 ting up his shutters, but ceased his task as he 
 saw a chance customer enter. Mr. Morton's
 
 In the Web of Life 241 
 
 manner moved the salesman to wait on him with 
 alacrity. He evidently knew just what he 
 wanted, and wanted it in a hurry. 
 
 When Ralph emerged from the shop he car- 
 ried in his hand a long, slender object, which 
 he deposited as well as he could in the bottom 
 of the car. Although he bent it almost double, 
 it still protruded at one side. As he drove off 
 the proprietor stood, as Peter had done, and 
 looked after the car and its occupant, muttering. 
 
 "What in thunder does he want with a horse- 
 whip in an automobile I " he wondered. 
 
 At the same time Ealph, glancing down at the 
 tasseled end of his recent purchase, murmured : 
 
 "I may not need it but if other things fail 
 I'll use it!" 
 
 The hypocrite or the liar is likely to prove 
 himself a coward when forced to contemplate 
 the probability of being faced by the evidences 
 of his wrongdoing or deceit. Ealph Morton 
 would have declared himself to be a brave man. 
 Certainly he had not hesitated to run great 
 risks to advance his own interests. But to dare 
 and to be brave are not one and the same 
 thing. 
 
 As he drove to-night, alone with his thoughts,
 
 242 In the Web of Life 
 
 he suddenly found himself afraid, horribly 
 afraid, of the exposures that his cousin might 
 make. Desperation, the unreasoning fear of an 
 almost trapped animal, possessed him, as, hold- 
 ing the steering wheel tightly, he watched the 
 yellow road slip toward him in the glare of his 
 headlights. One thought alone he clung to with 
 hope. He must keep Tom Morton from going 
 to the Hale home. 
 
 How to do this he did not know, but he was 
 determined to use every effort in his power to 
 check his cousin. He would persuade, command, 
 intimidate yet he knew now, as he had known 
 every minute of the evening, that none of these 
 things would change Tom in his course. Well, 
 then, he would maim him even, if necessary, 
 kill him. There was a wild, menacing glitter in 
 his eyes as plan after plan surged through his 
 mind and broke into the froth of impractica- 
 bility. 
 
 Suddenly he threw on his brakes and brought 
 his car to a stop. He was well outside the 
 town now. The white pathway cut into the 
 darkness by the acetylene lamps shone along 
 the road leading to the New York ferry. Tom- 
 must come this way. He would wait for him
 
 In the Web of Life 243 
 
 here. With fingers that trembled, Ealph lit a 
 cigarette, then stepped down into the road. In 
 his hand he held the slender whip he had bought 
 a few minutes ago. 
 
 Fortune had favored him lately, he reminded 
 himself, to calm his nerves. Of course she 
 would help him in this crisis. If not he set 
 his lips in a hard line to prevent their twitch- 
 ing he would help himself. The tip of his 
 cigarette glowed hotly in the darkness as he 
 drew in a quick breath and looked about him 
 calculatingly. 
 
 A little ahead of him the road curved sharply ; 
 behind him was another turn where it crossed a 
 narrow bridge. He knew that he could recog- 
 nize Tom's low, red speed-car as soon as it 
 should shoot around the corner into the glare 
 of his own lights. He seated himself on the 
 running board of his machine and waited, whip 
 in hand. Tom Morton always drove fast. He 
 would surely hurry this evening. 
 
 The brook gurgled and chuckled loudly be- 
 neath the bridge. To the left, above the trees, 
 the searchlight of a Hudson River boat swept 
 across the sky. The night was very still. All 
 at once, far away to the south, a low drone
 
 244 I the Web of Life 
 
 caused a rift in the silence. The man looked 
 at his watch, then slunk back into the darkness 
 behind his car. The drone grew into a hum, 
 the hum into the approaching roar of a speed- 
 ing car. A growing beam of light shone around 
 the curve on the trees at the side of the road. 
 The man crouching in the darkness grasped his 
 whip more tightly. 
 
 A car swung into the glare of his headlights 
 a low roadster with a single occupant; a 
 warning scream sounded from its horn as it 
 rushed forward, cut-out open, roaring like a 
 machine gun. 
 
 As it flashed past, a figure sprang out from 
 behind the waiting automobile. For the frac- 
 tion of a second the light shone full upon him, 
 photographing for an instant the upraised arm. 
 The sudden, sharp hiss of a lash cut the air, and 
 the man in the car cried out hoarsely. His 
 voice was drowned in the ear-splitting crash as 
 his car, swerving to one side, burst through the 
 guard-rail of the little bridge. There was the 
 splash of water, the groan of tortured metal, 
 then silence. 
 
 Ealph Morton stood motionless in the middle 
 of the road, listening with every nerve taut.
 
 In the Web of Life 245 
 
 Then, twisting the whip double, he thrust it 
 into his automobile, and, starting his engine, 
 sprang into the driver's seat and sped down the 
 road like a hunted creature whose one idea was 
 flight. 
 
 Edith Hale sat tense and silent by her 
 mother 's side. Her hands were clasped tightly, 
 and she gave seemingly respectful heed to the 
 reminiscences with which the elder woman was 
 trying to while away the time for herself and 
 her child. Certainly the repetition of these 
 of t- told incidents of a bygone day had the effect 
 of taking the narrator's mind from the near-at- 
 hand troubles and perplexities. 
 
 Hearing them did not have as happy results 
 for the anxious girl. Not only had she heard 
 them all before many times, but the most inter- 
 esting story would not have held her attention 
 under existing circumstances. Her thoughts 
 were flying wildly from her lover to her father, 
 stopping occasionally to touch the orphaned 
 girl who had gone away so suddenly and so 
 ungratefully. 
 
 The sound of a motor car on the driveway 
 brought Edith to her feet.
 
 246 In the Web of Life 
 
 "That's father now!" she exclaimed. "I 
 must see him!" 
 
 Before her mother could check her she had 
 run downstairs and out upon the veranda. 
 
 It was not the car of the master of the 
 house that drew up at the front steps, as a 
 voice that she scarcely recognized called to 
 her: 
 
 "Is that you, Edith?" 
 
 "Yes, Ealph!" she answered tremulously. 
 "Is anything the matter?" 
 
 "Nothing," he rejoined, stepping from his 
 car to meet her as she came down the steps. 
 But he drew her to one side so that the light 
 from the hall did not shine on his face. "I 
 merely thought that perhaps it would be as 
 well for me to be here when Tom came. Is 
 he here yet?" 
 
 "No," the girl told him, "he hasn't come 
 and oh, Ealph ! Constance has gone ! ' ' 
 
 * ' Gone ! ' ' the other repeated blankly. 
 
 "Yes," Edith quavered, "gone run away, 
 perhaps. Father is out in his car now looking 
 for her. Oh, Ealph it is terrible! Suppose 
 people learn of it! Think of the talk it will 
 make!"
 
 In the Web of Life 247 
 
 "But where has she gone?" he insisted. 
 "Didn't she leave any word any message?" 
 
 " No ! " Edith replied. Then, her self-control 
 snapping under the strain put upon it for the 
 past hour, she dropped her head upon her lov- 
 er 's shoulder and burst into sobs. 
 
 Although Ealph put his arm around her and 
 kissed her, the action was mechanical, for his 
 mind was working swiftly. He was suddenly 
 himself again. 
 
 "Perhaps," he said at last, in a steady voice, 
 "that is why Tom Morton has not come."
 
 Chapter Seventeen 
 
 Constance Medford stood irresolute at the 
 corner of the street on which the Hale home 
 was situated. To her left the New York road 
 stretched through the blue gloom of the starlit 
 night. Below, at the foot of the hill to the right, 
 the lights of the village glowed. The tall elms, 
 arched overhead, cast deep shadows over and 
 above her. "With a woman's impulsive accept- 
 ance of an unproved idea as a fact, she had 
 rushed from the house to meet and warn Tom 
 Morton. Feminine intuition had brought her 
 out here and had now as abruptly deserted 
 her. 
 
 She stood hesitating in an agony of inde- 
 cision. How was she to find Tom ? What would 
 she tell him if she did find him? What real 
 cause had she for suspecting Ralph? These 
 questions assailed her and she could answer 
 none of them. She began to have a childishly 
 guilty feeling. What would her uncle and aunt 
 say if they knew she had gone out alone into 
 the street? Perhaps they had already discov- 
 248
 
 In the Web of Life 249 
 
 ered her flight and were even now searching for 
 her. 
 
 She glanced back at the house apprehensively 
 and congratulated herself that her dark cloak 
 and veil made her seem one with the tree shad- 
 ows. She shivered and drew her wrap more 
 closely around her. The night was cool and 
 she seemed to have been standing here for a 
 long time. What a fool 's errand she had come 
 on! With a movement of determination she 
 started a few steps toward the house she had 
 just left, then drew back as quickly into the 
 shadows and stood still on the alert. 
 
 Footsteps had sounded on the pavement 
 across the street. A man was strolling slowly 
 up the hill. As he passed under a street lamp, 
 she recognized him as the village policeman. 
 Far down the New York road she heard the reg- 
 ular beat of a horse's hoofs. The man across 
 the street had heard the sound too, and, 
 stopping on the corner opposite Constance, 
 waited. 
 
 A buggy turned into Homewood Avenue, and 
 as the lantern swinging from the dashboard 
 shone upon the policeman the driver reined in 
 his horse.
 
 250 In the Web of Life 
 
 ' ' Hello, Hen ! " lie called, facetiously. * * What 
 yer doin'? Huntin' burglars?" 
 
 ''Hello, Ed!" the other returned, sedately. 
 "Fine night, ain't it!" 
 
 "It's all of that," the man in the buggy 
 agreed. "Had a smash-up down the road, I 
 see." 
 
 ' ' Hadn 't heard of it, ' ' replied the policeman. 
 "Ottermobile?" 
 
 "Yeah. Must of skidded, I guess. Bust 
 clean through the rail of the Stony Brook 
 bridge and lit in the stream bed. Ain't nobody 
 there now. I hollered, but nobody didn't an- 
 swer. I guess they've walked back to the ferry. 
 They left their tail-light burning, so there ain't 
 no danger." 
 
 "More than most of them do," remarked the 
 other. "Durn fools! Well, good-night, Ed! 
 Be good!" 
 
 "So long, Hen!" 
 
 The buggy rattled down the street. The po- 
 liceman yawned widely and strolled back down 
 the hill. Had he turned his head he might have 
 been amazed by the sight of a slight figure, 
 wrapped in a dark cloak, running swiftly down 
 the road toward New York.
 
 In the Web of Life 251 
 
 The terror that Constance had felt earlier in 
 the evening had seized her again as she over- 
 heard the conversation between the two men. 
 The unreasoning instinct that had driven her 
 from the house sent her, panic-stricken, down 
 the New York road to the Stony Brook bridge. 
 She ran until every breath was a pain, then 
 walked until she could once more breathe deep- 
 ly, when she broke again into a run. 
 
 Unused to being abroad at night unattended, 
 she forgot the nameless dangers which women 
 and children fear when alone in the darkness 
 and silence of out of doors. Once a car sped 
 toward her and she shrank back in the deep 
 shade of the roadside until the runabout had 
 passed. With her subconscious mind she 
 thought the figure in the car was familiar, but, 
 possessed as she was by one idea, she forgot 
 it as soon as it had passed. 
 
 By a strange psychosis which some masculine 
 minds cannot understand, Constance Medford 
 was convinced that it was Tom Morton's auto- 
 mobile which lay, overturned, beneath the shat- 
 tered bridge rail; moreover that Tom Morton 
 lay beside it, senseless, perhaps dead. Her head 
 swam and her feet stumbled, yet she kept right
 
 252 In the Web of Life 
 
 on, her breath coming in heavy sob-like gasps. 
 She was careless now of what her uncle and 
 his family might think or do, of what Tom might 
 think could he know all she was suffering for 
 him. She only knew that she loved this man ; 
 that she was not ashamed to admit this to her- 
 self, and that he was in danger, perhaps beyond 
 all help ! Her feet began to drag and catch on 
 the stones of the road. From the village behind 
 her a clock struck ten. Once more she rallied 
 her tired body and broke into a run. 
 
 Mr. Hale was a man who did not often waver 
 in a decision, yet he wavered to-night. And 'as 
 he was a man he was not supposed to yield to 
 the proverbial feminine weakness of changing 
 his mind: Yet to-night he did even this. As 
 his chauffeur drove, at his bidding, towards the 
 ferry, John Hale abruptly countermanded his 
 orders of a moment before. What a fool he had 
 been, he mused, not to have questioned the sta- 
 tion agent about Constance, instead of driving 
 along the public road in this way in search of 
 her. Moreover, while this was the main car- 
 riage and automobile thoroughfare to the ferry, 
 the girl might have chosen a short cut if she had
 
 In the Web of Life 253 
 
 decided to take a boat to the city. Yet why 
 should she do this when she could have gone so 
 much more quickly by train? If she had be- 
 haved in such an ungrateful and wrong way she 
 deserved to be talked about. Anxiety was tell- 
 ing on John Hale's temper, and he spoke 
 harshly. 
 
 * * Turn around ! " he ordered. ' ' Drive back to 
 the station. I will question the agent about the 
 person I am looking for. ' ' 
 
 "No," the agent told him five minutes later, 
 "I haven't seen anybody from your house come 
 in here this evening." 
 
 "A pretty mess!" John Hale grumbled as 
 he climbed back into his car. "I may as well 
 tell you, Eobert, that Miss Medford has started 
 for town, and I want to stop her. Ask me no 
 questions," as the man looked at him in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 ''No, sir, I won't," said the chauffeur, sup- 
 pressing any evidence of the curiosity he felt. 
 As he was driving the car slowly toward the 
 Hale home, having received no further orders 
 from his master, he offered a respectful, almost 
 apologetic suggestion. "Excuse me, sir," he
 
 254 I H the Web of Life 
 
 said, "but there's Hen Mickens coming along. 
 Perhaps he's seen her." 
 
 "Stop then!" commanded Mr. Hale. But to 
 his guarded question as to whether the police- 
 man had seen ' ' anyone from his house pass re- 
 cently, ' ' Mickens replied in the negative. 
 
 "But," added the official, rejoicing like all 
 of his type in the opportunity to impart infor- 
 mation, "if any of your folks was ottermobil- 
 ing perhaps you'd be interested in seem' the 
 wreck down by Stony Brook bridge. " 
 
 Yet, when he had told all he had heard about 
 the wreck, Mr. Hale seemed to ignore his pres- 
 ence, for, turning abruptly to his chauffeur, he 
 issued a brief order. 
 
 "Drive down the road to New York!" he 
 said quickly and with a decision that left no 
 chance for questioning. 
 
 John Hale's automobile throbbed its way 
 along the New York road. The owner sat in 
 the tonneau, besieged by a host of unpleasant 
 imaginings and gloomy conjectures. He was 
 tormented by thoughts of Constance 's indiscre- 
 tion and ingratitude, of his daughter's future, 
 of the gossiping proclivities of his neighbors, 
 of the absurdity of his decision to take this
 
 In the Web of Life 255 
 
 route. He was ashamed already of the sharp 
 stab of fear that had moved him to tell his 
 chauffeur to drive to the Stony Brook bridge. 
 Just because the village policeman had spoken 
 of an automobile accident he, John Hale, sup- 
 posed to be a sane, clear-headed individual, had 
 rushed off on another wild goose chase! 
 
 With a movement of impatience at his own 
 vacillation, he leaned forward to speak to his 
 chauffeur, then uttered a sudden ejaculation 
 of warning and lurched heavily to one side of 
 the seat as Eobert threw on the brakes and 
 brought the car to a sliding standstill. Just 
 ahead, the slim form of a woman stood erect 
 in the glare of the lights. The brilliancy hid 
 from her sight the faces of the occupants of 
 the car, but she hurried forward, and spoke to 
 them before she saw them. 
 
 ''If you please," she gasped, "come and help 
 me ! There's a man here who has been terribly 
 hurt. You must carry him to a doctor at once. 
 Hurry, please!" 
 
 "Constance!" John Hale exclaimed as he 
 recognized the speaker. "What are you doing 
 here?" 
 
 Suspicion and anger mingled with astonish-
 
 256 In the Web of Life 
 
 ment in his tones, but the girl took no heed of 
 them. Her fear and agitation were too great 
 for her to notice her uncle 's manner or to won- 
 der at his presence. 
 
 "Oh, I'm glad it is you," she said. "I've 
 been trying to lift Tom, but I can't. He's had 
 an accident, and is badly hurt. Uncle, I'm 
 afraid " 
 
 But her uncle interrupted her angrily. 
 Ealph's insinuations returned to him again, and 
 he spoke harshly. "And you," he said, "what 
 are you doing here ? How dare you leave us as 
 you did ! Your poor aunt is 
 
 The girl threw out her arm to check him. 
 There was a strange abandonment in the ges- 
 ture. 
 
 "For God's sake," she burst forth, "don't 
 stop to talk! Tom may be dying, I tell you 
 dying ! "What do I matter what does anything 
 else matter now ! Only help him. Eobert ! ' ' she 
 turned to the chauffeur almost passionately as 
 she saw her uncle hesitate. "Eobert, come and 
 help me get him into the car ! We may be kill- 
 ing him by standing here talking!" 
 
 Without a glance at his employer the chauf- 
 feur leaped from his seat and ran 'with the girl
 
 In the Web of Life 257 
 
 down into the gully from which the red tail- 
 light of a car glared balefully. Clambering 
 down after the pair, Mr. Hale heard the splash- 
 ing of water and the short, difficult breathing 
 of one struggling with a heavy weight. Yet he 
 was too dazed to offer to help the man when, a 
 minute later, he staggered into the stream of 
 white light that flowed from the lamps, drag- 
 ging, rather than lifting, a dark, limp form. 
 
 ' ' Good Lord ! ' ' Mr. Hale groaned as he caught 
 sight of the ghastly face, spattered and streaked 
 with blood. 
 
 * ' Give me a hand here, please sir ! " the chauf- 
 feur ordered. 
 
 Without a word the master helped his em- 
 ployee as, directed by Constance, he lifted the 
 senseless weight into the car. 
 
 "Put him in the tonneau, Kobert," Constance 
 commanded. "Careful! There put his head 
 on this cushion. That's right! Uncle, you sit 
 in front, please. I'll sit here and hold him. 
 Drive to Dr. Sheffield's, Eobert, as fast as you 
 can." 
 
 And this was the creature who, nervous and 
 shaken, had faced him in his library but a few 
 short hours ago! What mighty emotion had
 
 258 In the Web of Life 
 
 worked this change in her? Once during the 
 drive back to Homewood Avenue the elderly 
 man turned to speak to his niece, but the dim 
 impression that he received of the slender girl 
 clinging to the limp figure that swayed and 
 jerked with the motion of the car silenced him. 
 A feeling of wondering compassion was con- 
 quering him in spite of his puzzled disapproval 
 of his niece's actions. 
 
 Yet he spoke gruffly when the car stopped at 
 Dr. Sheffield's house. 
 
 "Here, Constance," he said, "Bobert and I 
 will lift Tom. Go on ahead and see if the doctor 
 is in." 
 
 When the wounded man had been carried 
 into the physician's inner office, and Constance 
 and her uncle in the waiting-room were listen- 
 ing to the muffled sounds on the other side of 
 the closed folding doors, John Hale again 
 asked a question. 
 
 "Constance," he ventured, "will you try to 
 tell me what this means ? ' ' 
 
 His niece sat opposite him, pale and immo- 
 bile. She did not turn her head when he spoke, 
 but watched the closed doors with fixed intent-
 
 In the Web of Life 259 
 
 ness. When she answered her voice was mo- 
 notonous and low. 
 
 "Please don't talk to me now, uncle," she 
 said. "I can't argue or explain yet. If I try 
 to I I can't stand it 
 
 She shuddered and her voice broke. Yet a 
 moment later she had regained her self-control 
 and once more watched silently the closed doors. 
 
 After what seemed an interminable period 
 the physician entered the room. 
 
 "The patient is very badly hurt," he an- 
 nounced gravely, in response to the question in 
 the eyes of uncle and niece. "Just how badly 
 I do not know certainly yet. A collar-bone is 
 broken, there is a bad scalp wound and a slight 
 concussion. Whether he is injured internally 
 or not I cannot say until I have had a consulta- 
 tion. There is also a heavy welt right across 
 the bridge of the nose, just below the eyes. I 
 don't understand how he got that. His face 
 may have struck the windshield when the car 
 was ditched, but that would have left a bruise 
 at least I should think so and not a mark like 
 this. 
 
 ' ' One would acutally think he had been lashed 
 straight across the face with a whip. But of
 
 260 In the Web of Life 
 
 course that is not possible. Still, the fact 
 remains that the mark is a welt not a 
 bruise. I confess that I do not understand 
 it!" 
 
 Looking back later, Constance Medford had 
 some difficulty in recalling the occurrences of 
 that dreadful evening on which Tom Morton 
 was injured. She remembered how she had 
 fled from her uncle's house down the long road 
 to Stony Brook, how she had peered into the 
 brook from the broken bridge and, at first, had 
 seen nothing but the overturned car. She had 
 thought for a moment that the man who had 
 told of the accident had been right when he 
 said that the owner of the wrecked automobile 
 had gone back to town. Yet, as she gazed more 
 deeply into the darkness below her, she dis- 
 cerned a shape huddled against the under side 
 of the car, and, without a moment's hesitation, 
 climbed down the muddy bank and groped about 
 in the weeds and water to ascertain what this 
 shape was. 
 
 Evidently the car, in its plunge through the 
 railing, had thrown the driver from the seat. 
 He had struck his head against some sharp 
 stones and, while his body had been partly sub-
 
 In the Web of Life 261 
 
 merged in the stream, these same rocks had held 
 his head above the water. 
 
 She could also recall how she had tried to 
 move the body, then how, hearing a car coming, 
 she had clambered back up the bank and into 
 the road with the one idea of stopping the 
 driver even if she must stand directly in his 
 path to do so. 
 
 Yet, hazy as some of her after recollections 
 were, her manner was calm and self-possessed 
 through the following scenes of the evening. 
 It was decided that Tom should be taken at 
 once to the Homewood Hospital, where a con- 
 sultation would be held. John Hale had sug- 
 gested that the patient might be brought to his 
 home, but Dr. Sheffield vetoed this plan. 
 
 "He will be better off in the hospital," the 
 physician declared. "I have telephoned to 
 have everything in readiness for him there. 
 The ambulance will come for him in a few min- 
 utes. I would advise" with a glance at Con- 
 stance "that you take this young lady home 
 now. Neither you nor she can do any good by 
 remaining here longer. I will telephone to you 
 later the result of the consultation." 
 
 Constance Medford offered no demur. Tom
 
 262 In the Web of Life 
 
 was in safe hands all she could do now was to 
 wait. That was, she thought dully, a part of 
 a woman's work in the world to do all that 
 she could, then step aside and let those more 
 able than she take her place while she awaited 
 the result of the work which she had begun, but 
 from which she was now excluded. 
 
 She sat silent while her uncle telephoned 
 Edith that he had met Constance and would 
 bring her home with him. She also heard him 
 order his daughter to ask no questions, but 
 to tell her mother that everything was all right, 
 then go to bed. 
 
 "I think perhaps you would prefer seeing 
 nobody to-night," he explained briefly, as he 
 returned to Constance. ' 'I will have a talk with 
 you in the morning. Now your best plan would 
 be to come home and try to sleep. Your feet 
 and clothes are damp and muddy, and you 
 should change your wet things for dry ones as 
 soon as possible. I do not understand this 
 evening's happenings, but you may be able 
 to explain some of them to me in the morn- 
 ing." 
 
 The girl said nothing until her uncle had as- 
 sisted her from the car at his own house. Then,
 
 In the Web of Life 263 
 
 as lie started to open the door, she looked up 
 at him pleadingly. 
 
 "Surely," she asked, "you will let me know 
 what you hear from the hospital before I go 
 to bed?" 
 
 "Yes, yes," her uncle replied hastily. "I 
 will come to your door and tell you as soon as 
 I learn anything new." 
 
 "Thank you," she said. Then she laid her 
 hand on his arm. "Uncle," she faltered, her 
 deep gray eyes looking up into his grave 
 face, "I am sorry to have given you all this 
 trouble." 
 
 The chauffeur had driven around to the 
 garage and the pair stood facing each other. 
 One of the servants had extinguished the 
 lights in the front hall, supposing that all the 
 family were upstairs. A touch of the electric 
 button would have flooded the vestibule with 
 light, but the master of the house did not touch 
 it. The moon had risen within the past hour, 
 and was now shining above the treetops on the 
 eastern side of the broad lawn. Its radiance 
 lighted up the pale face of the slender girl, and 
 as her companion looked down at her his eyes 
 softened.
 
 264 In the Web of Life 
 
 11 Constance, " he said, "poor child don't 
 thank me only tell me the truth!" 
 
 She caught her breath sharply. "I have 
 always tried to do that, uncle," she mur- 
 mured. 
 
 "Then," he urged, laying a hand on her 
 shoulder, "tell me if you were trying to run 
 away from my home to-night and from us who 
 have loved you. ' ' 
 
 " Oh, no ! " she protested. " I had no thought 
 of running away why how could I?" 
 
 John Hale drew a long sigh of relief ; then a 
 painful suspicion presented itself once more, 
 as it had done earlier in the evening. 
 
 "Forgive me," he said brusquely, "if I ask 
 you another question. Did you know that Tom 
 was coming out here to-night?" 
 
 "Yes," she replied. He waited for her to 
 say more but as she remained silent he put to 
 her another question the one that was burn- 
 ing to be asked, and yet from which his soul 
 recoiled. 
 
 "Can you," he began; then stopped. "Oh, 
 my dear," he burst forth with a gesture of ex- 
 asperation; "I hate to ask it, but I want you 
 to say that you did not steal out of the house
 
 In the Web of Life 265 
 
 to-night with the thought in mind of I mean 
 that you did not go out to meet Tom!" 
 
 There was a moment of intense stillness. 
 The girl still gazed into the keen eyes above 
 her. When she spoke all hope had died from 
 her voice. 
 
 "I cannot say that, uncle," she replied. 
 ' ' For it would be a lie, and you have asked for 
 the truth. I did go out of this house to meet 
 Tom. I can't explain any more just now, 
 but " 
 
 The kindly hand fell from her shoulder, and 
 with a swift motion John Hale switched on the 
 electric light above him. His eyes flashed an- 
 grily as he looked at the trembling girl. 
 
 "No," he said, " don't explain anything. 
 There is no need of it. You would better go 
 to your room instead." 
 
 And, opening the door, he motioned to her 
 to go into the house ahead of him.
 
 Chapter Eighteen 
 
 With feverish haste Constance Medford pre- 
 pared for the night. Weary and spent, she felt 
 that the only relief in store for her was to lose 
 consciousness in sleep. She kept telling herself 
 that she must not think, and all the while her 
 thoughts chased each other disconnectedly 
 through her brain. Keenly alive to every sound 
 in the house, she fancied she heard the tele- 
 phone ring downstairs, but would not allow 
 herself to pause in the brushing of her hair to 
 listen. 
 
 When, a little later, her uncle's light tap 
 sounded on her door, she started violently, and 
 her hands trembled as she fastened the wrap- 
 per which she threw about her before going to 
 receive his message. 
 
 "I promised," John Hale said in a low voice, 
 "to tell you what I heard from the hospital. 
 Dr. Sheffield just rang me up to say that there 
 is little that is new to report. The patient has 
 partially recovered consciousness and seems to 
 be suffering much pain. There may be, as the 
 266
 
 In the Web of Life 267 
 
 doctor has already told us, some internal injury. 
 Yet the heart is strong and the patient may 
 recover." 
 
 The door closed and he was gone without 
 waiting to hear the girl's faltering " Thank 
 you!" She stood for a long while just where 
 he had left her. She longed to rush wildly 
 after him, to throw herself upon his breast, to 
 beg him to tell her if he thought Tom was 
 going to live. Twenty-four hours ago she could 
 have done this to the elderly man who, she had 
 believed then, loved her. Now she could not. 
 She was resentful as she recalled how he had 
 spoken of Tom only as "the patient," just as 
 he might have spoken of the most casual 
 stranger. What was the matter? What had 
 Tom done I What had she done to merit such 
 treatment? 
 
 Going into her dressing-room she dashed cold 
 water over her face and neck. She must try 
 to cool her brain, to see matters more clearly. 
 She braided her hair, put on her night-gown, 
 and knelt, as she had always done since baby- 
 hood, at the side of her bed to say her prayers. 
 She repeated the familiar words, but they 
 meant nothing to her. At last, with a sigh
 
 268 In the Web of Life 
 
 that was almost a sob, she exclaimed: "Oh, 
 Lord, I am too tired to pray ! You know that ! ' ' 
 and rose from her knees. 
 
 Who would dare assert that this prayer did 
 not reach the Divine ear, and that the Lord 
 did not know and understand? 
 
 Throwing herself upon her bed, the weary 
 girl tried to sleep. But it was in vain. Con- 
 jecture, memories, fear stabbed her to vivid 
 consciousness whenever a sense of drowsiness 
 stole over her. She knew she had a painful 
 problem to face and she could not sleep until 
 she had faced it. Finally, her eyes staring 
 straight before her, she whipped her jaded mind 
 to the task of thinking connectedly, instead of 
 flying from one subject to another as it had 
 been doing for the past hour. 
 
 The moonlight was so bright now that she 
 could dimly trace the outline of the pattern on 
 the wall paper on which her eyes were fixed. 
 Little by little she reviewed the events of the 
 day and evening. She recalled every word of 
 Edith's insinuations, then she remembered Mr. 
 Hale 's accusing query just before he opened the 
 front door for her a while ago. 
 
 What did father and daughter suspect?
 
 In the Web of Life 269 
 
 What did they believe of her and Tom? She 
 had pushed this question from her again and 
 again. Now she forced herself to answer it. 
 Her uncle's query and his ensuing anger made 
 the matter so plain that she could not deceive 
 herself about it any longer. And as she looked 
 at the naked facts of his suspicions and of 
 Edith's suggestions, planted, Constance knew, 
 by Ealph, she uttered a moan of anguish. 
 
 Could anyone who knew her believe such 
 things of her? Hot waves of shame and of 
 rage engulfed her and she felt as if she were 
 drowning in a sea of misery. Only a pure- 
 minded, straightforward woman, whose life had 
 been protected from the very shadow of evil, 
 could understand this girl's suffering. 
 
 The hours dragged away while she lay fight- 
 ing her battle alone. And all at once the tem- 
 pest was succeeded by a strange calm. She was 
 no longer a young and frightened girl, she told 
 herself, but a woman who must meet life as it 
 had been forced upon her through no fault of 
 her own. She thought she was calm, yet under- 
 neath the hot fire of resentment still burned. 
 
 When at last the birds began to herald the 
 coming of the day she had reached a decision.
 
 270 In the Web of Life 
 
 She could see the first step she must take. She 
 would tell her uncle of this first step when he 
 sent to her for an "explanation." She would 
 give him no explanation. If he could think such 
 evil of her she would not stoop to deny it. 
 
 She was young and reached this decision 
 without counting the cost. Youth is strong and 
 swift to resent and to punish an injustice. 
 
 It had been a wonderfully light night since 
 she had come to her room, she mused, as, rising 
 wearily from her bed, she closed the blinds to 
 shut out the dawn. A cool wind had sprung 
 up, and she shivered as it blew against her 
 body. She felt strangely weak and her bones 
 ached. She must sleep, or she might be ill here 
 in this house which she was determined to leave 
 so soon. Now that she had reached a decision, 
 she could surely forget her troubles for a 
 while. 
 
 In a way painfully familiar to the sufferer 
 from insomnia, she beat up and turned over 
 her pillows before lying down again. The ac- 
 tion brought to her mind the recollection of 
 how, when as a little girl she had had some 
 childish illness, her mother had "smoothed" 
 her pillows for her, and with the remembrance
 
 In the Web of Life 271 
 
 came a gush of merciful tears relieving the 
 tension of the overstrained nerves. 
 
 ' ' Oh, mother ! mother ! " the girl sobbed, bury- 
 ing her face in the bed clothing that the sound 
 of her passionate weeping might not be heard. 
 "If I only had you now! If you were only 
 here!" 
 
 Perhaps her mother was there. For, an hour 
 later, when Mrs. Hale, worrying about "that 
 child," stole softly to the door and opened it 
 noiselessly, Constance was lying, fast asleep, 
 with a smile almost of contentment on her 
 lips. 
 
 "I don't know what's wrong," Mrs. Hale 
 muttered as she returned to her own room, 
 "for John wouldn't talk about it last night. 
 But this morning I intend to learn what the 
 matter is. ' ' 
 
 "Constance must not be disturbed," Mrs. 
 Hale had said to her husband and daughter 
 when she summoned them to breakfast that 
 morning. The maids were warned to "make 
 no noise for fear of awakening Miss Constance, 
 who was not well." The aunt's one thought 
 seemed to be for her niece's physical comfort.
 
 272 In the Web of Life 
 
 Yet, when the morning meal was over and the 
 family were alone together after the waitress 
 had left the dining-room, the wife said decid- 
 edly: "Now, John, I want to know what all 
 this mystery and disturbance mean." 
 
 "I want you to know," her husband replied 
 promptly. ' * I shall not go to town before eleven 
 o'clock. I wish you and Edith to come with 
 me into the library for a serious talk." 
 
 As soon as the trio were seated in the library 
 the master of the house imparted to the shocked 
 women the news of Tom's accident. Distressed 
 as Mrs. Hale was to hear of the catastrophe, 
 this distress sank into insignificance compared 
 with her grief and pained incredulity when she 
 learned of what her husband and daughter ac- 
 cused her niece. Edith added her bit of infor- 
 mation to the effect that Ealph had come back 
 last night to meet Tom and had, with what she 
 termed his "wonderful insight," guessed at 
 once that Constance had gone to meet his 
 cousin. 
 
 "And you see he was right," the girl insisted, 
 a gleam of triumph in her eyes. "He could not 
 stay until your return, father, for his mother 
 was ill in spite of your assertions to the con-
 
 In the Web of Life 273 
 
 trary. I asked him if Peter had not said that 
 his mother needed him, and I reported to him 
 what Mrs. Morton's maid had told you and 
 he said that the girl had told you that because 
 his mother did not want anyone to know she 
 was worse. Edward Dayton must have been 
 mistaken in thinking that he met Ralph walk- 
 ing, for Ralph was in his car and had just been 
 down to the village to get something from the 
 drug-store for his mother." 
 
 "That is all beside the question!" said Mr. 
 Hale irritably. "What is of infinitely more 
 importance than what Ralph did or said last 
 night is the fact that circumstantial evidence 
 shows that Constance has deceived us." 
 
 Of course, Mrs. Hale protested that she "did 
 not believe it," and that "it could not be true," 
 but at last, after hearing all the evidence, was 
 compelled to acknowledge that she "simply 
 could not understand it." 
 
 "My only hope," said her husband, "is that 
 Constance may explain some seemingly inex- 
 plicable things and deny the charges against 
 her." 
 
 "If she is innocent she will deny them," 
 said Edith judicially "but I fear she cannot."
 
 274 I" the We ^ f 
 
 Meanwhile Kalph Morton had received his 
 morning's mail and with it the letter from Tom 
 Morton, written yesterday afternoon, demand- 
 ing that he come into town to see him. 
 
 His face paled as he read it, for he had not 
 slept well last night and was nervous this morn- 
 ing. A sudden idea occurred to him. He would 
 stop at his fiancee's house on his way to the 
 station. He told his mother a hasty good-by 
 congratulating her upon looking so well this 
 morning, and felt no pangs of conscience for 
 having lied about her condition last night. 
 
 He had a part to act, and he must act it 
 well. He rehearsed it mentally on his brisk 
 walk to the Hale home where the maid ushered 
 him into the library. As he wished to have 
 his stage-setting correct, he glanced eagerly at 
 the open hearth. He knew that it was Mrs. 
 Hale's custom to have a fire lighted here each 
 morning, even after Spring had arrived. To- 
 day was unusually cool for this time of year, 
 and the logs were blazing merrily. 
 
 ' ' Good morning, ' ' he said to the group gath- 
 ered here, then, without further preamble, 
 turned quickly to his host. "You found Con- 
 stance, didn't you?" he said, with apparent
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 anxiety. "Edith telephoned a guarded mes- 
 sage to me to that effect last night. I confess 
 that since the receipt of this letter from Tom 
 just now, I am surprised to know that she re- 
 turned." 
 
 He drew Tom's envelope from his pocket and 
 held it so that each person present recognized 
 Tom Morton's bold chirography. "And did 
 Tom come too T " he asked abruptly. 
 
 "No," said Mr. Hale; "he -- " 
 
 "Ah, I thought not!" Ealph interrupted him. 
 "When I read this I was sure of it. But how 
 did their plans miscarry his and Constance 's, 
 I mean, so that she came back last night in- 
 stead of - " 
 
 He stopped as if checking himself on the 
 verge of the admission of some shameful secret. 
 "I would like to know," he added more cau- 
 tiously, coming closer to Mr. Hale and dropping 
 his voice, "what message Tom sent you to ac- 
 count for his absence. I must know before I 
 show you his letter. ' ' 
 
 Mr. Hale spoke sternly, with no effort to 
 soften what might be a blow to the cousin of 
 the injured man. ' ' He sent no message, Ealph, ' ' 
 he said. "He could not for he had a bad acci-
 
 276 In the Web of Life 
 
 dent. He is fearfully hurt is in the hospital 
 he may die. ' ' 
 
 The pallor that swept over Ralph Morton's 
 face was not the result of acting. The words 
 "may die" staggered him. But he did not for- 
 get the role he had laid out for himself. 
 
 "Accident!" he gasped. "Tom hurt Tom 
 in the hospital ! Oh, why didn't you send for 
 me? Why didn't you let me know?" 
 
 "What would have been the use?" Mr. Hale 
 rejoined more kindly. "You could have done 
 nothing. He was in competent hands." 
 
 The young man stood for a moment as if 
 stunned. Then he looked at the letter he still 
 held. John Hale, seeing the look, held out his 
 hand. 
 
 "Let me see that letter," he demanded. 
 "You were going to show it to me." 
 
 But Ralph drew back. "Oh, no!" he ex- 
 claimed. ' * I can 't now ! Oh, poor Tom ! ' ' 
 
 Mr. Hale moved impatiently. "Tom's acci- 
 dent has not altered his character, ' ' he declared. 
 "If there is anything in that letter that I" 
 he hesitated "that I, as Miss Medford's 
 uncle, should know I have a right to see 
 it."
 
 In the Web of Life 277 
 
 Before anyone present could guess his inten- 
 tion, Balph stepped quickly to the open fire- 
 place and dropped the letter into the heart of 
 the leaping flames. As John Hale, with an ex- 
 clamation of dismay, sprang forward to snatch 
 at the blazing paper, the young man laid a 
 strong hand on his arm. 
 
 ' * Don 't sir ! " he said sternly. ' ' Tom is hurt 
 he may die nobody must ever know what 
 was in that letter." 
 
 For a moment nobody spoke. Then as the 
 burning paper turned to gray ashes Ealph Mor- 
 ton looked at his host. 
 
 "Forgive me, sir," he said. "It is better 
 so. You see Tom is my cousin, and" with 
 a break in his voice "I once loved him and 
 trusted him." 
 
 John Hale held out his hand, "You are a 
 noble man, Ealph, ' ' he replied huskily. ' ' I seem 
 never to have known you until now." 
 
 "I am not noble, sir," Balph protested, re- 
 turning the cordial handclasp but dropping his 
 eyes before the frank admiration in the gaze of 
 the other man. "It is only what any fellow 
 would have done. Why, Edith!" his tone 
 changing to tenderness as he glanced at his
 
 278 In the Web of Life 
 
 betrothed, "why, little girl, what are you cry- 
 ing about?" 
 
 He put his arm about her and drew her to 
 him, glad, perhaps, of an excuse to let go of 
 his host's honest hand. The host himself looked 
 away hastily. He might be willing to acknowl- 
 edge that he had been mistaken in this man's 
 character, might be willing to accept him as his 
 daughter's suitor but that father does not 
 exist who does not feel a chill of repulsion when, 
 for the first time, he sees his best-loved child 
 in the arms of the man who is to take her away 
 from him. 
 
 Edith gazed up into her lover's eyes. "I'm 
 silly to cry, I suppose," she whispered, "but 
 you are so fine, so splendid!" 
 
 Mrs. Hale's matter-of-fact accents broke in 
 upon the sentimentality of the occasion. 
 "Nevertheless," she said, with cold practical- 
 ity, "I think that we have a right to know what 
 was in that letter." 
 
 "I am sorry, my dear Mrs. Hale," rejoined 
 Ealph, releasing Edith and replying to her 
 mother's suggestion, "but I cannot tell anyone 
 what was in that letter. If Tom dies" he 
 paused as if the idea were painful to him
 
 In the Web of Life 279 
 
 "nobody must ever know what lie wrote me. 
 If he lives I cannot betray Ms secret. Had 
 he not had this accident matters would have 
 been different, for then he could have faced us 
 all, if need be, and defended himself. As it is, 
 he was not allowed to carry out his designs. 
 To tell what they were would be to punish him 
 and another for what did not happen. ' ' 
 
 "And that 'other' was whom?" Mrs. Hale 
 insisted. "Do you mean to intimate that my 
 niece knows the contents of that letter?" 
 
 John Hale looked at his wife in surprise. 
 He thought he understood her every mood, but 
 until now he had never seen her when one of 
 her own sex whom she loved and had trusted 
 was accused of that which was degrading to 
 her womanhood. 
 
 "Martha, my dear," he protested, "this is 
 not the kind of matter of which you wish to 
 know more. Personally, I have heard and seen 
 enough to convince me, against my will, that 
 we have been mistaken in the character of the 
 niece you loved " 
 
 He stopped abruptly, for the door opened 
 quietly and Constance stood before them. For 
 months afterward John Hale could not erase
 
 280 In the Web of Life 
 
 from his memory the girl's face and attitude 
 as she stood looking from one to the other of 
 the group. She had put on a black street dress 
 for she still wore mourning and the soft 
 black tulle that filled in the open triangle at 
 the throat accentuated her clear pallor. Her 
 deep gray eyes seemed larger and darker than 
 usual because of the shadowy rings around 
 them rings caused by long hours of sleepless- 
 ness. Her chestnut hair was coiled low at the 
 back of her shapely head, and her lips drooped 
 slightly at the corners, giving a plaintive, pen- 
 sive expression to the sensitive mouth. 
 
 She resembled strangely a well-known pre- 
 sentment of Joan of Arc by an Italian sculptor. 
 Anyone gazing at her would have found it dif- 
 ficult to believe that a smirch of scandal could 
 ever touch this refined creature. Yet as her 
 glance rested upon Kalph the soft lines of her 
 mouth hardened and she took a step toward her 
 uncle. 
 
 "I knocked, but you did not hear me," she 
 said simply. "I waited upstairs for you to 
 send for me, but as you did not do so I have 
 taken the liberty of coming unsummoned. May
 
 SHE RESEMBLED STRANGELY A WELL-KNOWN PRESENTMENT OF JOAN 
 
 OF ARC BY AN ITALIAN SCULPTOR
 
 In the Web of Life 281 
 
 I speak with you alone at least" with a catch 
 in her breath "with only aunt present?'* 
 
 The usually sweet and trainante voice was 
 this morning a dull monotone. Any compunc- 
 tion that had seized John Hale as he saw the 
 solitary and pathetic figure in the doorway was 
 changed to surprised disapproval by this 
 speech. 
 
 "I think," he said coldly, "that your temper 
 has not been improved by a night of reflection 
 if you can still cherish such anger against your 
 cousin and her betrothed that you ask me to 
 send them out of your presence. ' ' 
 
 The retort went straight home, but Constance 
 had steeled herself to maintain a stony calm. 
 "I only meant, uncle," she explained, "that I 
 prefer telling my plans to those who are truly 
 interested in me. May I see you alone?" 
 
 Mrs. Hale rose from her chair. "I am sorry, 
 Constance," she said, with an effort to speak 
 sternly, "that you are so angry with Edith. 
 She, poor child, was very unhappy about you 
 last night." 
 
 "I am sorry I made anybody unhappy last 
 night," Constance rejoined, still in an emotion- 
 less tone. "I did not intend to do so."
 
 282 In the Web of Life 
 
 "Constance!" her aunt appealed to her sud- 
 denly and impulsively. "What did you intend 
 to do last night? I don't want to believe what 
 I've heard!" 
 
 But John Hale interposed before his wife 
 could say any more. "If you please, Martha," 
 he said with dignity, "I prefer that you leave 
 this matter with me. I know enough already 
 to prove to you that Constance has deceived 
 us. If you will leave her with me now, she and 
 I will come to an understanding. Perhaps," 
 with a reproachful look at the black-clad figure, 
 "I may then hear from her that which Balph's 
 nobility has prevented his telling us of her 
 assignation with Tom last night." 
 
 The flood of crimson that sprang to the ac- 
 cused girl's face retreated as quickly, leaving 
 her paler than before. "What do you mean?" 
 she demanded, turning swiftly upon Kalph. 
 "What do you mean, I say?" 
 
 "My lips are sealed by a sense of honor," 
 the man replied significantly. 
 
 The answer struck a blaze of wrath from what 
 had seemed a moment before like the flint of 
 this girl's composure. She smote her hands 
 sharply together.
 
 In the Web of Life 283 
 
 "Honor!" she exclaimed. "H*onor from 
 you!" 
 
 And as she saw the malignant gleam in the 
 man 's eyes, she burst into a scornful laugh.
 
 Chapter Nineteen 
 
 A man may have a quick temper, but his 
 ability to control it depends largely on his 
 physical and nervous state. That which he 
 would regard at one time as a mere annoy- 
 ance will at another time cause him to give vent 
 to sudden passion. While John Hale had a hot 
 temper, he usually had no trouble in conceal- 
 ing any undue manifestation of its existence. 
 
 This morning, however, the case was differ- 
 ent. Anxiety, a restless night, disagreeable 
 surprises, had contributed to put him in a con- 
 dition where Constance's words had the power 
 to make him very nearly forget the fact that he 
 was a gentleman and that this girl was under 
 his roof. His wife, seeing the light of anger 
 leap to his eyes, noting the sudden clenching 
 of his hands and the stiffening of the muscles 
 of his mouth and chin, knew that a storm was 
 not only brewing, but was about to break. 
 With a brief command to her daughter and 
 Ealph to come with her, she retreated with as 
 much haste as was consistent with dignity, leav- 
 284
 
 In the Web of Life 285 
 
 ing what she thought of as "this horrible mess" 
 to be settled by her husband and her niece. 
 
 She was the more willing to do this as she 
 found herself all at once incensed by Con- 
 stance 's attitude. She had tried to plead kindly 
 with the girl and had met with no response. 
 How could she know that Constance's only 
 safety lay in maintaining her self-imposed poise 
 and that had she allowed herself to reply to her 
 aunt her composure would have vanished? 
 Moreover, Mrs. Hale's maternal love was 
 wounded by Constance's manner toward Edith 
 and Edith's betrothed. All these facts made 
 her feel justified in retreating from the scene 
 of conflict. 
 
 The door had hardly closed behind Ralph, 
 who had stood aside to allow the ladies to pass 
 out before him, when Constance spoke, her tone 
 so humble as to be in conspicuous contrast to 
 the voice in which she had resented Ralph's 
 reply to her vehement demand. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, uncle," she said, "for 
 speaking in your presence as I did just now. 
 But I was justifiably angry yet you know it 
 was not at you. ' ' 
 
 There was no responsive softness in John
 
 2 86 In the Web of Life 
 
 Hale's reply. On the contrary, his voice was 
 sharp and rasping. He was intensely angry and 
 he did not care if the object of his wrath knew 
 it. 
 
 "I am not at all sure that I will accept your 
 apology," he retorted. "I am so much dis- 
 pleased with you that I cannot talk to you or 
 think of you with any patience. You have car- 
 ried on a clandestine affair with a man to whom 
 your cousin was engaged, have insulted my 
 child, have forgotten your duty to your aunt 
 and me by bursting into a rage against our 
 guest and future son-in-law have, in fact, be- 
 haved in such a manner that unless you are in- 
 sane I see no excuse in the world for you ! ' ' 
 
 The girl at whom he addressed this tirade 
 stood as if turned to stone. Her silence fanned 
 his wrath. When one receives no reply to vio- 
 lent accusations one is conscious of a madden- 
 ing sense of impotence. It is like beating the 
 air with one's fists. 
 
 "Have you nothing to say?" queried the in- 
 censed man. 
 
 "Only to beg your pardon, sir, for my seem- 
 ing ingratitude. I do not apologize for the
 
 In the Web of Life 287 
 
 things you accuse me of, but I have been grate- 
 ful, in spite of appearances to the contrary." 
 
 "Who's asking for gratitude?" stormed 
 John Hale. "Don't dare suggest to me that I 
 am looking for thanks from you ! I have never 
 thought of them and I don 't expect them ! But 
 I do want you to explain to me your course 
 lately ; I do want you to tell me that the things 
 which I have been told about you (which, please 
 remember, I did not believe until I had to) 
 are false. Can you deny them?" 
 
 He had not reckoned on the resentment of 
 injustice in the breast of his opponent for this 
 is what for the moment he felt her to be and 
 he started with surprise at her reply. 
 
 "Whether I can deny them or not," she said, 
 "I do not propose to do so. If you can believe 
 me capable of the things of which you accuse 
 me, nothing I might say could make any dif- 
 ference." 
 
 She faced him proudly for an instant, un- 
 flinching under his stern gaze. Then she spoke 
 again. 
 
 "Even if I cannot say what you wish, I must 
 say once more that I am grateful to you and 
 aunt for all that you have done for me since I
 
 In the Web of Life 
 
 came here. It is only fair to you both and to 
 Edith that I do not stay here any longer. I 
 would not leave without telling you so I want 
 you to know that I am going away to-day. I 
 am aware," hesitatingly, "that I am much in 
 your debt financially, I mean for you have 
 never allowed me to pay for my board and 
 lodging. "What I owe you for many kindnesses 
 can never be repaid, but I hope some day to 
 refund you for for other things." 
 
 "This is sheer madness and wicked temper 
 on your part, Constance ! ' ' the man began. She 
 stopped him with an uplifted hand. 
 
 "I do not wish," she said wearily, "to talk 
 any longer about this matter. Will you explain 
 it all to aunt for me please?" 
 
 "Don't make a fool of yourself, girl!" he 
 blustered. But without waiting to hear any- 
 thing more she went quickly from the room. 
 
 John Hale dropped into his desk-chair, and, 
 leaning back, closed his eyes. He felt shaken 
 and quivering. "I haven't let myself get as 
 angry as that for years, ' ' he murmured. "And 
 all for a chit of a girl! She won't leave us 
 unless we send her away. No fear of that.
 
 In the Web of Life 289 
 
 She's too smart to quarrel with her bread and 
 butter yet awhile!" 
 
 Which sentiment only proved that he was 
 still angry. Nor was he yet calm in mind when 
 he caught the eleven o 'clock train for New York. 
 
 Being a man, he did not understand feminine 
 psychology, so he could hardly be expected to 
 know that Constance had already packed her 
 trunk, leaving in closets and bureau drawers all 
 of the jewelry and clothing that the Hales had 
 given her and taking with her only the articles 
 with which she had come to their home. 
 
 At twelve o 'clock, when Mrs. Hale and Edith 
 had gone out for an hour's drive before lunch- 
 eon to "quiet their nerves," Constance sum- 
 moned a cab from the livery stable and had her- 
 self and her luggage carried to the railroad 
 station. 
 
 But she left behind, on her aunt's dressing 
 table, a little note of apology and affection. 
 Her aunt, in reading it, noted regretfully in 
 spite of her indignant grief and agitation that 
 it contained no farewell message for "poor 
 Edith." 
 
 Constance Medford's decision may have been 
 the result of resentful impulse, but she had
 
 290 In the Web of Life 
 
 planned her first step and could see it plainly. 
 Beyond this she would not look just yet. 
 
 She was not penniless, for her expenses had 
 been few and she had saved much of the money 
 she had earned by giving music lessons. This 
 was in the little bag which she grasped tightly 
 as she alighted from the New York train. She 
 remembered with a sense of gratitude that her 
 patrons had been in the habit of paying her on 
 the fifteenth of each month, and that only last 
 week she had received almost all the money 
 due her. This would support her until she could 
 secure a few music pupils. She would drop a 
 line to each of them to-night, saying that she 
 had been called away, and advising them to se- 
 cure some other teacher. At first she had 
 thought of commuting to Homewood. In the 
 light of recent events she felt she could not do 
 this. 
 
 As a child, Constance Medford had had a 
 governess of whom she was very fond. She 
 was a Mrs. Blair whose husband had died at 
 the end of a year of wedded life. She had been 
 a school friend of Constance's mother. For a 
 while the young widow had barely supported 
 herself by conducting a small kindergarten, but
 
 In the Web of Life 291 
 
 when, under the strain of work and anxiety, her 
 health broke down, Mrs. Medford had taken her 
 to her home and nursed her back to health, then 
 offered her the position of governess to her 
 little daughter. This offer the widow accepted 
 thankfully and became Constance's only in- 
 structor. 
 
 Even after Mrs. Medford 's death Mrs. Blair 
 continued to teach the motherless child, but 
 when Constance was fourteen the conscientious 
 governess began to fear that her methods were, 
 perhaps, behind the times, and she wondered 
 if it were not her duty to withdraw and allow 
 her charge 's education to be carried on by more 
 competent persons than herself. The news that 
 a distant relative of her own had died, leaving 
 her his property the income from which would 
 enable her to live simply but comfortably 
 decided the matter for her, and she settled 
 in a small apartment in New York. Here she 
 had resided for years, satisfied with her books 
 and charitable work, and here her former pupil 
 often went to see her. 
 
 It was to Mrs. Blair's home that Constance 
 directed her steps to-day as soon as she reached 
 New York. As she rode uptown she tried to
 
 292 In the Web of Life 
 
 forget that there was now no place in the world 
 which she could feel she had a right to call 
 "home." Perhaps the loneliest place in the 
 world to the homeless man or woman is a great 
 city. One feels apart from the busy, hustling 
 throng all working for their own homes or to 
 maintain homes for those they love. Con- 
 stance felt a lump come in her throat as she 
 faced the future, but she conquered the pang of 
 self-pity and told herself that she was, after 
 all, not so very desolate. 
 
 To her relief she found her old friend in, 
 and laid before her the plan which she had 
 formed. She would like, she said, to share Mrs. 
 Blair's apartment at least to be allowed to 
 sleep on the couch in the hall bedroom until 
 such time as she could secure enough music 
 pupils to warrant her in taking a room in a 
 respectable boarding house and hiring her own 
 piano. 
 
 "You see I have plenty of money to pay 
 you board for some weeks, ' ' she explained hur- 
 riedly, "and I am sure you will not object to 
 my using your piano for practising in fact, I 
 would, of course, want to pay for the use of that 
 too."
 
 In the Web of Life 293 
 
 She talked fast and excitedly, telling the story 
 she had outlined in the early morning hours. 
 She told nothing that was not true, yet she with- 
 held the truths that she could not bring herself 
 to tell. She explained that for reasons which 
 she could not divulge " family reasons" she 
 called them she had decided to leave her 
 uncle's home. She did not want anyone to 
 know her whereabouts. Then she hesitated and 
 blushed hotly. She would like, if possible, to 
 have her new scholars know her by an assumed 
 name. 
 
 But at this suggestion Mrs. Blair gasped so 
 audibly that Constance stopped with a sudden 
 appreciation of all that she had been demanding 
 of this friend. 
 
 "Oh," she exclaimed contritely, "I have been 
 so full of thoughts of myself that I have not 
 thought of all the trouble I may cause you! 
 Tell me frankly if you would rather not take 
 me in." 
 
 "Dear child!" exclaimed the sweet-faced 
 woman, "I want you here. I get very lonely 
 sometimes even though I am content with my 
 lot. Think what your mother did for me. 
 Should I not welcome her daughter as if she
 
 294 I n the Web of Life 
 
 were my very own 1 But, dear, you say you can- 
 not tell me the family reasons that make this 
 course advisable. Yet" she colored painfully 
 ' ' surely, if you are going to take an assumed 
 name, there must be some reason." 
 
 She paused, overcome by embarrassment. 
 "You know I trust you," she added. 
 
 With an impetuous movement Constance 
 threw her arms about her companion and gazed 
 into the kindly, troubled eyes. ''Look at me," 
 the girl said solemnly. "I give you my word 
 of honor that I am doing nothing of which my 
 mother or father would disapprove if if 
 they were here and knew the circumstances," 
 her voice breaking suddenly. 
 
 The woman, who although childless, had a 
 mother-heart, drew the girl's head down upon 
 her breast and stroked the shining hair. 
 ' There, there, dear ! " she soothed. ' That's all 
 right ! Come and stay with me as long as you 
 like. If there are things you can't tell me 
 never mind. And, dear, if you want to give 
 references to the parents of your possible pu- 
 pils just give my name. It may not be worth 
 much, but" with a little laugh "it is very
 
 In the Web of Life 295 
 
 respectable, and you are welcome to use it as 
 often as it can be of service to you." 
 
 Constance joined in her laugh, winking hard 
 to dispel the tears that had sprung to her eyes 
 and the little joke seemed to clear the over- 
 charged atmosphere. Later, when she went to 
 the station to order her trunk sent to Mrs. 
 Blair's apartment, she stepped into a telephone 
 booth, and, calling up the Homewood Hospital, 
 asked tremulously, in spite of her efforts to 
 speak indifferently, how Mr. Morton was. 
 
 "He is resting more comfortably," the office 
 attendant said. * ' Who shall I say asked I ' ' 
 
 "Oh, never mind!" the girl replied hastily. 
 Then she hung up the receiver and hurried 
 from the booth as if afraid that her presence 
 there might betray her identity to the official 
 away out in the Homewood Hospital.
 
 Chapter Twenty 
 
 There is nearly always a deadly lull that fol- 
 lows upon agitation or excitement of any kind. 
 Especially is this the case when the excitement 
 has been of a painful nature, racking nerves 
 and trying tempers. While one is in the midst 
 of the turmoil there is a wild desire to escape 
 it, but when it is all over and life returns to its 
 uneventful calm one is suddenly overcome by 
 ennui or saddened by the deadly monotony of 
 existence. 
 
 Edith Hale was disagreeably aware of this 
 state of affairs in her home during the days 
 following upon Constance's departure. John 
 Hale with an authority which his wife and 
 daughter did not dispute directed them to in- 
 form the servants and any neighbors who might 
 ask about Constance that the girl had not been 
 well and had gone to visit friends in the hope 
 that the change of air might be beneficial to 
 her. 
 
 1 'Later," the master of the house said, "when 
 Constance gets tired of playing the fool and 
 296
 
 In the Web of Life 297 
 
 lets us know her whereabouts if she ever does 
 we can give some equally plausible excuse for 
 her absence. For, of course, she must not re- 
 turn here." 
 
 ' 'Of course not!" rejoined his wife. Even 
 while she wished that she knew where "the 
 child" was she looked at Edith and hardened 
 her heart against the offender. Yet she felt de- 
 pressed as she set about to transform Con- 
 stance's room into the guest chamber that it 
 had been before the girl's advent into the home. 
 Gathering up the various articles that her niece 
 had left behind her, the aunt put them away in 
 a box on the top shelf of her own closet. 
 
 She was ashamed to feel the tears rise to her 
 eyes as she did this, and she told herself that 
 it was only because she was remembering her 
 poor sister Constance's mother. 
 
 "Up in Heaven, where she is now," mused 
 the pious soul, "she must know it is not our 
 fault that Constance has behaved as she has. 
 If the dead do know what goes on down here 
 they must be mighty uncomfortable sometimes. 
 And if they don't know, they must be uneasy, 
 too. That's one thing about the state of the 
 blessed that I never can understand, so why
 
 298 In the Web of Life 
 
 think about it? I've got plenty of earthly 
 things to bother me yet a while. ' ' 
 
 One of these "things" was her daughter's 
 restlessness and moodiness. Probably the dear 
 child was grieving over Constance 's unkindness 
 and was still suffering from the shock of Tom's 
 treachery and accident. Indeed, only this 
 morning Edith had betrayed what was on her 
 mind by bringing to her mother the engage- 
 ment ring that Tom had given her weeks ago. 
 
 "What shall I do with this?" she had asked, 
 looking at it with an expression of aversion. 
 * * I don 't want to keep it a minute longer. Sup- 
 pose he dies!" 
 
 "You'd better ask father what he advises 
 you to do," her mother counseled. Then she 
 queried timidly: "By the way, dearie, has 
 Ealph spoken yet of an engagement ring?" 
 
 The girl frowned. ' ' Good heavens, mother ! ' ' 
 she exclaimed petulantly, "do let me get over 
 the wretchedness of one engagement before 
 you talk about my being bound fast by another 
 ring. Besides, I don't want to think about it 
 now certainly not until I get this hateful thing 
 out of the house."
 
 In the Web of Life 299 
 
 That evening she handed the ring to her fa- 
 ther. "What shall I do with it?" she asked. 
 
 Mr. Hale did not reply at once, but turned the 
 diamond this way and that, watching the beau- 
 tiful stone flash in the light from the chandelier 
 above him. He was a connoisseur in diamonds 
 and he appreciated the beauty of this one. He 
 felt a sudden pang almost like pity as he re- 
 called how Tom Morton had shown it to him 
 and how pleased the lad had seemed when the 
 older man had expressed his admiration of his 
 selection. Then, as suddenly, he remembered 
 what had happened since then and his face grew 
 stern. 
 
 "I will wrap it up and take it in to Tom's 
 office and instruct his clerk to put it away in 
 the safe, ' ' he said harshly. ' ' Nobody will know 
 what it is. Of course you want to get rid of 
 it. It would have been in better taste had you 
 returned it the very hour you broke your en- 
 gagement. ' ' 
 
 "I have never worn it since then," the girl 
 muttered sullenly. 
 
 "Where's Ralph this evening?" her father 
 asked, attributing her unhappy demeanor to her 
 lover's absence.
 
 300 In the Web of Life 
 
 "A business man from the South is in town 
 and could only see him to-night, ' ' she explained. 
 . ' ' That 's too bad, ' ' sympathized the parent. 
 
 Edith shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I don't 
 mind so much," she said indifferently. "I've 
 seen Ealph so often lately that we Ve both got- 
 ten talked out. I do wish there was something 
 pleasant or interesting to do in this place! 
 Thanks to Constance's behavior, the house is 
 like a tomb. She, at all events, was fun to talk 
 to and she could at least amuse one by playing 
 the piano. You're depressed, mother has the 
 blues, and as for me well, I'm bored to ex- 
 tinction ! ' ' 
 
 Her father looked at her keenly and disap- 
 provingly. "I think, my dear," he remarked, 
 "when one feels as you do it is a good plan 
 to do something for somebody else or to go 
 and see some one who is in real trouble or who 
 needs cheering. It would help you to get out 
 of your selfish thoughts if you did this. Why, 
 instead of moping around the house as you have 
 been doing for the past few days, don 't you go 
 and see some poor sick person Ralph's mother, 
 for instance? You said she was ill the other 
 night, yet you haven 't been near her. ' '
 
 In the Web of Life 301 
 
 "She'd only talk about Ralph and about her 
 ailments all the time," the girl objected. "But 
 I suppose, now that you speak of it, it would 
 be the decent thing to do. But that will bore 
 me, too." 
 
 The petulant tone irritated the man and he 
 spoke testily. "You're spoiled to death, 
 Edith," he declared. "That's what ails you! 
 You're spoiled to death!" 
 
 "If I am," she retorted sharply, "who's 
 fault is it, please?" 
 
 And before her astounded parent could find 
 a reply to her apt question she walked away, 
 leaving him staring blankly at the open door- 
 way through which she had passed. 
 
 In spite of her disinclination to do what she 
 termed "the decent thing" so far as the mother 
 of her betrothed was concerned, Edith Hale 
 called on Mrs. Morton the day following her 
 conversation with her father. Her reasons for 
 this action were various. She did not want to 
 put herself in the position of disobeying a bit 
 of advice which she knew her parent considered 
 equivalent to a command from him. She had 
 nothing especial to do, and the visit would while 
 away an hour that hung heavily on her hands.
 
 302 In the Web of Life 
 
 Last, and not least, Balph had uttered a faint 
 reproach couched, to be sure, in affectionate 
 terms because she had not yet called upon his 
 mother. Edith did not wish him to suspect that 
 she was annoyed at his admission that she, the 
 girl whom he loved, could be guilty of negli- 
 gence still she felt a slight resentment at his 
 speech and wished to justify herself in his eyes. 
 
 Balph Morton was not a devoted son, but he 
 wanted his fiancee to feel such intense interest 
 in all that pertained to him that she would long 
 to become intimate with his mother. His self- 
 love had been slightly wounded that Edith had 
 seemed content to remain on the terms of pleas- 
 ant but casual friendship that had always ex- 
 isted between Mrs. James Morton and herself. 
 
 "It was not," he reminded her, "as if mother 
 could come to see you, darling. But she is, as 
 you know, not strong enough to go about 
 much." 
 
 "But," Edith had excused herself, "she was 
 so ill the other night that I thought she might 
 not be able to see me if I went to her house. ' ' 
 
 "Oh," returned the lover hastily, "she has 
 quite recovered from that attack. As I told 
 you then, she was suffering greatly that was
 
 In the Web of Life 303 
 
 the reason I had to hurry home to her but 
 she is quite well now. By the way, do not men- 
 tion to her the fact that I told you of her illness. 
 She is sensitive about having people know of 
 her bad attacks." 
 
 Mrs. Morton received Edith in her pretty 
 boudoir. 
 
 "It is sweet of you to come, my dear," she 
 said. "I have been hoping to see you, but I 
 suppose you, like other well, strong young peo- 
 ple, are always on the go. Although I wrote 
 to you as soon as Ealph told me of his rare 
 good fortune, I have wanted to look into your 
 face and tell you again how glad I am that you 
 and my boy have learned to care for each 
 other." 
 
 "Thank you!" Edith returned. She felt 
 strangely shy in the presence of this rather 
 sentimental woman who would some day be her 
 mother-in-law, and was at a loss as to what to 
 say next. But there was no need of her making 
 conversation, for Mrs. Morton always a great 
 talker was so glad to have a sympathetic lis- 
 tener that she prattled on volubly, leaving scant 
 opportunity for Edith to talk had she been in- 
 clined to do so.
 
 304 In the Web of Life 
 
 As it was, the girl was unusually silent. Her 
 visit to Mrs. Morton, although prescribed by 
 her father as a remedy for her depression, was 
 not producing upon her the effect he had antici- 
 pated. The mother's stories of Ralph's various 
 perfections, her account of her own many ail- 
 ments, instead of interesting her caller embar- 
 rassed her. Had Ralph really supposed that his 
 mother was averse to speaking of her illness? 
 Like many another semi-invalid, Mrs. Morton 
 described her various symptoms at length, and, 
 Edith thought, ad nauseam. All at once the 
 girl's attention was caught by a sentence that 
 startled her. 
 
 "But, really, I ought not to complain," her 
 hostess was saying, "for I have not had one 
 of my bad attacks for three months not even a 
 threatening of one. Why," noting her listen- 
 er's change of expression "why do you look 
 so surprised?" 
 
 Edith remembered Ralph's warning only for 
 a fleeting instant. Surely he had been mistaken 
 in considering his mother sensitive on the sub- 
 ject upon which she had been discoursing at 
 length. . Besides that, was not his fiancee's 
 judgment as good as his own?
 
 In the Web of Life 305 
 
 "Because/' the girl replied impulsively, "I 
 thought that you were ill only a few nights ago 
 in fact on the night that that Tom had his 
 accident." 
 
 "Oh, no, my dear, you are mistaken," the 
 invalid corrected her. "I have felt very well of 
 late that is, very well for me. Ralph could 
 tell you how often he has congratulated me on 
 my improvement. And, by the way, speaking 
 of Tom what a shocking accident that was! 
 Ralph told me of it with so much feeling, for, 
 while he cannot approve of Tom's various in- 
 discretions, yet he has always been fond of his 
 cousin. The two men are so unlike ! Ralph is 
 so conscientious and thoughtful! Even when 
 he was a little boy," etc., etc. 
 
 She was launched again on one of her lengthy 
 and laudatory accounts of her son's virtues. 
 Edith fixed her eyes on her, seeming to pay 
 strict heed to what she was saying. But her 
 thoughts were busy with an idea that was rap- 
 idly taking shape in her mind. 
 
 She could not doubt Mrs. Morton's statement 
 with regard to her improved health of late. 
 Then why had Ralph told her that his mother 
 had been ill on that night on which he had said
 
 306 In the Web of Life 
 
 he was summoned home? What had been his 
 object? She longed to get away and think of 
 the matter. 
 
 As soon as she could do so with propriety she 
 arose, saying that she must go, as she did not 
 want to weary her hostess by making too long 
 a visit. "I will come again soon," she prom- 
 ised. "Do not ring for the maid. I can let 
 myself out of the house without her assist- 
 ance. ' ' 
 
 On her way toward the stairs she passed the 
 open door of Ralph's sanctum. Seized with a 
 sudden curiosity to see where her betrothed 
 spent much of his time, she stepped softly into 
 the room and glanced about her. On the mantel 
 was the picture of herself which she had sent 
 to Mrs. Morton last Christmas. A smile of 
 gratified vanity flitted across her lips as she 
 appreciate^ that the man who loved her had 
 confiscated this gift and made it his. Going a 
 step nearer, her eye fell upon an opened letter 
 lying on top of a pile of magazines on the table 
 near the window. Ralph Morton, in changing 
 his papers this morning from the pockets in 
 one suit to those in another, had dropped this 
 letter, and the maid in straightening up the
 
 In the Web of Life 307 
 
 room after his departure to the city had picked 
 it up and laid it on the table. 
 
 From where Edith stood she could see the 
 postmark on the envelope. It had been mailed 
 in Baltimore. 
 
 To most daughters of Eve comes sooner or 
 later the temptation to read a letter not meant 
 for their eyes. To many a woman it is but a 
 fleeting wish to ascertain by a single act that 
 which otherwise she may not learn except by 
 awaiting the deliberate sequence of events. 
 
 To the broad-minded, honorable woman the 
 knowledge that she has, even for a second, felt 
 an impulse that is unworthy of her better na- 
 ture brings with it a self-disgust that is so 
 much stronger than the temptation that the 
 latter loses its power, and she turns away from 
 it with a silent prayer of thanksgiving that she 
 has not been permitted to do that which until 
 now she had believed herself incapable of doing. 
 But to her weaker sister the desire to discover 
 something of which she has been kept in igno- 
 rance obliterates all scruples. 
 
 Such a desire, coupled with suspicion that 
 was a thrust at her vanity, moved Edith Hale 
 to pick up the letter lying before her. The
 
 308 In the Web of Life 
 
 large, flashy chirography affected by some 
 women of dashing personality stared out at 
 her so suddenly that she took in the whole 
 written message at a glance. 
 
 "Dear, I shall be in town to-morrow. Meet 
 me for dinner at the usual place at seven-thirty. 
 As always, E. P." 
 
 Edith dropped the letter in sudden agitation 
 as the suspicions caused by the Baltimore post- 
 mark on the envelope were justified by the in- 
 itials signed to the communication. She recalled 
 fhat these were the letters affixed to the tele- 
 gram that had come for Ealph on the night of 
 the engagement dinner, also that Ealph had 
 told her that the sender of the dispatch had been 
 a Mrs. Evelyn Price, and that when he had later 
 acknowledged that at one time he had an affair 
 with a woman an affair of which he was 
 ashamed she had suspected that it was with 
 this same woman the woman with whom Tom 
 had some dishonorable association. But Ealph 
 had broken with this Mrs. Price. She gasped 
 as she appreciated that this letter was proof 
 positive that he had not done so. No woman 
 would address any man as this correspondent
 
 In the Web of Life 309 
 
 addressed Ralph, taking for granted his com- 
 prehension and his acquiescence, unless she was 
 on intimate terms with him. And all this while 
 she, his betrothed, had been deceived by him, 
 had trusted him or had tried to trust him. 
 
 Edith Hale's hand did not tremble as she 
 picked up the letter from the floor and looked 
 at it again. It bore the date of May twenty- 
 sixth, and to-day was the twenty-eighth. The 
 writer spoke of "to-morrow." Then it had 
 been yesterday last night that Ralph was 
 to meet her * ' at the usual place. ' ' And he had 
 told his fiancee that he had a business engage*- 
 ment in town ! 
 
 The girl laid the letter just where she had 
 found it and went quietly down the steps and 
 out of the house. She had made her plans be- 
 fore she had walked far. She would not consult 
 her father until she had done as she pleased in 
 this matter. Had she ever loved this man, she 
 wondered. Her pride was hurt, her vanity 
 cruelly wounded, she was angry yet her heart 
 was not sad. 
 
 She was in the habit of looking at everything 
 from the standpoint of its effect upon herself 
 only. Her chief regret now was that she had
 
 310 In the Web of Life 
 
 announced her engagement. Yet, after all, she 
 had never actually announced it. She had only 
 let people congratulate her. But she caught 
 her breath if Balph could explain this letter, 
 if he could convince her that all this was some 
 horrible mistake would she remain engaged 
 to him? 
 
 She knew that of late he had bored her, that 
 Mrs. Morton had seemed detestably egotistical 
 and commonplace this afternoon, that as she, 
 Edith Hale, pictured her life with Ealph Mor- 
 ton and his mother, she was oppressed by a 
 conviction that such an existence would be flat, 
 stale and unprofitable. 
 
 The woman of deep nature may not under- 
 stand the frequent changes of sentiment to 
 which this girl was subject. But it must be 
 remembered that she had never loved any man 
 as much as she loved herself, her own comfort 
 and her own pleasures. Demonstrative in her 
 expressions of affection when she was indulged, 
 resentful when thwarted, happy in the sun- 
 shine, unhappy in the shade, fond of being loved 
 and of being amused, she was like many another 
 American girl of to-day. There are certain 
 plants of the spirit that need some shadow to
 
 In the Web of Life 311 
 
 make them grow. If the seeds of such were 
 in Edith Hale's nature, there had been too much 
 uninterrupted sunshine in her life to give them 
 an opportunity to thrive. She did not love 
 Ealph Morton, yet it was a very genuine feel- 
 ing that made her cheeks glow and her dark 
 eyes snap as she reached a climax in her de- 
 cision. 
 
 "I'll make him uncomfortable I'll punish 
 him for this ! ' ' she muttered. 
 
 "Good afternoon, Miss Hale." 
 
 Edith awoke to consciousness of her sur- 
 roundings with a start. Edward Dayton stood 
 in front of her, his hat in his hand and an ad- 
 miring smile on his face. 
 
 "You looked so severe that I was almost 
 afraid to speak to you," he said laughingly; 
 "yet your wrath or whatever it was was so 
 becoming to you that I could not bring myself 
 to the point of allowing you to pass." 
 
 The girl laughed. His presence at this junc- 
 ture seemed a wonderfully happy coincidence. 
 
 "May I walk as far as your house with you?" 
 he asked, falling into step beside her. 
 
 "Of course you may!" she replied, cordially, 
 then chatted merrily until her home was
 
 312 In the Web of Life 
 
 reached. Here she invited him to come in, and, 
 excusing herself for a moment, sought her 
 mother. 
 
 "Ned Dayton is here," she said hurriedly. 
 " Won't you go down and invite him to stay to 
 dinner?" 
 
 "But," Mrs. Hale hesitated, "isn't Ealph 
 coming to call this evening?" 
 
 "No, he is not," Edith returned abruptly. 
 "What's more, I don't want him! There, 
 dear" as she saw her mother's expression of 
 dismay "it's all right! I'm tired of Ralph, 
 that 's all. Now run on and invite Ned to stay. ' ' 
 
 Being a well-trained American mother, Mrs. 
 Hale went downstairs to carry out instructions 
 while Edith went to her room to don a bewitch- 
 ing dinner gown. Yet she found time before 
 dinner to call up Ealph Morton. He had just 
 reached home and greeted her in an affectionate 
 voice. But his tone changed to one of conster- 
 nation as he received her message. She would 
 prefer that he did not call on her this evening. 
 
 ' ' But I have made all my plans to come, ' ' he 
 protested. 
 
 "And I," she said curtly, "have made all 
 my plans not to have you come. Good night ! ' '
 
 Chapter Twenty-one 
 
 Edward Dayton accepted with pleased alac- 
 rity Mrs. Hale's invitation to "stay to dinner. " 
 
 "I was on my way from the city," he ex- 
 plained, "when I met Miss Edith, so I have not 
 dressed for the evening. But I do want to 
 accept your delightful invitation so I hope you 
 will pardon my business suit." 
 
 "Indeed we will," said his hostess, while her 
 husband, coming in at this moment, seconded 
 her cordial remarks. 
 
 John Hale was, in truth, rather relieved to 
 see Edward Dayton, for, like his daughter, he 
 was finding Ralph Morton's presence here eve- 
 ning after evening rather monotonous. Yet he 
 raised his brows in perplexed disapproval when 
 his wife informed him in the privacy of his 
 dressing room that Edith was "not going to let 
 Ealph come here to call to-night." 
 
 * ' She 's got to stop playing fast and loose with 
 him," the father declared. "She's either got 
 to accept him permanently and definitely or let 
 him go completely."
 
 314 In the Web of Life 
 
 To which remark his wife deemed silence the 
 safest reply. 
 
 Edward Dayton had admired John Hale's 
 daughter ever since he first met her on her re- 
 turn from Europe a year ago, but he had not 
 allowed himself to analyze the sensation of keen 
 chagrin with which he learned of her engage- 
 ment to Ralph Morton. This evening, as he 
 and Edith sat together after dinner in the draw- 
 ing-room, he mentioned her betrothed with the 
 assumed lightness with which he was accus- 
 tomed to conceal any serious feeling. 
 
 "I have been expecting to see Morton enter 
 at any moment," he said. "I am in no hurry 
 to have him come for when he does I must be 
 magnanimous and do as I would want to be done 
 by in similar circumstances and get out. ' ' 
 
 "Why*" Edith asked gravely. 
 
 Her companion laughed embarrassedly. " Be- 
 cause," he replied, "it would be only fair. 
 When a man is engaged, you know, he has a 
 right " 
 
 "Please," she interrupted in a low, pleading 
 tone, "please let me explain to you as to a 
 true friend that which others do not know. 
 Ralph Morton and I are not engaged."
 
 In the Web of Life 315 
 
 "I suppose you mean," the man ventured, 
 ' l that you do not call it yet a regular engage- 
 ment but it is equivalent to one. ' ' 
 
 "It is not!" she denied positively. "I owe 
 you a debt of gratitude although you may not 
 know it so you have a right to the truth which 
 I have confided to nobody else. Ralph Morton 
 and I are not engaged nor shall we ever be, 
 for the best reason in the world I do not love 
 him." 
 
 Edward Dayton strove to suppress any mani- 
 festation of the unreasonable sense of happi- 
 ness that suddenly pervaded his being. But it 
 shone from his eyes as he asked : 
 
 "What do you mean when you speak of ow- 
 ing me a debt of gratitude, Miss Edith? You 
 are surely mistaken. I have never been so for- 
 tunate as to do anything that would merit your 
 gratitude or your friendship." 
 
 ' ' Indeed you have, ' ' she insisted. Then, with 
 downcast eyes, she told him how she had heard 
 him try to divert gossip from her name on the 
 night of the dinner party. "I can never forget 
 your kindness never!" she said. 
 
 Ned Dayton's heart gave a throb of joy as 
 he looked at the girl. After all, she was free.
 
 316 In the Web of Life 
 
 Then were not his chances as good as another 
 man's! He had money and social position 
 yet dare he aspire to the honor of winning this 
 girl's love? As he remained silent she raised 
 her eyes to his. 
 
 "Now you know," she said gently, "why I 
 feel I owe you a debt of kindness." 
 
 He leaned forward eagerly. * ' There is some- 
 thing I would rather have than your kindness," 
 he said, "and that is your friendship, your 
 liking." 
 
 She flashed a radiant smile at him. "You 
 ought to know that you have them already," 
 she told him. 
 
 Friendship, liking these might form a pretty 
 good basis upon which to establish a warmer 
 feeling. Perhaps, after all, the man told him- 
 self, there was hope even for him. 
 
 Edward Dayton stayed so late that Mrs. Hale 
 had gone to her room before he left. But her 
 husband still sat in the library reading when 
 he heard the front door close behind his daugh- 
 ter 's guest. Coming out into the hall the father 
 put his arm about the girl as he kissed her 
 good night. 
 
 "Darling," he said warningly, "that is a
 
 In the Web of Life 317 
 
 nice fellow and an honorable gentleman. Don't 
 flirt with him!" 
 
 Edith returned his scrutinizing gaze steadily. 
 "No, dad," she replied, "I like him too much 
 to flirt with him. But that is just between you 
 and me, please, dad." 
 
 "And what about Ralph?" he asked. "You 
 are forgetting him. ' ' 
 
 "I would like to," she rejoined quickly. 
 "And I shall tell him so to-morrow." 
 
 Before he could question her further she 
 kissed him on the cheek and ran up to her room. 
 As John Hale locked the front door and put out 
 the lights he shook his head. 
 
 "Is she fickle or only facile?" he wondered 
 moodily, * ' and have we, by indulging and hum- 
 oring her, taught her to feel no sense of respon- 
 sibility? Can it be possible," frowning as a 
 gloomy suggestion presented itself, "that we 
 have spoiled our girl as James Morton 's widow 
 has spoiled her boy? But nonsense!" with an 
 impatient movement of the shoulders, as if dis- 
 lodging a disagreeable burden that had been 
 placed there against his will. "With a girl it 
 is different. A girl can stand being indulged. 
 And when the right man comes along Edith will
 
 318 In the Web of Life 
 
 settle down. But I have never felt that Ealph 
 was the right man in spite of some noble 
 qualities. ' ' 
 
 It was from Edith's own lips the next after- 
 noon that Ralph received his final dismissal. 
 She said nothing of the letter she had read, but 
 she would not listen to his pleading. Her eyes 
 were hard and she spoke with a cruelty 
 prompted by hurt vanity, which is more bitter 
 than wounded love. 
 
 "I don't care for you," she said incisively. 
 Then as he attempted a vehement and reproach- 
 ful protest, she threw back her head and 
 laughed. 
 
 " Can't you see, Ralph," she taunted, "that 
 I have been amusing myself all this time I And 
 I'm tired of the game!" 
 
 What had wrought this change ? he wondered 
 as he walked homeward, surrounded by a host 
 of dark thoughts. As he reflected on what she 
 might have discovered, or might yet discover, 
 he was humiliatingly afraid. 
 
 That night he confided to his mother a plan 
 which he said had been in his mind for months. 
 Did she not feel that it would do both him and 
 her good to get away from Homewood? Surely
 
 In the Web of Life 319 
 
 she could afford to use some of her money to 
 take them both out to Los Angeles, where Mrs. 
 Morton's only brother was a prosperous lawyer. 
 Ralph acknowledged that he had always longed 
 to accept his uncle's suggestion, made several 
 years ago, and go into partnership with him. 
 
 He was playing his cards cleverly, for he 
 knew that the widow's desire ever since her 
 husband 's death had been to return to her Cali- 
 fornia home where she had lived until her mar- 
 riage. But her son had always rebelled against 
 the idea. 
 
 "But what about leaving Edith?" she asked 
 tremulously after she had wiped away the tears 
 of happiness that had gushed forth at his sug- 
 gestion. 
 
 "Our engagement is broken," he said briefly. 
 "I do not want to talk of it, mother. I entered 
 rashly into it and I find that I do not love 
 the girl. I acted on the impulse of the moment 
 in asking her to marry me. It was a mistaken 
 sense of chivalry on my part. She sees this 
 now. And, if you love me, mother, say nothing 
 more to me about it. ' ' 
 
 So excited was the mother at the prospect of 
 returning to her old home, and at Ralph's un-
 
 320 In the Web of Life 
 
 selfishness in proposing it, that she suppressed 
 any words of regret at the thought that Edith's 
 money would never be shared by her beloved 
 son.
 
 Chapter Twenty-two 
 
 Tom Morton was going to get well. 
 
 His friends and business associates, inquir- 
 ing in person or by telephone at the hos- 
 pital received this information. Constance Med- 
 ford, calling up, as had been her daily custom 
 for a fortnight, heard the glad news with 
 quickened breath and fast beating heart. 
 Ralph Morton, learning the verdict from Tom's 
 office clerk, whom he chanced to meet on the 
 street, also felt his breath come fast, but his 
 heart sank with a sickening dread, followed by 
 the resolution to "wind up" affairs and get 
 away as soon as possible. This decision 
 prompted him to tell his mother a few hours 
 later that he was arranging to go West with 
 her even earlier than first planned. 
 
 "I want to settle in Los Angeles before 
 Summer really comes, ' ' he explained, ' ' and you 
 will find the trip beautiful in June when the 
 country is in its fresh verdure." 
 
 Once more his mother rejoiced in her son's 
 unselfish thought of her welfare. She mused 
 321;
 
 324 In the Web of Life 
 
 Then he asked eagerly, first of all, about 
 Constance. Dr. Sheffield had told him that it 
 was she who had found him. How had she 
 known that he was hurt? What was she doing 
 out alone at that time of the night? Listening 
 to the questions of this man who had just re- 
 turned from the brink of the grave, John Hale 
 knew that he was not deceiving him, knew 
 with a swift insight that he had always been 
 the honorable gentleman that he had believed 
 him to be before Ealph Morton had maligned 
 him. So he himself replied directly, honestly, 
 relating the story of Constance's behavior as 
 far as he knew it, making no excuses for his 
 own part in it, only giving the facts. The 
 honesty of the sufferer drew from him a sim- 
 ilar honesty. 
 
 "I could not understand the girl's action 
 and I do not understand it since she had had 
 no message from you that you were coming. 
 Unless ' ' struck by an illuminating idea * ' she 
 heard me telephone you." 
 
 "She may have done so," Tom murmured. 
 Then he was silent. The other, watching him, 
 saw the lips take on a moved, tender curve 
 the expression that a man might wear who ap-
 
 In the Web of Life 325 
 
 predated what a good, pure woman had done 
 to save him. As this thought came to the eld- 
 erly man it was followed by the swift mental 
 query: "Save him from what? Who or what 
 could harm him? Who else knew that he was 
 on the road to Homewood that night? Who 
 besides Martha and Edith?" 
 
 And as startling came the recollection that 
 Ralph was aware that the master of the house 
 had summoned Tom that evening. For an in- 
 stant he was glad that his companion's eyes 
 were bandaged, for he felt the color leave his 
 own face. At last he broke the silence with a 
 question to which he tried to give a casual 
 sound. 
 
 "Will you tell me what you remember of 
 your accident?" 
 
 Tom spoke reluctantly. "Not very much," 
 he said. "I was driving rapidly. I saw the 
 light of an automobile at the roadside. I 
 sounded my horn. I saw T a figure leap for- 
 ward, the hand raised in the air, I felt a flash 
 as of fire across my eyes and all went black." 
 
 "Did you recognize the figure?" asked the 
 older man hoarsely. 
 
 "I am not sure," Tom replied. "I would
 
 324 In the Web of Life 
 
 Then he asked eagerly, first of all, about 
 Constance. Dr. Sheffield had told him that it 
 was she who had found him. How had she 
 known that he was hurt? What was she doing 
 out alone at that time of the night? Listening 
 to the questions of this man who had just re- 
 turned from the brink of the grave, John Hale 
 knew that he was not deceiving him, knew 
 with a swift insight that he had always been 
 the honorable gentleman that he had believed 
 him to be before Ralph Morton had maligned 
 him. So he himself replied directly, honestly, 
 relating the story of Constance's behavior as 
 far as he knew it, making no excuses for his 
 own part in it, only giving the facts. The 
 honesty of the sufferer drew from him a sim- 
 ilar honesty. 
 
 "I could not understand the girl's action 
 and I do not understand it since she had had 
 no message from you that you were coming. 
 Unless" struck by an illuminating idea ''she 
 heard me telephone you." 
 
 "She may have done so," Tom murmured. 
 Then he was silent. The other, watching him, 
 saw the lips take on a moved, tender curve 
 the expression that a man might wear who ap-
 
 In the Web of Life 325 
 
 predated what a good, pure woman had done 
 to save him. As this thought came to the eld- 
 erly man it was followed by the swift mental 
 query: "Save him from what? Who or what 
 could harm him? Who else knew that he was 
 on the road to Honiewood that night? Who 
 besides Martha and Edith?" 
 
 And as startling came the recollection that 
 Ralph was aware that the master of the house 
 had summoned Tom that evening. For an in- 
 stant he was glad that his companion's eyes 
 were bandaged, for he felt the color leave his 
 own face. At last he broke the silence with a 
 question to which he tried to give a casual 
 Bound. 
 
 "Will you tell me what you remember of 
 your accident?" 
 
 Tom spoke reluctantly. "Not very much," 
 ho said. "I was driving rapidly. I saw the 
 light of an automobile at the roadside. I 
 sounded my horn. I saw a figure leap for- 
 ward, the hand raised in the air, I felt a flash 
 as of fire across my eyes and all went black." 
 
 "Did you recognize the figure?" asked the 
 older man hoarsely. 
 
 "I am not sure," Tom replied. "I would
 
 326 In the Web of Life 
 
 rather not think of it. It is done now. I do 
 not I do not feel about some things as I 
 would have felt once." He tried to smile. 
 "I've had lots of time to think since I came 
 here and I see some things in a clearer light 
 than I used to. What good would it do to in- 
 vestigate my accident? None at all!" 
 
 "But there is one thing more you must tell 
 me," insisted John Hale. "I promise not to 
 use it. What did the figure hold in its upraised 
 hand?" 
 
 "I did not see," replied Tom. "But I did 
 not send for you to talk about myself, but to 
 ask you about Miss Medford. Where is she?" 
 
 The nurse found her patient strangely ex- 
 cited when she returned to him after his call- 
 er's departure. 
 
 "I must get well," he told her feverishly. 
 "Everything depends upon it." 
 
 "Oh, no," she soothed, her fingers on his 
 pulse. "Not everything." 
 
 1 ' Yes everything ! " he insisted. And as she 
 did not want to excite him further she did not 
 contradict him.
 
 In the Web of Life 327 
 
 "You must try to keep calm and patient if 
 you would be well soon," she warned him. 
 
 He started to speak impetuously, then 
 thought better of it. 
 
 "I will try," he promised, meekly.
 
 Chapter Twenty-three 
 
 "Edith," John Hale said at dinner on the 
 evening after his interview with Tom Morton, 
 "I want to talk with you in the library when 
 Ned Dayton goes away. For, ' ' with a quizzical 
 smile, "I suppose he is coming to-night, as 
 usual?" 
 
 "Yes, I think he is," the girl stammered, 
 blushing. ' ' You don 't mind, do you I ' ' 
 
 "Oh, no," her father replied. "I suppose 
 there must always be some one who is atten- 
 tive to you. I should think you would get 
 weary of it after a while. ' ' 
 
 Which speech showed that he did not under- 
 stand his daughter. However, Edith only 
 laughed and blushed again. 
 
 ' ' I did get tired of the others, ' ' she acknowl- 
 edged, "but I don't of Ned." 
 
 "That is not yet," her father rejoined 
 dryly. 
 
 It was not of Edward Dayton that he spoke 
 when she joined him in the library later in the 
 evening. John Hale had intimated to his wife 
 
 328
 
 In the Web of Life 329 
 
 that he would like to see his daughter alone, 
 and the mother, thinking that he wanted to 
 question Edith about her latest love affair, 
 withdrew with some trepidation and many 
 hopes that he would let "the poor child" fol- 
 low the dictates of her heart. "For she did 
 not love either Tom or Balph," the matron 
 reflected as she made ready for bed. "And if 
 Ned is the man she does love why not let her 
 have her own way?" 
 
 The pair downstairs were not talking of 
 love. Seriously and dispassionately, John 
 Hale explained to Edith his reasons for think- 
 ing that Constance had held no communication 
 with Tom Morton except in reply to his tele- 
 gram, the contents of which Tom himself had 
 told him this afternoon. Tom had also re- 
 peated to Mr. Hale, as nearly as he could re- 
 member it, Constance's reply to the telegram. 
 Edith was much interested. Although the de- 
 tails brought back to her distinctly her two for- 
 mer love episodes, she did not seem embar- 
 rassed by the recollection. She would have 
 said that she was not foolishly sensitive in such 
 matters a statement which no one who knew 
 her could deny.
 
 330 In the Web of Life 
 
 Nor, now that it was all over, did she cherish 
 any animosity against Constance, but was quite 
 ready to believe that Ralph had exaggerated in 
 saying that her cousin was untrustworthy. 
 
 "I know very well that he can lie when it 
 suits him!" she informed her father, showing 
 heated resentment for the only time during 
 the conversation. For a fleeting instant she 
 remembered Ralph's treachery to her, and the 
 sore spot in her vanity was touched by the 
 recollection. 
 
 1 * How do you know f ' ' her father questioned. 
 
 "I would rather not tell you, dad," she said. 
 "When a thing is disagreeable I try to forget 
 it as soon as possible." 
 
 Her father looked at her thoughtfully, ap- 
 preciating that she had uttered a pregnant 
 truth about her own character. She would not 
 think of painful matters, nor would she do 
 anything that would bring her discomfort. The 
 parent chided himself for thinking of the 
 proverb "Light come, light go," in connection 
 with his daughter. She was but a child yet 
 how lightly children could play with hearts! 
 He turned his thoughts quickly into a different 
 channel.
 
 In the Web of Life 331 
 
 " There are one or two other things I want 
 to ask you, little girl," he observed. "Try to 
 tell me all that Ralph said when he stopped to 
 see you on his way home on the night of Tom's 
 accident. ' ' 
 
 She told him all that she could remember, 
 but it threw no light on the problem that was 
 puzzling him. 
 
 "He was alone, wasn't he?" the father asked. 
 
 "Oh, yes entirely alone. And he stopped 
 for only a minute or so." 
 
 "Did he have any parcels or anything in 
 his runabout that would have shown where he 
 had been?" 
 
 "No," Edith replied, "but he said he had 
 been to the drug store. I did not look for any 
 parcels though he may have had some in his 
 car. But there was nothing there I think" 
 she stopped, frowning, trying to recall an elu- 
 sive memory "except Oh, yes, I remember 
 now, for it seemed such a funny thing to carry 
 in an automobile! I saw a tassel sticking out 
 so I looked to see what it was on, and I saw 
 it was a long, curled-up horsewhip." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 The ejaculation was so sudden and vehement
 
 332 In the Web of Life 
 
 that the girl started violently. "Why, dad," 
 she exclaimed, "What's the matter?" 
 
 "Nothing," he said, quickly. "Nothing at 
 all. That's enough now, dear. Eun away to 
 bed." 
 
 Left alone, John Hale sat long, thinking out 
 the chain of evidence that seemed to have been 
 laid ready to his hand. At the end of an hour 
 he sighed impatiently. 
 
 "And I can't use it!" he regretted. "Tom 
 made me promise not to talk to anybody about 
 his affairs. If I tell him the facts which I have 
 learned, or which I suspect, he'll do nothing 
 about it. Perhaps ' ' with a sudden inspiration 
 "he knows or suspects it already." 
 
 Many surprising suggestions had come to 
 this elderly man during the past few hours, and 
 another one presented itself at this moment. 
 
 "I wonder," he exclaimed as the vivid idea 
 took form before his mental vision, "I wonder 
 if that's why Ralph took his mother away 
 because Tom is getting well and the scoundrel 
 is afraid of him! Well, Ralph's fooled us all, 
 and now he's gone! Even if he had stayed 
 we couldn't punish him without hurting his 
 mother. That's always the way with the ras-
 
 In the Web of Life 333 
 
 cals in this world there's always a mother, or 
 wife, or some other innocent person who'll be 
 worse hurt than the guilty ones if they get 
 what they deserve!" 
 
 He was silent for a while. Then he sighed 
 again and rose to his feet. 
 
 "And poor old Tom has had it all to bear 
 alone, and there's nothing I can do for him. 
 But yes, there is too I can find Constance! 
 At least I can try. And if I'm not mistaken 
 that's the biggest kindness I could do for him. 
 For, if I know the signs on a man's face, and 
 I think I do, Tom loves Constance. I had 
 hoped that Edith would take him, and I know 
 he thought he loved her; yet" with a shake 
 of his head "he never had the look about his 
 mouth when he spoke of Edith that he had 
 when he talked to me of Constance to-day ! ' '
 
 Chapter Twenty-four 
 
 On a warm afternoon in mid-July Mrs. Blair 
 was riding uptown in a Lexington Avenue car. 
 She had been shopping and was tired. More- 
 over, as the lines of her face showed, she was 
 vaguely anxious. Constance was not well. The 
 heat was telling on her, her former governess 
 thought. It was so late in the season that she 
 had secured only a few pupils, and those were 
 not of the class who can afford high-priced les- 
 sons. 
 
 The girl insisted on paying board in spite 
 of her hostess's protestations, indeed had at 
 last silenced further argument on the subject 
 by declaring that if she were not allowed to 
 pay for her food and room she would have to 
 seek other and less desirable quarters. 
 
 So Mrs. Blair had held her peace and had 
 done all within her power to make the child of 
 her old school-fellow comfortable. Her efforts 
 had been appreciated gratefully, and Constance 
 had again and again thanked her for her good- 
 ness. The orphan never complained, yet she 
 
 334
 
 In the Web of Life 335 
 
 had lost flesh and color. If Mrs. Blair had not 
 promised not to betray her charge's secret, she 
 would have been been tempted to confide her 
 anxiety to Constance's relatives. Yet Con- 
 stance insisted that she was "perfectly well." 
 
 The frown of perplexity deepened upon the 
 widow's forehead. Becoming aware of this 
 fact she smoothed the furrow from between her 
 brows and glanced across the aisle at the man 
 opposite her. She started slightly when she 
 found his eyes fixed upon her, and she bowed 
 as he raised his hat. She fancied that his face 
 wore an inquiring look, as if he were cudgeling 
 his brains to recall where he had met her and 
 whether or not he really knew her. 
 
 She was correct in her surmise, for John 
 Hale was trying to remember the name and 
 circumstances that went with that face. Then 
 all at once he knew. He thought of Constance's 
 mother. This was her old friend, the governess 
 of little Constance, the woman whom he had 
 seen years ago in the Medford home. Con- 
 stance had often spoken of her affectionately. 
 Might not the girl be in touch with this inti- 
 mate of years gone by? He crossed the aisle 
 and took the vacant seat beside this new-found
 
 336 In the Web of Life 
 
 acquaintance, lifting his hat again as he did 
 so. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," he said courteously, 
 "but am I mistaken in thinking this is Mrs. 
 Blair ? I am John Hale. ' ' 
 
 To the widow the encounter seemed almost 
 like an answer to her unspoken prayer. But 
 her momentary delight was quickly replaced by 
 the harrowing thought that she had no right 
 to betray to John Hale the whereabouts of his 
 niece, nor under what name she was living at 
 present. Yet as she listened to what the eld- 
 erly man had to say, as she heard him acknowl- 
 edge that there had been a sad misunderstand- 
 ing in the family, a misunderstanding which he 
 regretted deeply and for which he was willing 
 and eager to make amends, Mrs. Blair was 
 sorry for him. When she reached the corner 
 of the street on which she lived, and left the 
 car, he got out, too, walking with her as far 
 as her destination. At the door of the apart- 
 ment house she stopped, for she feared that 
 Constance might even now be at home. She 
 flattered herself that she had not intimated to 
 this man that his niece was living with her.
 
 In the Web of Life 337 
 
 Yet, surely, there could be no harm in deliver- 
 ing to the girl a message from her uncle. 
 
 "Tell Constance," Mr. Hale was saying, 
 "that we all made a horrible mistake, that we 
 are all sorry, that we need her back with us." 
 He ' hesitated. "You might tell her, too," he 
 added, "that I am going to write to her in your 
 care, trusting you to forward the letter to her. 
 That will be better than for me to burden your 
 mind with many messages." 
 
 "He looked so sad that I wanted to cry," 
 Mrs. Blair told Constance that afternoon when 
 the girl came home weary, after a long walk 
 from the house of one of her pupils on the west 
 side of the city. Carfare was not over-plenti- 
 ful just now. Besides, Constance insisted, the 
 exercise was good for her. 
 
 She was silent for some time after she had 
 heard the story of her companion's encounter 
 with John Hale. The shrill screams of the chil- 
 dren playing on the sidewalk came up to her 
 ears for Mrs. Blair's apartment was not in a 
 fashionable part of the city, although the street 
 was respectable. Somehow to-day the young- 
 sters seemed noisier than usual and the clang 
 of the bells of the Lexington avenue cars more
 
 338 In the Web of Life 
 
 frequent and insistent than ever before. Con- 
 stance was depressed and discouraged. She 
 was ashamed to go back to her uncle she 
 would not go back there an avowed failure ! She 
 would try not to think of the matter until she 
 heard from him again. 
 
 Yet she thought of little else all that night 
 and the next day. It was late in the afternoon 
 when a thick envelope came to Mrs. Blair. The 
 widow opened it and drew out an inner envel- 
 ope addressed to "Miss Medford; Kindness of 
 Mrs. Blair." Suddenly recollecting that there 
 was "something" she wished to speak to her 
 maid about, Mrs. Blair slipped from the room. 
 So Constance was alone when she read her 
 letter. 
 
 In spite of some faults, John Hale was every 
 inch a man, and this fact was evident in his let- 
 ter. He began by asking his niece's pardon 
 for his "unwarranted impetuosity and inexcus- 
 able suspicions. ' ' He begged her to let him see 
 her. He told her that her aunt longed for her ; 
 that Edith often wished for her. 
 
 "The child will write to you herself to tell 
 you of her engagement to Edward Dayton, for 
 that is her latest and, I really think, her last
 
 In the Web of Life 339 
 
 love affair," he wrote. "Ralph Morton and his 
 mother have gone west to live. My little girl 
 discovered her mistake in accepting Ealph and 
 broke with him. I never asked her why. I 
 think she does love Ned. He must go to Europe 
 on a business trip in September and has asked 
 to have the marriage take place before then, so 
 that Edith may go with him. 'I would rather 
 not leave her behind,' he told me. And, al- 
 though he is very much in love, I fancied there 
 was a twinkle in his eye as he said it. And, 
 although I am the precious girl's father, I 
 could not repress a smile as I told him I con- 
 sidered this decision wise. 
 
 "But all this is beside the question. We will 
 soon be alone we two old people. And we 
 w r ant you. If you will not forgive us enough to 
 come back to live with us, at least say that you 
 will come to see us." 
 
 Edith's note was affectionate, biit flippant. 
 
 "I am sorry I was cross, Connie," she wrote. 
 "Do let me see you soon. For I am going to 
 be married the first of September to Ned Day- 
 ton and I want to tell you all about it. He is 
 such a dear!" 
 
 Kind and conciliatory as the letters were,
 
 34-O In the Web of Life 
 
 and much as Constance was touched by them, 
 she let them fall to the floor with a sharp pang 
 of disappointment. They did not contain a 
 word about Tom Morton. 
 
 She knew that he had left the hospital. But 
 that was all. She did not dare telephone to 
 his office for fear she might hear the voice she 
 longed yet dreaded to hear. Nor would she call 
 up his apartment for the same reason. She 
 reminded herself often that he might be here 
 in New York, and as she realized that, were this 
 true, she might stand in his presence in an 
 hour's time if she wished to, the blood would 
 rush to her cheeks. Then would follow the 
 swift remembrance that he might be far away, 
 might have started out upon a long journey to 
 regain strength after his illness. And with this 
 thought New York seemed a very empty, deso- 
 late place. 
 
 Ever since she had learned from the hospital 
 that the injured man had been discharged 
 "weak but cured," the attendant said she had 
 been pursued by the desire to see him, coupled 
 with the fear of meeting him. For how could 
 she face him if he suspected the part she had 
 taken in all the happenings that had come so
 
 In the Web of Life 341 
 
 close to tragedy? Now that she had read the 
 news contained in her uncle's letter, she wanted 
 to know more. Why had Ealph Morton gone 
 away? Had he been suspected? At times she 
 told herself that the catastrophe which had so 
 nearly cost Tom his life might, after all, have 
 been only an accident; that Ealph had not, 
 perhaps, been near that part of the road when 
 the car had skidded and crashed down into the 
 stream. But she knew in her heart of hearts 
 that Ealph had been guilty if not in deed, 
 then in desire. 
 
 So overwrought was she this evening that 
 she could not reply to her uncle's letter. She 
 wanted to * * think it over, ' ' she told Mrs. Blair. 
 The next day she sent John Hale a brief note, 
 accompanying it with no hint as to her address, 
 thanking him for his kind appreciation of her 
 affection, asking him to try to forgive her for 
 having made him and her aunt unhappy, but 
 saying that she felt she ought to think long 
 and seriously before changing her present mode 
 of life. She sent her love to her aunt, and en- 
 closed a little note to Edith, congratulating her 
 on her engagement and wishing her all happi- 
 ness.
 
 342 In the Web of Life 
 
 For some days she received no reply to this 
 communication, nor did she write again. Then 
 another letter came from her uncle, urging her 
 to set aside pride and wounded feeling and 
 grant an interview to ' ' the man who loved her 
 best." 
 
 1 ' Pardon me, my dear, ' ' he wrote, " if an old 
 man makes this plea very strong. But as I am 
 an old man, will you not grant it? Will you not 
 tell me where you can be seen for just a few min- 
 utes f Your aunt and I beg this of you. Is it not 
 very little to ask you to grant for love's sake?" 
 
 It was hardly fair, the girl mused, for him to 
 put it in this way. Still, what he said was true. 
 It was very little for her to grant to her only 
 relatives and for the sake of their love. It was 
 also very painfully true that her uncle was the 
 "man who loved her best" in fact, the only 
 man who loved her at all. She smiled sadly as 
 she thought how straight home he had driven 
 the truth, and how it had stabbed her. 
 
 "But he did not know it would hurt," she 
 whispered. "And he has not told me a word 
 about Tom! Dear Heavens if I only knew! 
 But I can't ask!" 
 
 She wrote her uncle a little note, going out to
 
 In the Web of Life 343 
 
 the corner herself to mail it. She would see him 
 to-morrow afternoon at Mrs. Blair's. The 
 widow had told her that she, herself, would be 
 out all day to-morrow. So Constance and her 
 uncle would not be disturbed in their conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 She did not acknowledge even to herself that 
 she thought less of seeing her uncle than of 
 hearing, perhaps, from his lips some news of 
 the man who was never absent from her 
 thoughts. Yet she knew that she could 
 not bring herself to allude to him. If Tom 
 had never cared for her it would be dif- 
 ferent. 
 
 As it was she flushed with shame as she 
 thought how he how they all would despise 
 her if they knew that she had given him her 
 love unsought. 
 
 She was alone the following afternoon when 
 a ring at the front door told her that her uncle 
 had come. She was so nervous that she rose 
 from her seat and went to the window and 
 stood looking out, yet seeing nothing, as she 
 heard the maid answer the bell. Her heart 
 beat violently as she remembered that in her 
 wild talk on the last night she was with her
 
 344 I* 1 *h e Web of Life 
 
 uncle she might have exposed her love for the 
 man whom she had tried to save. 
 
 She turned, yet did not raise her eyes, as the 
 door of the drawing room opened and closed 
 and the newcomer took a step toward her. 
 Then she forced herself to look up, and, as she 
 did so, she drew back with a gasp, covering her 
 face with her hands. 
 
 But a pair of hands stronger than hers 
 grasped her wrists. 
 
 * ' Constance ! Look at me ! " a rich voice com- 
 manded. 
 
 She obeyed, looking into the deep blue eyes 
 that held her gaze. And as she looked she saw 
 such a glow of love that for a moment she could 
 not turn away. 
 
 "You!" she whispered, "youl" 
 
 "Who should it be!" asked Tom Morton, 
 tenderly. 
 
 "But my uncle " she faltered. 
 
 "Your uncle begged you to see the man who 
 loved you best in all the world," Tom mur- 
 mured. "Here he is, Constance. Can you 
 doubt it, my darling!" 
 
 No other hour slips by as quickly as does
 
 In the Web of Life 345 
 
 the hour when two people first acknowledge 
 their love for each other. There is so much to 
 be told, so many questions that the world 
 would call foolish to be asked; so many an- 
 swers too beautiful for the world to under- 
 stand to be given. 
 
 ' ' The life you saved is a poor thing at best, ' ' 
 Tom said at last, "but your acceptance of it 
 makes it gloriously worth while." 
 
 Constance laid a gentle finger on the scar 
 just below his eyes. 
 
 "It's pretty ugly, I'm afraid," Tom said 
 quickly, "but it will get fainter after a while. 
 You don't mind it very much, do you, darling?" 
 
 She smiled happily. "Mind!" she echoed. 
 "Mind! No! Perhaps, after all I rather like 
 it, as it calls my attention to the eyes above 
 it. For when I look at them there shines 
 out " 
 
 She paused. "What?" urged the man. 
 "Tell me, dear!" 
 
 "There shines out," she said softly, her own 
 eyes overflowing with love, " 'the light that 
 never was on sea or land!' " 
 
 THE END
 
 UC SOUTHERN RE 
 
 A 000022232 3