r 
 
 Virginia TerhuneVan deWater
 
 PHOTO BY MARCEAU 
 
 /
 
 The Two Sisters
 
 . UBRAKY. tO9 ANGEU
 
 SHE WAS GOOD TO LOOK AT WITH HER CHEEK WHIPPED 
 PINK BY THE WIND
 
 The Two Sisters 
 
 by 
 Virginia Terhune Van de Water 
 
 Author of ' ' The Shears of Delilah ' ' 
 
 Illustrated 
 
 Hearst's International Library Co. 
 New York 1914
 
 Copyright, 1913, 1914, by 
 THE STAR COMPANY 
 
 Copyright, 1914, by 
 HEARST'S INTERNATIONAL LIBRARY Co. INC.
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER PACK 
 
 I. The Decision i 
 
 II. The Beginning 15 
 
 III. Mrs. Halloran's Lodgings .... 30 
 
 IV. Settling Down 39 
 
 V. Caryl Takes a Position 53 
 
 VI. Caryl Goes Shopping 66 
 
 VII. An Introduction and an Invitation . . 78 
 
 VIII. Delaine Visits Baird's Shop .... 94 
 
 IX. Caryl Tastes Freedom 107 
 
 X. "A Tangled Web" . . . . . .117 
 
 XL Caryl Meets Somerdyke Again . . .131 
 
 XII. An Explanation that Did Not Explain . 143 
 
 XIII. A Motor Ride and a Quarrel . . .151 
 
 XIV. A Bitter Experience 161 
 
 XV. An Evening Trolley Ride . . . .171 
 
 XVI. Caryl Writes to Somerdyke . . . .181 
 
 XVII. A Talk In the Park 196 
 
 XVIII. A River Excursion 211 
 
 XIX. Delaine Appeals to Somerdyke . . . 221 
 
 XX. Ben Hadley 232 
 
 v 
 
 2133474
 
 VI 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XXI. 
 
 contents 
 
 Julia Is Promoted ..... 
 
 PAGE 
 238 
 
 XXII. 
 
 A Gay Evening ..... 
 
 2S1 
 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 XXVI. 
 
 A Telephone Message and a Scheme 
 "A Long Talk" and a Resolution . 
 Delaine Speaks His Mind . 
 A Departure and a Returning . 
 
 . 270 
 . 287 
 . 301 
 317
 
 Illustrations 
 
 "She was good to look at with her cheeks whipped 
 
 pink by the wind." .... Frontispiece 
 
 FACING 
 FACE 
 
 "Caryl lay face downward on the bed, where she 
 
 had thrown herself in tearful protest" . . 48 
 
 "I I beg your pardon, but aren't you Miss Julia 
 
 Marvin?" 102 
 
 "Despite the pleading of her companion, Caryl re- 
 mained firm" 236 
 
 Vll
 
 The Two Sisters
 
 The Two Sisters 
 
 THE DECISION 
 
 WHEN James Marvin's wife died she be- 
 queathed the little money she could call her own 
 to her two daughters, Julia and Caryl. It was 
 only four hundred dollars, yet her husband was 
 conscious of a slight resentment that in disposing 
 of what was left of the sum she had when she 
 married him she should have thought of her 
 daughters rather than of him. 
 
 The fact that he had had the use of several 
 thousands which had come to her from her 
 father's estate, and that she had never asked him 
 to account to her for a cent of it, did not prevent 
 his feeling that his wife had dealt rather unfairly 
 with him when planning for the disposition of her 
 small funds. 
 
 Still, he had set these thoughts aside, and be- 
 fore filling the blank left in the home by his wife's 
 death he counseled his two girls to put away in 
 the savings bank their four hundred dollars.
 
 2 The Two Sisters 
 
 "The cash will come in comfortably later on," 
 he said to them. "Let it lie and gather interest 
 until you are ready to get married. Then there 
 will be enough of it for you to pay for your own 
 wedding clothes and for your own wedding." 
 
 The two girls had followed their frugal 
 father's advice Julia, the elder, willingly; six- 
 teen-year-old, fair-haired Caryl with some rebel- 
 lion and many protests concerning the number of 
 "perfectly lovely things" she could buy with her 
 share of the money if she were allowed. Al- 
 though she had little stability of purpose and an 
 imagination that sometimes got the better of her 
 sense of proportion, she had been her mother's 
 favorite, and during this parent's lifetime had 
 been petted and indulged as the none too happy 
 wife does pet and indulge the child whom she 
 loves better than all the world besides. 
 
 Julia, Caryl's senior by three years, was enter- 
 ing upon her last year in high school. Caryl was 
 still in the final grade of grammar school, from 
 which position she had already seen one class 
 graduate and leave her behind. It was not that 
 she was not clever enough to keep pace with the 
 other scholars had she applied herself sufficiently 
 to do so. "My teacher doesn't understand me," 
 she would say plaintively when she carried home 
 an especially poor report.
 
 The Decision 3 
 
 Her mother, ever ready to stand between her 
 child and the father's displeasure, would smooth 
 the matter over while in her husband's presence, 
 and comfort Caryl when alone with her. Yet, in 
 spite of this daughter's seeming dependence upon 
 her mother, Mrs. Marvin's death produced upon 
 her younger child only a transitory grief. Her 
 facile nature shed sorrow easily, and in less than 
 a fortnight after the funeral she was singing about 
 the house and admiring the contrast of her black 
 dress and clear complexion before the long mirror 
 in the parlor. 
 
 Julia, on the other hand, grew wan and hag- 
 gard under the frightful loneliness of bereave- 
 ment. She had loved her mother with a deep, 
 passionate affection that was fed rather than 
 quenched by the knowledge that she was not the 
 best-beloved daughter. She was not as pretty as 
 her sister, although the thoughtful observer would 
 have found her face more attractive than her 
 sister's doll-like beauty. Her dark hair grew low 
 over her broad forehead, and her gray eyes had 
 depth and seriousness. Caryl was very pretty; 
 Julia was almost handsome. 
 
 It was upon the latter that the burden of sorrow 
 fell when her mother closed tired eyes upon a 
 world that held nothing for her but her children. 
 The husband's grief was of the stormy kind that
 
 4 The Two Sisters 
 
 shows itself in lamentations and self-pity, and in- 
 terferes neither with appetite nor sleep. Caryl 
 sobbed wildly through one whole night, and there- 
 after slumbered as calmly and unbrokenly as ever. 
 
 Mrs. Marvin had died in early September. 
 On the first day of the New Year James Marvin 
 married again. His second wife was as strong 
 and inflexible of will as he was weak and unstable. 
 Even before his remarriage his daughters had 
 formed a dislike for the woman who was destined 
 to take the place that had been their mother's. 
 
 Their father brought their stepmother directly 
 home from the parsonage where the pair had been 
 made one and a new regimen set in. The self- 
 seeking New England woman made no effort to 
 alter Julia's and Caryl's sentiments toward her. 
 
 For a time their father tried feebly and fitfully 
 to keep things smooth between the warring ele- 
 ments in his household. Then he gave up the 
 effort and threw his weak influence on the side of 
 his domineering wife. It was more uncomfort- 
 able to incur her displeasure than to go counter 
 to his daughters' whims and desires, and he took 
 the line of the least resistance. 
 
 The two girls drew closer together in the 
 months that followed upon their father's second 
 matrimonial venture and supported each other 
 vehemently in the open disputes and altercations
 
 The Decision 5 
 
 / 
 
 that came to be a part of their daily life. The 
 breach widened and deepened day by day and the 
 climax was reached one morning early in April 
 when the members of the household were gathered 
 about the breakfast table. Marvin, ill at ease as 
 was his habit when in the company of his daugh- 
 ters; the two girls silent, and Mrs. Marvin hot 
 and fuming from her preparation of the morning 
 meal over the kitchen range. 
 
 The man was visibly more nervous than usual 
 and after a prolonged silence cleared his throat, 
 glanced uneasily at his stern-faced wife, and spoke. 
 
 "Girls, I don't like it that your mother 
 
 should " he began, then paused. For Caryl 
 
 had made a wry face at his use of the title 
 "mother." He saw it, flushed, hesitated, and, with 
 an effort, spoke more firmly. 
 
 "Remember that you're at my table, girls I" he 
 reprimanded. "What I want to say is that I'm 
 not going to have your mother doing all the work 
 of this house while you two fritter away your 
 time in school. And what I say, I mean." 
 
 Julia had been sitting silent, her eyes downcast, 
 apparently absorbed in her own meditations. She 
 had acquired self-control during the months of 
 unhappiness, but she looked at her father now with 
 an expression of surprise mingled with disappoint- 
 ment.
 
 6 The Two Sisters 
 
 "You mean that you are not willing to have me 
 remain at school and graduate?" she asked slowly. 
 
 The man moved uneasily in his chair, met his 
 wife's stern gaze and cleared his throat again. 
 
 "Yes, that's it," he acknowledged awkwardly. 
 "I've been talking the matter over with your 
 mother." There was defiance in the emphasis he 
 placed on this last word. The girl started to 
 speak, but checked the impulse. "We have de- 
 cided," the man went on, "that it's time that you 
 and Caryl were helping her a little and doing 
 something toward earning your own living." 
 
 Caryl spoke quickly. "Then I won't have to 
 go to high school at all?" she asked. There was 
 a note of hope or relief in her tone, and her sister, 
 hearing it, looked at her reproachfully. 
 
 "Caryl," she protested, "it's bad enough for 
 me to have to leave school before my graduation 
 and before the education I expected to have is 
 nearly completed. But as for you, you ought to 
 stay long enough at least to " 
 
 The stepmother interposed impatiently, hard 
 lines about her lips. 
 
 "There you go again!" she exclaimed. "You 
 are just proving, Julia, the truth of what I said 
 last night and this morning about you and your 
 high-falutin notions. I have slaved for you girls 
 all that I'm going to slave. If you don't like the
 
 The Decision 7 
 
 way you're treated here, suppose you go some- 
 where else and try supporting yourself, and see 
 how you like the change 1" 
 
 The elder girl sprang to her feet, the dark 
 color flooding her usually pale face. 
 
 "When my own mother was alive " she be- 
 gan passionately, but her father interrupted her. 
 
 "Now, Julia," he warned nervously, "don't say 
 anything you'll be sorry for! You're very unrea- 
 sonable nowadays. You don't show any apprecia- 
 tion of what's being done for you all the time. It 
 oughtn't to be a hardship to you and Caryl to 
 take care of yourselves from now on. Lots of 
 girls of the age of you two are earning their own 
 livings. If your mother and I felt that we could 
 afford to keep you in school longer we might " 
 
 "It's not a question of what we can afford !" the 
 wife broke in sharply, her black eyes snapping. 
 "I simply say that they've got to work as long as 
 I remain in this house. I am mistress here, and 
 I'll have you all remember that fact!" 
 
 "You needn't bother to remind us of it!" ex- 
 claimed Caryl, pushing her chair back from the 
 table and starting for the door. "If I had my 
 way I wouldn't stay another night under the roof! 
 I hate you!" With which parting outburst she 
 fled sobbing from the room. 
 
 "You couldn't please me better than by getting
 
 8 The Two Sisters 
 
 from under this roof!" her stepmother called 
 after her, her face crimson, her lips twitching. 
 
 Julia, as she heard the challenge, felt the hot 
 tide of rage throbbing in her throat, and with an 
 effort steadied her voice. 
 
 "Father," she said, her forced calmness mak- 
 ing her speak with unnatural deliberation, "since 
 you and your wife feel that you cannot support 
 Caryl and me any longer, and since you would be 
 glad to be rid of us, we will go away and relieve 
 you of the burden of taking care of your own 
 children. We shall be as glad to leave you as you 
 vill be to have us go." 
 
 Her father's resentment flared into the puny 
 rage of a weak man. 
 
 "Go, then, and good riddance to you both !" he 
 burst forth shrilly. "I'm sick to death of your 
 spats and fights day and night, but if you leave 
 my house don't you come back on me for sup- 
 port ! You won't get it, you ungrateful hussy !" 
 
 Pale to the lips, the girl turned and went up- 
 stairs. 
 
 An hour later James Marvin knocked at the 
 door of his daughters' room and entered. Caryl 
 stood at the mirror arranging a new hair ribbon 
 about her yellow curls. Julia sat on the bed. Her 
 eyes were red, and in her left hand she held 
 clenched a crumpled handkerchief, while in her
 
 The Decision 9 
 
 right hand was a cheap little photograph which 
 her father recognized. He prefaced his remarks 
 with the customary clearing of his throat. 
 
 "Girls," he announced, "I was a little out of 
 patience this morning, and I said some things that 
 perhaps I oughtn't to have said. I've come up 
 now to tell you that I'll be willing to have you 
 stay on here with us if you'll do your share 
 toward helping with the housework and with the 
 family income. I can't have you go away and 
 people saying that my daughters won't live with 
 me." 
 
 He tried to smile, but failed. Julia looked at 
 him so gravely and steadily that he shifted his 
 feet uneasily, and his pale eyes wandered about 
 the room avoiding her stern gaze. 
 
 "There were some things said this morning," 
 she answered, in an even voice, "that neither Caryl 
 nor I can forget. We will not put you to the 
 bother of caring for us any longer. Since you 
 evidently fear what the neighbors will say about 
 you and your wife since you are afraid to have 
 them know the truth I will tell you that we are 
 going to New York to work. You can say this 
 to any inquirers, then there will be no opportunity 
 for gossip." 
 
 "You're not treating me and your mother 
 fairly," protested Marvin.
 
 io The Two Sisters 
 
 The girl's calm eyes fell to the photograph she 
 held, and rested there for a long moment. When 
 she raised them again to her father's face the ex- 
 pression he saw in them made him leave the room, 
 slamming the door behind him. 
 
 All through the morning the two sisters dis- 
 cussed their plans for the future. That they 
 would go to New York was a decision that neither 
 of them thought of reconsidering. Caryl was in 
 a flutter of joy at the prospect of life in the 
 great city, and Julia, although older and graver, 
 felt a thrill of pleasant anticipation at the thought 
 of being her own mistress. 
 
 "It will be perfectly lovely!" gushed Caryl. 
 "We will make our living and spend our money 
 as we please. Think of the gorgeous times we will 
 have together in New York! We are sure to 
 meet lots of pleasant people. New York men 
 who come up here on business always look so 
 well-groomed and nice, and then there are the 
 shops and the theaters, and we will have our own 
 little apartment." 
 
 To her, leaving home meant the right to do as 
 she pleased, to spend the money which she was to 
 make (of course, she would make it without 
 trouble !) upon the luxuries that had always been 
 denied her. She would meet charming men, and, 
 finally, with one of them she would enter into that
 
 The Decision n 
 
 state of liberty of mind and body where one is 
 supported and adored which the average girl of 
 her class believes matrimony to be. 
 
 Julia smiled tolerantly at her little sister's rhap- 
 sodies, yet enthusiasm is contagious, and she could 
 not help feeling that New York would be in every 
 way a great improvement upon the provincial 
 New England town in which she had always lived. 
 
 "But this change means hard work," she 
 warned, "harder work than you have ever done in 
 all your life, Caryl." 
 
 "As if I minded that !" scoffed Caryl. "I won't 
 object to work there, for I will be earning money." 
 
 "What kind of work are you going to do?" 
 queried Julia. 
 
 The question staggered the younger girl, but 
 only for a moment. 
 
 "Do? Why, I'll be a stenographer," she re- 
 plied. "They get good salaries and the work is 
 not hard." 
 
 Julia shook her head doubtfully. "You will 
 have to learn the work first," she said. "It takes 
 time and practice to learn stenography and type- 
 writing, and it's expensive. It will take quite a 
 bit of money." 
 
 "I'll learn all right," prophesied the girl con- 
 fidently. "I'll go to some business school and then
 
 12 The Two Sisters 
 
 it will be easy to get a job. I've money enough 
 to learn all that's necessary." 
 
 To Caryl the four hundred dollars which she 
 and Julia had in the savings bank seemed a for- 
 tune, and even her more practical sister thought 
 with a glow of satisfaction that they would go to 
 the city with ample funds to maintain them until 
 they could get work that would enable them to 
 support themselves even if they did not get such 
 work immediately. 
 
 That evening before supper, as James Marvin 
 was passing through the upper hall of his home, 
 his daughters' door opened and Julia spoke to 
 him. 
 
 "Would you mind coming in here for a moment, 
 father?" she asked. "There is a little matter we 
 wish to talk to you about." 
 
 As he followed her suggestion he saw that a 
 trunk that had belonged to his first wife stood in 
 the middle of the room. Caryl knelt before it 
 packing in it the last of her belongings. 
 
 "Since we are going away," said Julia, without 
 further preliminary, "Caryl and I think that the 
 sooner we start the better. What we want to ask 
 you is that, since the money we have in the bank 
 is deposited in your name in trust for us, you will 
 please draw it out for us to-morrow morning." 
 
 James Marvin caught his breath. He had not
 
 The Decision 13 
 
 thought that matters would come to this pass so 
 soon. Had his daughters wept and moaned he 
 would have known better how to deal with them. 
 In the face of their calm determination he was 
 strangely embarrassed. 
 
 "Now, girls," he protested weakly, "don't be 
 hasty about this. Your mother I mean my wife 
 and I don't feel that it is right that you should 
 go off with hard feelings between us. Take a 
 week or so to think it over." 
 
 "We couldn't think it over more if we waited 
 for a year, father," answered Julia firmly. "We 
 are going to-morrow afternoon. Will you get 
 the money for us in the morning?" 
 
 "Of course," said the man, "it's yours, and I'm 
 willing to draw it out for you whenever you want 
 it. But, see here, I hate to have you go like this. 
 Let bygones be bygones and let's make up, and 
 you stay on here and get work if you want to. 
 You'll be lots more comfortable than you would 
 in a strange place. I'll make it all right with 
 your mother, and she'll be willing to make another 
 try at our living here together." 
 
 The regret in his tone was so genuine that for 
 a moment Julia hesitated, but Caryl forestalled 
 any compromise her sister might have contem- 
 plated. 
 
 "Upon my word, father," she exclaimed, "to
 
 14 The Two Sisters 
 
 hear you talk anyone would think that we were 
 going away of our own accord! You know as 
 well as I do that it's that wife of yours who's 
 driving us from home, that she said she'd be glad 
 to have us go ! Perhaps you think that all this is 
 only a whim of ours this going away to New 
 York. But it isn't!" Then, her anger rising as 
 she talked, she burst forth with a violence that 
 surprised her father and sister. "I'd rather go 
 to jail than live with that woman any longer! 
 That's all there is to it!" 
 
 Her sharp tongue had banished the last chance 
 of reconciliation. Julia saw her father's eyes 
 narrow and his face flush. 
 
 "If you think I'm going to ask you to stay, you 
 ungrateful piece," he blustered, "you're much 
 mistaken! If you want to go, then go! I'm 
 through with you. Maybe I'll have a little com- 
 fort with you out of the house. Julia, I'll draw 
 that money for you in the morning." 
 
 He hurried out of the room, and Caryl laughed 
 with relief as she looked into her sister's per- 
 turbed countenance. 
 
 "I thought I would make him let us go I" she 
 said lightly.
 
 II 
 
 THE BEGINNING 
 
 WHEN there was anything practical to be done 
 by the Marvin sisters it was Julia who took the 
 initiative. It was she, therefore, who, after mak- 
 ing inquiries of a friend who had worked at one 
 time in New York, decided to send a special de- 
 livery to a certain home in the great city, asking 
 for accommodations for Caryl and herself until 
 they could secure work and a permanent abiding 
 place. 
 
 The address of this temporary abode was in 
 Julia's little handbag, and she referred to it as she 
 and Caryl emerged from Grand Central Station on 
 the afternoon on which the pair reached New 
 York. This same address had been given to the 
 "baggage-express man" who had passed through 
 the train, and he had promised to try to get their 
 trunk to their room that same evening. 
 
 "I know," said Julia, hesitatingly, "that there 
 is a line of cars here which will take us down- 
 town. Oh, I wish I knew more about New York!"
 
 1 6 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Well, as you don't," proposed Caryl, 
 "wouldn't it be well to be on the safe side and 
 hire a cab? Let's see, this is Forty-second Street, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 She looked about her curiously, but not timidly. 
 To her the whole journey and all that lay beyond 
 it seemed an exciting adventure. 
 
 "Why not?" she mused, "for in New York peo- 
 ple make money very fast." 
 
 Julia's voice broke in upon her fancies. "Clara 
 Dayton told me to take the Madison Avenue car 
 down to Twenty-third Street, then to w,alk down 
 to the home," she said. "Come on, dear, we can't 
 stand here staring any longer. We must make the 
 plunge." 
 
 Guided by a kindly policeman, the girls crossed 
 the street, but when they had reached the opposite 
 sidewalk and a taxicab driver held up his finger 
 inquiringly, Caryl grasped her sister's arm sud- 
 denly. 
 
 "See there, Julia !" she exclaimed. "There's 
 one of those cabs that we've heard so much about! 
 I want to take it. Do let's get in it!" 
 
 But Julia shook her head and started on. "Not 
 that one, Caryl," she replied hastily. "Come 
 ahead with me and I'll explain." And, as the 
 other obeyed reluctantly, Julia told her that she 
 had been warned that it was not safe for a young
 
 The Beginning 17 
 
 woman to get into any cab that she might chance 
 to meet. 
 
 "Some of those drivers are employed by bad 
 people," she said. "I have heard that they lure 
 young women away to dreadful places. Clara 
 Dayton told me so, and said that if I ever was ill, 
 or anything like that, and needed a cab, to go to a 
 regular stand for one." 
 
 Caryl laughed contemptuously. "Ridiculous!" 
 she declared. "As if two grown-ups could be 
 fooled as a pair of silly children might be ! At 
 any rate, I'm going to have my own way about 
 the matter, so you may as well look up a cab-stand 
 now, for I mean to ride downtown in something 
 besides a common old street car." 
 
 They had not far to look, for a row of taxis 
 standing at the side of a hotel had caught Caryl's 
 eye and she piloted her sister toward one of these. 
 
 "What will it cost to take us to this place?" 
 asked Julia, showing the man the card bearing the 
 address which was her destination. 
 
 "That depends on how many miles it is," he 
 replied. "The indicator there will show you how 
 far you've gone when we stop." 
 
 "But can't you give us any idea of the price?" 
 began Julia, but Caryl jumped into the cab and 
 seated herself. 
 
 "Oh, come on!" she called gaily. "Don't
 
 1 8 The Two Sisters 
 
 bother about the expense. We've got money 
 enough to blow in on a ride now and then I 
 guess!" 
 
 Her tones rang out clearly, and the chauffeur 
 grinned as he took his seat. A man passing 
 paused, looked at the girls, lifted his hat and 
 smiled. Caryl flushed brightly, but laughed. As 
 the cab started Julia turned upon her sharply. 
 
 "We may as well begin as we mean to keep on, 
 Caryl," she warned her, "and as I am older than 
 you I have a right to insist that you do not behave 
 in this way any more. In the first place, this is 
 an extravagance, and it's wrong for us to set a 
 pace that we cannot keep." 
 
 Caryl pouted. "Half of what the cab costs will 
 be paid by me," she reminded her companion. "So 
 you need not talk as if you were paying for every- 
 thing, or for more than your share. And this one 
 ride isn't going to make or break either of us 
 so why not enjoy it? Come, Julia, don't be 
 cross!" 
 
 She laid her hand on her sister's arm, and the 
 older girl spoke more gently. 
 
 "I'm not cross, sis," she replied. "But you do 
 not appreciate how indiscreet you are, and it star- 
 tled me to see that man speak to us just now. If 
 you hadn't raised your voice as you did he 
 wouldn't have noticed us. You must be more
 
 The Beginning 19 
 
 careful, for you don't know anything about the 
 kind of men you may meet here in a strange city." 
 
 But the younger girl only laughed at her sis- 
 ter's anxiety. "Poor Julia !" she exclaimed. 
 "You do take things so hard! You say that we 
 may as well begin as we mean to go on. Very 
 well, I agree with you there. The way I mean to 
 go on is to get all the fun I can out of life. If a 
 man lifts his hat just because I happen to speak a 
 little loudly I can't help it. So don't get peeved 
 over such small things. Let's have a good time 
 together in spite of father, stepmother, and work. 
 Do let's be sensible!" 
 
 "That's what I'm trying to be," said the other 
 gravely. 
 
 "Being sensible isn't looking as solemn as you 
 do now," teased Caryl. "Please smile !" 
 
 And, gazing into the merry eyes, the older sis- 
 ter smiled in spite of vague misgivings. 
 
 Julia Marvin lost no time in seeking work. 
 She had hoped at first to get a position in one of 
 the fashionable stores, but found that this was 
 not as easy as she had supposed. She had had no 
 experience and knew nobody in New York to 
 whom she could refer as to her honesty and 
 ability. 
 
 She decided that she would write to her home
 
 2O The Two Sisters 
 
 town for a letter of recommendation from the 
 clergyman whose church she always attended, and, 
 armed with his reply to her request, she sought 
 out a large department store which was not 
 counted among the "swell emporiums" of the city. 
 
 Here she was given an application to fill in, 
 and after a day or two of waiting she received 
 the comforting news that there would be a vacancy 
 which she might take the next week. The salary 
 at first would be ten dollars and a half, paid 
 every half month in other words, only twenty- 
 one dollars a month besides which she would 
 receive a commission of one cent on every dollar's 
 worth she sold. 
 
 "What starvation pay!" exclaimed Caryl when 
 she heard this. "And in such a common store, 
 too ! You're a chump to take such a place." 
 
 "I don't agree with you!" retorted Julia. 
 "Baird's is, at least, a respectable store, and I 
 have to begin on a little wherever I go." 
 
 "Well," declared Caryl, "I wouldn't work in a 
 store, but if I did I would choose one where I 
 could see all the gorgeously dressed people com- 
 ing in and out. Oh," with a sigh, "things aren't 
 fair in this world, anyway. Look at all the stun- 
 ning clothes some people have, and here we are 
 you, with a poor little job in prospect, and me 
 trying to get ready to go to work."
 
 The Beginning 21 
 
 "It's time you began, dear," Julia reminded 
 her. "We have been here for almost a fortnight 
 and you have done nothing except walk about and 
 look in the shop windows." 
 
 "Well, I wanted to see a little of the city be- 
 fore settling down," Caryl explained. "As it is, 
 we haven't been anywhere in the evenings, but 
 have just sat cooped up here in this room read- 
 ing." 
 
 "That is where we ought to have stayed," re- 
 plied Julia. "Our time in this house will be up 
 soon and I must look around again for other 
 quarters. I haven't seen a thing I like yet. The 
 cheap places are so dirty!" 
 
 Caryl shuddered. "They're dreadful!" she ex- 
 claimed. "I don't see why you need be so stingy, 
 Julia. We have our money from the bank besides 
 what we may earn." 
 
 Julia looked grave. "See here, Caryl," she 
 said, "our fare to New York, the transferring of 
 our baggage, the car fares since we have been 
 here and our board and room have taken a good 
 bit of that money." 
 
 "And we have nothing to show for it!" inter- 
 rupted the other. 
 
 "That has nothing to do with the matter," con- 
 tinued Julia. "I want you to remember that you 
 have to pay for your lessons in stenography, if
 
 22 The Two Sisters 
 
 you still insist that that is the kind of work you 
 want to do." 
 
 She paused hopefully, but Caryl only nodded 
 affirmation of the statement, and the sister hur- 
 ried on. 
 
 "You must begin at once on your lessons and 
 lay aside now the price of these. Then you will 
 have to live on what money will be left and what 
 I can make. Think of that, please." 
 
 "I don't want you to support me!" Caryl re- 
 sented. "It's not kind of you to say you'll have 
 to do it." 
 
 "Then what are you going to do about it? 
 You might, of course, get work in a store, and go 
 to night school for your lessons, but that would 
 be pretty hard for you." 
 
 The younger girl shook her head. "I just will 
 not be a common shop girl!" she insisted. Then, 
 starting to her feet, she began putting on her hat. 
 
 "Come on!" she said, "let's go up to that busi- 
 ness college you heard of and make our plans. 
 After that's done, we'll look for a decent room. 
 The thought of the kind we've seen makes me 
 sick." 
 
 Without a word the older girl got ready for 
 the expedition. Caryl's ill-temper was short- 
 lived, and had vanished before her interview with 
 the head of the business school to which their
 
 The Beginning 23 
 
 steps had been directed. At the end of five min- 
 utes' talk she had engaged to take a six months' 
 course in stenography, for which she was to pay 
 sixty dollars, in four installments the first on 
 admission to the school. 
 
 "I shall begin next week when you go to work," 
 she informed her sister on their way downtown. 
 "You see, when I have laid aside my money for 
 my lessons, I will still have somewhere around a 
 hundred and fifty dollars left." 
 
 Her sister forebore to ask her how she ex- 
 pected to live and dress for a half year on that. 
 What was the use? No matter what she said it 
 would end in the older girl's helping the younger 
 one. She had always done this since Caryl was a 
 baby. 
 
 It was to please Caryl that she at last took a 
 room for which they must pay more than she felt 
 was prudent. It was on West Twenty-second 
 Street, up two flights of stairs. It was of a fair 
 size, steam-heated in winter, and there was a sink 
 with running water in the hall outside the door. 
 
 "We can prepare our breakfasts here, I sup- 
 pose?" asked Julia of the landlady, who showed 
 them the room. 
 
 "Well, yes," she answered, "if you don't make 
 any mess. That is, you can boil a little coffee over 
 an alcohol lamp. Or, if you are nice quiet lodgers,
 
 24 The Two Sisters 
 
 you might sometimes run into my kitchen to make 
 your coffee." 
 
 "Oh, thank you !" said Julia. "And is there a 
 restaurant near here?" 
 
 "There's a good eating place on the next block," 
 said the woman. "You can get a meal ticket for 
 two meals a day at three and a half a week. But 
 I guess you'll lunch where you work. Most young 
 ladies do." 
 
 "Well," mused Caryl, as they walked east on 
 Twenty-second Street, "it isn't much of a place, 
 but I suppose it's the best we can do on the money 
 we have." 
 
 "It's better than we can really afford to do," 
 returned Julia. Then, as she saw the cloud of 
 discontent gathering on her sister's brow, she 
 turned the conversation into other channels. 
 
 Julia and Caryl Marvin walked along in si- 
 lence for some blocks after leaving the house in 
 which they had just rented a room. It was late in 
 the afternoon and street lights and electric signs 
 were beginning to combat the gathering gloom. 
 
 At Broadway, as they turned south toward 
 their present home, the roar of late afternoon 
 traffic made speech impossible. Motor cars 
 threaded their way through the shifting confusion 
 of trucks, buses and trolleys; brightly illumined 
 windows displayed articles from all corners of
 
 The Beginning 25 
 
 the globe; far up Broadway a pulsating electric 
 sign proclaimed persistently the name of the latest 
 theatrical success. Daintily gowned women 
 passed accompanied by well groomed men, and 
 scraps of conversation and an occasional laugh 
 mingled with the clatter of vehicles and the never 
 ceasing roar of the city. The girls passed through 
 the crowd and at last turned into a dingy side 
 street that seemed dark and quiet after the noise 
 and glitter of the city's greatest thoroughfare. 
 Caryl was the first to break the silence between 
 herself and her sister. 
 
 "I think it's all horrid!" she announced sud- 
 denly. 
 
 "What's the matter now?" demanded Julia. 
 She spoke sharply, for she was hungry and tired, 
 and her feet ached from much walking. She was 
 finding it difficult to lend a uniformly sympathetic 
 ear to th younger girl's many complaints. 
 
 "This life we are leading," Caryl replied pet- 
 tishly. "We are having a stupider time here than 
 we did in our own little town. I am beginning to 
 hate New York. Sometimes I wish I was back at 
 home!" 
 
 "Caryl Marvin!" Julia exclaimed, halting in 
 amazement. "You don't mean that." 
 
 "Yes, I do!" retorted Caryl, "and if I think 
 New York is horrid it is all your fault. Here we
 
 26 The Two Sisters 
 
 are with plenty of money and we live in a place 
 that's about as exciting as a church. We haven't 
 been to the theater since we came here. Then, 
 when we decide to move, you take a nasty old 
 room in a mean old street in a house that smells of 
 cabbage and stale dinners. Why can't we have a 
 little fun, even if we do have to earn our own 
 living?" 
 
 Julia laid her hand on her sister's arm, and the 
 two resumed their walk. It was several moments 
 before the older girl could trust herself to speak. 
 
 "I am sorry you feel as you do, Caryl," she 
 said at last. "I thought we understood each other 
 thoroughly when we came here. I came to make 
 my own living. You evidently came for a vaca- 
 tion. If you would consider the fact that when 
 your money is gone I shall have to support you 
 until you are able to take a position, you might 
 not feel as you do about my economizing. As to 
 your being tired of New York already I don't 
 know what I can do to help that. I certainly am 
 not going to consent to your spending the little 
 money you possess in having a good time. You 
 might write to father and see if he will let you 
 come home." 
 
 Caryl shook off Julia's grasp upon her arm and 
 again came to a standstill. 
 
 "I can't do that, and you know that I can't,"
 
 The Beginning 27 
 
 she muttered rebelliously, tears coming to her 
 eyes. 
 
 "We won't gain anything by standing here on 
 the street arguing about it," replied her sister, her 
 voice cold and hard. "Come on home, and, if 
 you insist upon continuing this discussion, we can 
 do- so there in the privacy of our own room." 
 
 She walked ahead, her cheeks flushed, angry 
 words trembling on her lips. Caryl followed, a 
 few paces behind her. Tears of loneliness and 
 discouragement half blinded the older girl as she 
 reached the avenue beyond which lay their des- 
 tination. "I can't stand this kind of thing! It 
 isn't fair!" she whispered over and over to her- 
 self. She collided with some one on the curb, 
 but was too deeply immersed in her own unhappy 
 thoughts to pause to apologize. 
 
 She was half-way across the avenue when the 
 sudden bleat of an automobile horn and a shrill 
 scream behind her made her gasp with terror. 
 She turned so quickly that the speeding taxicab 
 brushed her skirts and the driver shouted an oath 
 at her but she did not heed it. 
 
 For on the curb she had just left stood Caryl, 
 supported by a tall man in a gray overcoat. Julia 
 sprang toward them. 
 
 "Oh, Caryl!" she cried, "are you hurt?" 
 
 The man smiled reassuringly and lifted his hat.
 
 28 The Two Sisters 
 
 "I think she is only badly scared," he said pleas- 
 antly. "I am afraid I was a little sudden and 
 rough, but I had to grab her pretty quick or she 
 would have been struck." 
 
 "No, Julia," answered Caryl unsteadily, "I was 
 frightened that's all. I would have been killed 
 if it hadn't been for this gentleman," she added, 
 smiling up into her rescuer's face. 
 
 "We are more grateful to you than we can ever 
 say," stammered Julia. 
 
 The man nodded easily as he released his hold 
 on the younger girl and turned to go. 
 
 "Please don't be grateful," he said. "It was 
 only my good luck that you need be thankful for. 
 I'm glad I happened along just in the nick of 
 time." 
 
 "But," said Caryl shyly, "won't you tell us 
 your name? We'd like to " 
 
 The man interrupted her with a boyish laugh 
 and shook his head. 
 
 "I did a mere nothing good night!" he an- 
 swered over his shoulder as he swung away down 
 the avenue. 
 
 The nausea of reaction was gripping Julia when 
 she reached the farther curb. She felt dizzy and 
 faint, and her heart sank under the recurring 
 thought of the responsibility resting upon her. 
 
 "Caryl, dear," she faltered, "we'll go back
 
 The Beginning 29 
 
 home and get work there. We'll go anywhere 
 rather than stay in this awful city." 
 
 Caryl looked at her in surprise. Her cheeks 
 were glowing and her eyes bright. 
 
 "Go away?" she repeated. "Oh, no! I want 
 to stay in New York. Oh, Julia wasn't he hand- 
 some and and lovely?"
 
 Ill 
 
 MRS. HALLORAN'S LODGINGS 
 
 TOWARD the end of their second week in New 
 York Julia and Caryl Marvin packed their few 
 belongings, surrendered their trunk to an express- 
 man who was to take it to their new rooms, and 
 said good-bye to the kind-faced matron of the 
 home at which they had been staying. 
 
 "I am sorry to have you leave us, Miss Mar- 
 vin," this woman assured Julia, pressing her hand 
 warmly. "It doesn't seem right that we are al- 
 lowed to shelter the inexperienced girls like you 
 and your sister for only a fortnight, and then let 
 them go their lonely way. But with the constant 
 demands we have made upon us for rooms there 
 is nothing else that we can do. Good-bye and if 
 I can help you at any time, please let me know." 
 
 To Caryl, the matron gave only a rather cool 
 handshake and a brief word of farewell. She was 
 a woman who, by stilted and careful speech, tried 
 to conceal the deficiencies in her early education, 
 and she suspected the younger girl of making fun 
 of her behind her back. 
 
 30
 
 Mrs. Halloran's Lodgings 31 
 
 "She's a horrid cat!" declared Caryl to her 
 sister as the door of the home closed behind 
 them. "Thank heaven we are free of her!" 
 
 "Oh, Caryl," Julia protested, "she is very kind, 
 and was always most pleasant to us." 
 
 "Pleasant!" sniffed Caryl. "She got on my 
 nerves always snooping around to see if we had 
 been doing something we shouldn't do! I am 
 tired of having people look after me." 
 
 She drew down the corners of her mouth and 
 wrinkled her nose in imitation of the matron's 
 expression of countenance. " 'Young ladies !' ' 
 she mimicked in a high-pitched voice, " 'I trust 
 that you are not breaking the rules of the house 
 and cooking in your room. I seem to scent boiling 
 coffee.' " 
 
 The imitation was irresistibly funny, and Julia 
 laughed in spite of herself. 
 
 "Well, don't worry about her any more, sister, 
 dear," she comforted. "We are free of her for- 
 ever. We are our own mistresses now. And I 
 don't know," she went on after a moment's pause, 
 "that I am as glad of that as I expected to be, 
 either. This city is so big." 
 
 "That's why I like it," asserted Caryl, who was 
 to-day bubbling over with high spirits. "It's so 
 big and romantic, and something thrilling may be 
 waiting for us right around the corner. I wish an
 
 32 The Two Sisters 
 
 exciting adventure would come along right here 
 and now." 
 
 Unconsciously she began to hum a merry little 
 tune as she walked. Her color was high and her 
 rounded form showed to advantage in her blue 
 serge dress. She was slender, yet not thin; she 
 had a graceful figure and was aware of the fact. 
 
 The sisters stopped at a corner to allow a car 
 to pass before attempting to cross the street. 
 
 "That's a pretty tune," said a masculine voice 
 close by them. 
 
 Julia started at the sound. At Caryl's elbow 
 stood a man. He was well dressed, but wore 
 more jewelry than good taste would sanction. He 
 was smoking, and, in her momentary glance, Julia 
 noticed that the hand he raised to remove the cig- 
 arette from his lips was pink-nailed and over- 
 manicured. He lifted his hat to Caryl and smiled. 
 
 "Hello, girlie!" he greeted. "How's every- 
 thing?" 
 
 Julia grasped her sister's arm. "Don't speak 
 to him!" she murmured. "Come along!" 
 
 They hastened across the street, but when they 
 reached the other curb the man was at the younger 
 girl's side again. 
 
 "Don't be in a hurry," he said calmly. "I'm a 
 great little sticker. How about a bite to eat for 
 just us three, eh?"
 
 Mrs. Halloran's Lodgings 33 
 
 There was a note in his voice that made Julia 
 flush with anger. She turned sharply upon him. 
 
 "Will you go away and leave us alone?" she 
 asked hotly. "Or shall I call a policeman?" 
 
 The man's swarthy face creased into a smile. 
 "Old stuff, kid !" he chided, "old stuff ! What do 
 you think I am? Besides it's not you I'm thinking 
 about it's the little queen that's walking with 
 you. If you don't like me, why you can step out." 
 
 Panic-stricken, the girls walked rapidly down 
 the street. Julia was white and sick with a sud- 
 den dread. Her knees seemed weak, and in her 
 palms she felt the clammy sweat of fear. Behind 
 them she and Caryl could hear the footsteps of 
 the man. 
 
 "I'm a pretty good walker myself," they heard 
 him announce once, loudly. 
 
 For two blocks he followed them while they, 
 with the terror of hunted creatures, almost ran 
 in their desire to elude him. Reaching Broadway, 
 they plunged into the hurrying human tide flowing 
 there and did not slacken their pace until they 
 were at Twenty-second Street. Here they stopped 
 and looked back timidly. The man was not to be 
 seen, but, even so, they did not feel safe and kept 
 their rapid gait along the several blocks that lay 
 between them and their new lodging. It was only 
 when they were at last in the front room which
 
 34 The Two Sisters 
 
 they had engaged that they paused for breath. 
 Even here they controlled voices and faces until 
 the landlady, who had escorted them upstairs and 
 remained to chat with them for a minute, had 
 taken her departure. 
 
 "Oh!" gasped Julia, when the door had closed 
 behind the woman, "it was awful!" 
 
 She sank upon the bed and lay for a moment, 
 pale and weak. 
 
 "Caryl," she said slowly at last, pulling herself 
 to a sitting posture, "you expressed yourself as 
 longing for an adventure. I hope you don't want 
 any more of that kind." She tried to smile, then 
 shuddered. "It was horrible !" she exclaimed. 
 
 "It certainly was," agreed Caryl emphatically, 
 sobered by the recent experience. "But," she 
 added a few minutes later, her eyes sparkling mis- 
 chievously, "you shouldn't have been frightened, 
 Julia, for / was the one that he thought pretty!" 
 And she laughed as she uttered the jest. 
 
 Dusk had fallen on the street outside of the 
 lodging house window when Julia Marvin at last 
 closed the top of the trunk over which she had 
 been bending, and pronounced her own and Caryl's 
 belongings "all unpacked." 
 
 "Well, I'm glad that's done !" remarked Caryl 
 from where she sat on one of the two inhospitable 
 cane-seated chairs that were a part of the "fur-
 
 Mrs. Halloran's Lodgings 35 
 
 nishings" of their room. The girl had been 
 seated thus for the past half hour, watching her 
 sister get things to rights, yet she heaved a deeper 
 sigh than the worker had emitted and repeated in 
 a voice indicative of intense relief: "Yes, I'm 
 glad that's done." 
 
 The older girl was too dispirited to take um- 
 brage at the selfish remark of her lazy sister. She 
 was tired, not sleepy, but worn out, more in nerves 
 than in body. She still brooded on her fright of 
 the afternoon and shuddered afresh every time 
 that she re-lived mentally the distressing experi- 
 ence. Caryl, lolling even in the stern, uncom- 
 promising chair looked pink-and-white and 
 pretty as she idly tapped the bare floor with her 
 shapely foot and hummed to herself. 
 
 "I wish we had a better mirror," she com- 
 plained. "That ond makes me feel as if my face 
 were falling off in spots." 
 
 "We can't get a palace for the price we are 
 paying, honey," said Julia gently. There was 
 something in her patient voice that touched the 
 facile heart of the other girl, and she left off gaz- 
 ing at her own reflection to cross the room and 
 throw her arms about her sister's waist. 
 
 "Well, never mind!" she crooned, trying in- 
 effectually to make Julia waltz with her. "The old 
 mirror doesn't make any difference anyhow, and
 
 36 The Two Sisters 
 
 I've been horrid to let you do all the work of un- 
 packing. I'm sorry, Judy, dear, honestly I am. 
 I know I'm a nuisance to you, but I'm going to be 
 good and try my best to help you. I think our 
 room is all right, and when we get a few pictures 
 on the wall why, it will look really palatial." 
 
 Julia smiled and kissed her. "You're an awful 
 little goose, Caryl," she said tenderly, "but I love 
 you for all your nonsense, just the same. No, 
 silly child, I don't feel like dancing. The lodger 
 beneath us might complain, and, besides, I'm 
 hungry and want some supper." 
 
 "Well, let's go out and get some," proposed 
 Caryl. Then, as she noted how tired her sister 
 looked, she exclaimed, "No, we won't! You lie 
 right down here and rest while I gallop out to the 
 corner and buy our supper at the delicatessen shop. 
 We can make coffee over our alcohol lamp and 
 we'll have a real spread here a sort of house- 
 warming shan't we?" 
 
 But Julia hesitated. "I don't like you to go out 
 alone," she demurred. "When I remember that 
 man who spoke to us I'm almost afraid to go out 
 myself." 
 
 "Pooh!" scoffed Caryl. "I guess I'll have to 
 find my way around town alone sooner or later, 
 won't I ? And men here don't kidnap grown girls, 
 as I used to think the gypsies did little children
 
 Mrs. Halloran's Lodgings 37 
 
 when I was a child. We were chumps to be 
 frightened by that old beast this afternoon. He 
 was just trying to scare us, and if he had failed 
 he would have gone off and.left us. Now give me 
 fifty cents and I'll be back in a jiffy with a real 
 banquet for us both." 
 
 Left by herself, Julia indulged in the so-called 
 relief to tense feminine nerves and burst into 
 tears. She seldom cried, but now that the flood- 
 gates of her misery were open, she buried her 
 face in her pillow on the unyielding bed and sobbed 
 bitterly. She was still sobbing when there came 
 a knock at the door. She sat up and dried her 
 eyes before answering. 'At the second knock she 
 asked in a muffled voice : 
 
 "Who's there?" 
 
 The rich Irish tones of her landlady answered. 
 "It's only me, Miss Marvin. Can I come in?" 
 
 "I'm sorry," faltered Julia, "but I'm busy, and 
 and I can't see you just now." 
 
 "Nobody's ever too busy cryin' to stop, dearie," 
 remarked Mrs. Halloran, "so I'm coming in, 
 whether or no." 
 
 The touch of sympathy was too much for the 
 lonely girl, and dropping her head upon Mrs. 
 Halloran's shoulder, she began to sob afresh. 
 
 "There, now," the kind-hearted woman
 
 38 The Two Sisters 
 
 soothed, "have your cry out. What's distressin* 
 you, anyway?" 
 
 Suddenly, ashamed of her weakness, Julia Mar- 
 vin sat up, dried her eyes and tried to laugh. 
 
 "Oh, nothing in particular," she said "only 
 I feel tired and not sure about our future, and you 
 were so gentle and sympathetic that I cried all the 
 more when you spoke to me for I'm a bit dis- 
 couraged." 
 
 "You'll be that no longer," declared the woman 
 cheerfully. "And if you are, and don't let me 
 help you if I can I'm not your friend do you 
 understand?" 
 
 "Yes, I understand," smiled Julia. And as she 
 looked into the beaming Irish countenance she 
 appreciated that even in a strange city there were 
 kind hearts, and this knowledge made her burden 
 seem lighter.
 
 IV 
 
 SETTLING DOWN 
 
 THEIR first six weeks of regular occupation 
 seemed to the Marvin girls to drag heavily. Julia 
 found the work at Baird's department store both 
 difficult and dull. To stand behind a notion coun- 
 ter and sell pins, needles, tape and other articles 
 of this kind was not an exciting pursuit, and the 
 fact that she must be upon her feet for hours at 
 a time made her task painful. Still she stifled all 
 murmurings and apologized so pleasantly to her 
 companions when obliged to turn to them re- 
 peatedly for instructions that they all liked her. 
 To be sure, she felt out of her element when the 
 girls gathered in groups and discussed the newest 
 fashions, the latest vaudeville hit and the "fel- 
 lows" whom they had met, but she forced herself 
 to seem interested and not to show that all this 
 kind of thing bored her. 
 
 "One cannot make much in the way of commis- 
 sions at a notion counter, can one?" she observed 
 one afternoon to Ida Ryan, the girl who happened 
 to be standing next to her. 
 
 39
 
 4O The Two Sisters 
 
 "I should say not!" exclaimed Ida. "But every 
 girl hopes to be transferred to another depart- 
 ment before long. If not, I just wouldn't stick 
 it out here." 
 
 "What would you do?" asked Julia curiously. 
 She could not accustom herself to the tone 
 that some of the girls took as if it really 
 made no difference whether they worked or 
 not. 
 
 "Oh, I'd stay at home until I got another job," 
 replied Ida. "Wouldn't you ?" 
 
 Julia shook her lead. "No; for my home is 
 away up in Springfield, Massachusetts. At least, 
 that is where I used to live. I shall not go back 
 there." 
 
 "How silly you were not to stay with your peo- 
 ple," Ida observed. "You could save money by 
 living with them. But away from home you have 
 to pay for board and lodging. Now all that / 
 make goes for myself." 
 
 The pair had been joined by Mary Benton 
 another of the salesgirls and at this juncture 
 she interposed eagerly. 
 
 "I don't agree with you at all !" she exclaimed. 
 "I live at home, but, believe me, I don't save any- 
 thing on that game. I pay regular board, and be- 
 sides that I'm always expected to do something to 
 help along with the kids' clothes or with the rent."
 
 Settling Down 41 
 
 "Why don't you live somewhere else, then?" 
 asked Ida. 
 
 The girl eyed her indignantly. "Well, do you 
 suppose I'm going to leave my own folks when 
 they need my earnings and hand them out for 
 board and lodgings to somebody I don't care a 
 rap for? Nit! But I do wish there wasn't a new 
 kid in our family every two years." 
 
 "So much for people's getting married!" 
 sniffed Ida. "None of it in mine until a rich guy 
 comes along who can settle me on Easy Street." 
 
 "A swell chance we get of meeting that kind at 
 the notion counter in Baird's, or when we're wear- 
 ing the kind of clothes that our salaries buy us !" 
 Ida remarked. "I say it ain't fair that the girls 
 who need to marry rich can't meet rich chaps. If 
 a poor girl wants to stay decent, there's nothing 
 for her but to spend her days clerking it in a store 
 or marry a poor man and be worse off than she 
 was single. I say it ain't fair!" 
 
 Julia sighed and became silent as the two girls 
 continued to exchange opinions. Such thoughts 
 as they expressed were in her mind frequently 
 nowadays. What was there for her to look for- 
 ward to ? What did all these girls look forward 
 to? 
 
 "Sales here!" sounded a sharp voice, and she 
 started violently and hurried toward a customer
 
 42 The Two Sisters 
 
 who had just approached the counter. The floor- 
 walker who had called her nodded approval. 
 
 "I'm glad," he said in a low voice, "that one 
 of the girls is paying attention to the job," and as 
 he passed Ida and Mary he paused long enough 
 to utter a word of reproof. His speech of com- 
 mendation of her was the first bit of praise that 
 Julia Marvin had received since she started to 
 work, and it changed the trend of her thoughts 
 from discouragement to hope. 
 
 But her spirits received a dash when she reached 
 her room that evening. Caryl was there before 
 her, sitting by the window gazing down into the 
 street, and turned upon her sister as soon as she 
 entered. 
 
 "I say, sis," she began, "do you know I've 
 chosen an awfully slow line of work. I some- 
 times think I'll never catch on to those old pot- 
 hooks, circles, dots and scratches that people call 
 stenography. They're horrid." 
 
 Julia looked grave. "Don't talk like that so 
 soon," she advised. "There's always a sticking 
 point in everything, but now that you have paid 
 for your lessons it would be foolish to drop 
 them." 
 
 "I supposed," Caryl said, "that you'd take that 
 tone, so I'll go on with the thing for a while
 
 Settling Down 43 
 
 longer. But the weather's getting warm up in 
 that school." 
 
 "No warmer than in Baird's store," her sister 
 reminded her. 
 
 "Perhaps not," said the other skeptically. "But 
 you, at least, have the fun of seeing people. Oh, 
 Julia," her tone changing suddenly and her eyes 
 beginning to dance, "I bet I'm ahead of you in one 
 matter. I've had a man at least he calls himself 
 a man ask if he could call on me." 
 
 Julia started. "Oh, Caryl!" she ejaculated, 
 alarmed. "Who was he?" 
 
 Caryl laughed. "Don't be scared," she said. 
 "I turned him down good and plenty. His name 
 is Dobbs, and he's a measly-looking, skinny youth 
 who's studying at the school. He confided to me 
 that he hopes to get a job and help support his 
 mother and sister. So when he asked if he could 
 call, I snapped out quickly, 'No, you can't, thank 
 you!'" 
 
 "Poor chap," mused Julia. "But you are right 
 not to tell any man where you live, and not to ac- 
 cept attentions from any one of them." 
 
 "I know I'm right about such a cheap skate as 
 Dobbs," Caryl said loftily, "but if he was a rich 
 fellow I might act differently." 
 
 "You would not!" declared her sister firmly. 
 
 "I'm not so sure of that," Caryl argued. "By
 
 44 The Two Sisters 
 
 the way, Judy, I caught a glimpse to-day of the 
 man who followed us the day we came here. He 
 did not see me, and as he is such a common looking 
 creature I was not sorry. I find," she went on 
 thoughtfully, "that it is easy to snub men like him 
 and Dobbs. But" she hesitated "there must 
 be in this town some decent men who have cash 
 and would like to meet me." 
 
 A wistful sound had crept into her voice, and 
 Julia, hearing it, felt a sudden thrill of apprehen- 
 sion mingled with pity for her "little sister." 
 
 Although chained to the dull routine of her 
 work, Julia Marvin was not discontented. Every 
 morning found her at her post at the notion coun- 
 ter. Late afternoon saw her walking home to her 
 barely furnished room. She went to bed early and 
 slept until the whirr of her alarm clock aroused 
 her. The small alcohol lamp which she and Caryl 
 had owned had been replaced by a little gas stove, 
 and, after she had dressed each morning, Julia 
 would prepare with this a light breakfast of toast 
 and coffee just enough for two. Then she would 
 wake Caryl, and the sisters would eat; Julia with 
 her hat on, ready to hurry off to the store; the 
 younger girl, sleepy and cross and clad in a wrap- 
 per, casting wistful glances at the bed from which 
 she had been called all too soon for her.
 
 Settling Down 45 
 
 The two girls had few recreations. After 
 standing all day behind a counter, waiting upon 
 a horde of querulous shoppers, Julia's one wish 
 was to go home, eat her supper, and spend the 
 hours left before bedtime in reading. 
 
 In the evenings Caryl had her school work to 
 do. At least Julia insisted that she should do 
 this and was inflexible in the matter in spite of the 
 younger girl's protests that she was "tired" or 
 that she knew to-morrow's lesson already. Some- 
 times on Saturday nights Julia permitted herself 
 and Caryl the rare luxury of a trip to the theater. 
 Seated high in the second balcony the pair would 
 watch the performance with breathless interest. 
 On Sunday mornings they went to a church of the 
 denomination to which their mother had belonged, 
 and in the afternoons they rode far out into the 
 country on the trolley, or strolled through Cen- 
 tral Park or one of the city's museums. 
 
 It was a quiet life and a frugal one, but Julia 
 was not dissatisfied. There was always in her 
 mind the thought that she was earning her own 
 living and that appreciation strengthened her in 
 the purpose that had at first seemed so useless. 
 Moreover, although she had never quite lost her 
 fear of the great city, she was learning to think it 
 wonderful. Often she slipped into Mrs. Hallo- 
 ran's tidy rooms for a half hour's chat, and the
 
 46 The Two Sisters 
 
 wise Irishwoman with her kind heart gave her 
 comfort and not a little wise advice. The girls 
 at the counter with her in Baird's store had shown 
 themselves friendly to her. 
 
 Caryl was the source of Julia's only anxiety. 
 She would tell herself sometimes that if it were 
 not for her uneasiness about her younger sister 
 she would be quite content. Caryl did not seem 
 to be progressing in her work and she was con- 
 stantly complaining of people and conditions in 
 the school she attended. She had learned to write 
 fairly well, although not with rapidity, upon the 
 machine that Julia had rented for her, and she 
 claimed that she was as well grounded as she cared 
 to be in the rudiments of shorthand. 
 
 One evening in mid-summer Julia, entering her 
 room, found Caryl sitting upon the bed, her books 
 on the floor, while on her lips was a mutinous pout 
 that Julia knew and dreaded. 
 
 "Judy," said the younger girl abruptly, "I'm 
 not going back to that old school. It's horrid !" 
 
 "Not going back!" repeated Julia, in consterna- 
 tion. "What's the matter?" 
 
 "I'm tired," answered Caryl pettishly. "I'm 
 tired of working for nothing. Here I work my 
 fingers to the bone day and night and " 
 
 Remembering her efforts to induce her little
 
 Settling Down 47 
 
 sister to study, Julia could not repress a smile, and 
 Caryl, seeing it, lost her self-control. 
 
 "You may smile in that superior way if you like, 
 Julia Marvin!" she exclaimed hotly. "Of course, 
 you don't want me to do what I wish about any- 
 thing, but all the same I tell you I am not going 
 back to that old place!" 
 
 "Suppose," suggested Julia calmly, "that before 
 you fly off into a temper you tell me what is the 
 matter, Caryl." 
 
 "There's nothing particular the matter," mut- 
 tered Caryl sulkily. "But I'm sick of being 
 bossed. It was not so bad as long as I had a man 
 teaching me. He was quite pleasant. You know 
 I told you of some of the kind things he said to 
 me. But now they've put a woman in his place 
 and she is a cross old thing. She doesn't like me 
 and she pesters me all the time." 
 
 Julia felt that the moment had come for strong 
 speech, and she drew in her breath quickly. 
 "Yes," she said, "as long as there was a man 
 teaching you, a man who liked your looks and 
 told you so, and was nice to you because you were 
 pretty, it was all right. But now, when you have 
 a woman teacher who doesn't care whether you 
 are pretty or not, you want to give up the work 
 and make the money paid for your tuition go for 
 nothing. That's about it, isn't it?"
 
 48 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Well, I won't work under that woman I 
 won't! I won't!" sobbed Caryl, throwing herself 
 upon the bed in a storm of angry tears. "I'd 
 I'd rather be in a convent than in this dull old 
 place where we never see anyone, or meet any- 
 one, and nobody cares to give us a good time." 
 
 Julia gazed at her sister for a long moment in 
 silence. "Sometimes, my dear," she said slowly 
 at last, "sometimes I almost think that a convent 
 would be about the best place for you, after all. 
 Yes, little sister, I almost believe that!" 
 
 She went to the window and stood looking 
 down into the dusty street. Her face was very 
 pale. Caryl lay, face downward, on the bed where 
 she had thrown herself in tearful protest against 
 returning to "that horrid school." On the bureau 
 the little alarm clock ticked away busily. From 
 far down the street came the dull roar of the ele- 
 vated trains. 
 
 It was Julia who spoke first. She had the baf- 
 fled sensation of one who, while understanding 
 the attitude of another, feels in herself no sym- 
 pathy with it. 
 
 "Caryl," she said dispassionately, "instead of 
 lying there like a five-year-old child, suppose you 
 sit up and tell me what is really the matter." 
 
 No reply came from the prostrate girl except 
 a strangled sob.
 
 CARYL LAY FACE DOWNWARD ON THE BED WHERE SHE 
 HAD THROWN HERSELF IN TEARFUL PROTEST
 
 Settling Down 49 
 
 "Sister, dear," ventured Julia, more gently, 
 crossing the room and laying a caressing hand on 
 Caryl's shoulder, "don't let us quarrel. Sit up 
 now and tell me all about it. I did not mean to 
 scold but," with a sigh, "it's been a tiresome day 
 and I'm rather cross, I'm afraid." 
 
 "Well, that's no reason for your taking my 
 head off," declared Caryl, with the violence of 
 injured pride. Yet she stopped crying and sat up. 
 
 "I wish, Julia," she said loftily, as she powd- 
 ered her face, flushed from weeping, "that you 
 wouldn't take that high and mighty 'I-am-ages- 
 older-than-you' tone with me. I'm not a baby and 
 you aren't my guardian. All I said was that I 
 wasn't going back to that horrid old business 
 school and I meant it." 
 
 "I think you are going back, dear," rejoined 
 Julia, controlling her voice and manner to calm- 
 ness. 
 
 "And I think I'm not!" flashed back Caryl. 
 
 "Why not?" asked her sister. She had learned 
 long ago that with the younger girl a point was 
 gained sooner by questioning than through argu- 
 ment. 
 
 "Because, "said Caryl sharply, "I've got a job, 
 that is" she corrected herself "a position." 
 
 "With whom?" queried the other, in amaze- 
 ment.
 
 50 The Two Sisters 
 
 "With an author," answered Caryl triumph- 
 antly. "I'm to be secretary to Kelley Delaine, the 
 novelist. He 'phoned to the office this afternoon 
 for someone who could typewrite and take slow 
 dictation, and Mr. Jennings asked me if I would 
 like to try the job. I said I would, and I'm going 
 to see him to-morrow. So you see, Julia, even if 
 I do behave like a five-year-old child I am worth 
 rather more than you thought. I'm to get ten 
 dollars a week," she added proudly. 
 
 The girl's tone of superiority fanned the flame 
 of Julia's already smoldering temper. She was 
 tired and hungry and her self-control gave way 
 to a sudden flood of exasperation at her sister's 
 ungracious manner. 
 
 "Really, Caryl," she retorted, "your weak at- 
 tempts at sarcasm are in perfect accord with the 
 rest of your behavior. I think I rather overesti- 
 mated your apparent age when I said that you 
 acted like a child of five years. Does it occur to 
 you that if you had unbent a little from your fool- 
 ish dignity, and had not gone deliberately about 
 making a quarrel this evening, this whole matter 
 could have been settled a half hour ago with no 
 hurt feelings on either side? As far as your ac- 
 cepting a position of secretary for anybody is 
 concerned, you know as well as I do that you are 
 not capable of filling it."
 
 Settling Down 51 
 
 "Now, Judy, dear," pleaded Caryl, with one 
 of her swift changes of mood and temper, "don't 
 be cross ! I'm sorry if I was disagreeable to you 
 but listen. I can typewrite really very well 
 when I try, and I can take slow dictation, and 
 that's all that Mr. Delaine says he wants. It 
 won't do any harm for me to try, anyway, and the 
 longer I work the better I will do. So, now it's 
 all settled, isn't it?" 
 
 "No, darling, it isn't," answered Julia gravely. 
 "We don't know anything about this man who calls 
 himself Delaine. He might be almost anyone, 
 and " 
 
 "I thought of all that this afternoon," Caryl 
 interrupted, laughing and pinching her sister's 
 cheek. "I asked Mr. Jennings and he said that it 
 was a perfectly all-right position. Mr. Delaine 
 has gotten people from the school before. I'm 
 not such a little goose as you think, Julia. Now 
 please be a dear and say that you do not object 
 to my taking the position. Of course," she added 
 artfully, "I wouldn't think of taking it unless you 
 approved. Please say yes!" 
 
 For a moment Julia pondered anxiously, then 
 she spoke. "Caryl," she said slowly, "if you 
 really feel that you should take this job, I won't 
 stand in your way. Personally, I would rather 
 you didn't do it, for I realize what you don't, dear
 
 52 The Two Sisters 
 
 that you are not a good enough stenographer to 
 do the kind of work that Mr. Delaine will de- 
 mand. You will do better in the long run if you 
 go back to the school for a month or so more. 
 Still, if you feel that you want to accept this op- 
 portunity, I will not ask you to give it up." 
 
 "Then we'll call it all settled!" rejoined Caryl 
 quickly. "I'll start in to-morrow with Mr. De- 
 laine." 
 
 Lying awake late into the night, Julia stretched 
 out her hand and touched her sister's arm. 
 
 "Slipping away from me, dear, aren't you?" 
 she whispered sadly, "slipping away." 
 
 But no reply came from the sleeping girl, and, 
 as Julia listened, it seemed to her excited imagina- 
 tion that all the street sounds were mingled in an 
 echo of her whisper "Slipping away!"
 
 CARYL TAKES A POSITION 
 
 CARYL MARVIN awoke early in the morning of 
 the day upon which she was to undertake her 
 "job." Julia, who had lain awake far into the 
 night in the restlessness of apprehension, was now 
 sleeping heavily. Caryl was too much excited to 
 close her eyes again, but lay still reviewing the 
 occurrences of the day before. 
 
 She had quarreled with the woman who chanced 
 to be her teacher during the absence of the man 
 who had been her instructor. He was away on 
 his vacation, a fact which Caryl resented. Mr. 
 Schmidt had always been nice to her and had 
 often smiled at her indulgently when she made 
 some error. Not so his substitute. Miss Waters 
 had said that Caryl took dictation too slowly. 
 
 "You ought to write more easily after all these 
 weeks here," she declared, "and you should be 
 able to read your notes more readily." 
 
 "Lots of people can't read their own notes 
 quickly," replied Caryl. 
 
 S3
 
 54 The Two Sisters 
 
 "I did not say 'quickly,' Miss Marvin," the 
 teacher reminded her. "I said 'readily' !" 
 
 "Well, then, 'readily,' if that is what you said I" 
 retorted Caryl pertly. "And I repeat that many 
 stenographers cannot read their own notes read- 
 ily." 
 
 "Then they are not good stenographers," re- 
 plied Miss Waters firmly, "and you will not be 
 one unless you improve more quickly than you 
 do now." 
 
 "Then I probably won't be one !" muttered the 
 irate girl. Angry tears came to her eyes. Miss 
 Waters's own patience deserted her. 
 
 "I do not see," she exclaimed, "what Mr. Jen- 
 nings was thinking of in giving me such a back- 
 ward pupil! He shows a lack of understanding 
 as to how to grade students!" 
 
 She repented her sharp speech as soon as she 
 had uttered it. She needed the work she was now 
 doing; it meant a salary without which she could 
 scarcely live. If this foolish girl who seemed to 
 be somewhat of a favorite with Mr. Jennings 
 chose to repeat to him what the teacher had said 
 of him it might make trouble. Before Miss Wat- 
 ers could retract her statement, Caryl seized the 
 instrument the older woman had laid ready to 
 her hand. 
 
 "Perhaps you would like me to tell Mr. Jen-
 
 Caryl Takes a Position 55 
 
 nings what your opinion of him is!" she suggested 
 spitefully. "I see," glancing at the clock, "that it 
 is nearly closing time. As I want to see Mr. Jen- 
 nings before I go home I will go to his office now." 
 
 She sprang to her feet and gathered up her 
 books and papers. The startled spinster tried to 
 pour oil upon the troubled waters. 
 
 "I am sorry, Miss Marvin," she ventured em- 
 barrassedly, "if I spoke hastily just now. You 
 may be a little nervous and that makes you not as 
 quick as some; but I have no doubt that Mr. Jen- 
 nings' judgment is right " 
 
 Caryl stopped her by a gesture. "That remains 
 to be seen," she said significantly. "If I can per- 
 suade him to let me take a position soon and give 
 up my work here I may not think it worth while 
 to tell him that I have heard one of his teachers 
 doubts his ability to run a school." 
 
 There was a malignant spark in the girl's eyes 
 as she spoke. Now thinking it over as she lay 
 watching the morning light creeping into her room 
 she smiled in self-congratulation. 
 
 "I spiked her guns, all right," she said to her- 
 self. "It made it unsafe for her to tell him that 
 she thought I was not fitted to take a position." 
 
 The scheme had worked. Fate seemed to be 
 on the girl's side, for she had entered Mr. Jen- 
 nings's office just as he received a message from
 
 56 The Two Sisters 
 
 Mr. Delaine asking for someone who could be 
 his secretary. Caryl had spoken truly when she 
 had said that he did not demand an expert stenog- 
 rapher. 
 
 "I dictate very slowly," he told Mr. Jennings 
 over the 'phone, "but I want a quiet, inoffensive 
 young person whom I can train to my ways. If 
 she suits me, a good position awaits her. I will 
 pay her only seven dollars for the first two weeks 
 or so, then, if she makes good, I will pay ten." 
 
 Caryl felt safe in informing her sister that her 
 salary would be ten dollars for, of course, she 
 would "make good." 
 
 "I can send you a beginner for that sum, per- 
 haps," Mr. Jennings had said as he hung up the 
 receiver. Then, turning, he saw Caryl waiting 
 at his elbow. 
 
 "Let me try for that position!" she exclaimed 
 impulsively. 
 
 She looked very pretty standing there gazing 
 eagerly at him. But he hesitated. 
 
 "But you have paid for your lessons in ad- 
 vance," the man objected. "You would be the 
 loser on that deal." 
 
 "I don't care !" rejoined the girl recklessly. "I 
 tell you what we'll do, you let me go now and I'll 
 forget about the money I've paid." 
 
 "If you insist," mused the man, "and if your
 
 Caryl Takes a Position 57 
 
 present teacher agrees that you are fitted to take 
 the job then, perhaps well, I'll send for her!" 
 
 Miss Waters, sent for and questioned while 
 Caryl's bright and quizzical eyes were fixed upon 
 her decided that, "since the gentleman in ques- 
 tion did not need a rapid stenographer just at 
 first, Miss Marvin could fill the position." 
 
 So Caryl had left the school. She felt the thrill 
 of victory as she remembered how she had con- 
 quered. But she decided again, as the little alarm 
 clock shrilled noisily and Julia opened her weary 
 eyes at the sound, it would certainly be best not to 
 tell her sister all the facts. Julia was so fussy ! 
 
 Caryl Marvin was due at Kelley Delaine's 
 studio at ten o'clock, and she spent the last hour 
 before leaving her room in performing 'her toi- 
 lette. Her dainty lingerie shirtwaist was immacu- 
 late, and her blue serge skirt and jacket were care- 
 fully brushed. She would have donned a light 
 summer silk her best dress but Julia advised 
 otherwise. 
 
 "I want to make a good first impression," Caryl 
 declared. 
 
 "Then dress very simply," Julia counseled. 
 
 "It is better, Caryl, to begin at the bottom of 
 the ladder and work up slowly, than to try to
 
 58 The Two Sisters 
 
 start in the middle, and then come tumbling 
 down." 
 
 "I'm not going to tumble," Caryl assured her. 
 "Just watch me !" 
 
 "Well, good luck to you, dear," Julia said wist- 
 fully. She had prepared the usual breakfast and 
 washed the dishes at the sink in the hall. "Take 
 care of yourself, little sister. You are all I have, 
 you know." 
 
 She stopped to kiss the girl a second time, and 
 there was a look of almost maternal longing in 
 her dark eyes as she watched Caryl begin her 
 toilette. 
 
 A clock in the neighborhood was striking ten 
 when Caryl Marvin stepped from the elevator in 
 the building in which Kelley Delaine lived. The 
 elevator boy pointed down the corridor. 
 
 "Mr. Delaine's apartment's down that hall to 
 the left," he directed. As Caryl went in the di- 
 rection indicated, her heels made such a tapping 
 sound on the floor that it seemed to her that the 
 entire building echoed with the noise, and she 
 walked, therefore, on her tiptoes. Her heart was 
 beating fast as she pushed the button over which 
 was tacked a card bearing the name "Mr. Kelley 
 Delaine." The door was opened at once by the 
 author himself. His back was to the light, and 
 Caryl could not see his face distinctly at first.
 
 Caryl Takes a Position 59 
 
 "Oh, good morning!" he said pleasantly. "I 
 suppose you are the stenographer sent from the 
 school, aren't you?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Caryl diffidently. 
 
 "Come right in," said the man, throwing open 
 the door of his study. "Take off your hat and 
 jacket and I will be with you in a moment." 
 
 Left alone, Caryl looked eagerly about her. 
 The room was large and light, and comfortably, 
 if plainly, furnished. There was a great roll-top 
 desk by one window, and by the other a table, on 
 which stood a typewriter. Here, she supposed, 
 was where she would sit. In the center of the 
 room was a table piled with books, magazines and 
 papers, and at one side of this was a divan with a 
 dark red couch cover. Everywhere there were 
 books. The walls were lined with shelves of 
 them, and the narrow mantelshelf had piles of 
 them at both ends, although in the middle stood 
 a clock. Behind this was a mirror into which 
 Caryl glanced anxiously after removing her hat, 
 then smiled with satisfaction. At this minute De- 
 laine returned. 
 
 "Well," he said, "suppose we get right to work. 
 What's the matter?" 
 
 For she had started in genuine surprise as the 
 light fell full upon his face.
 
 60 The Two Sisters 
 
 "N nothing," she stammered, blushing scar- 
 let, "only " 
 
 "Only what?" he insisted. "What is it?" 
 
 "Nothing," she repeated, "only I've seen you 
 before. You look like, surely" with an out- 
 burst of conviction "you are the person who 
 saved me from getting killed by an automobile 
 don't you remember?" 
 
 The man looked at her keenly. "To be sure," 
 he said, "you are the little girl who tried to run 
 into a taxi one evening aren't you? I didn't 
 recognize you at first. Where's your sister?" 
 
 "Wh hat?" faltered Caryl. 
 
 "I say where's your sister? I remember her 
 better than I do you." 
 
 The words were said with a blunt earnestness, 
 and Caryl saw that the speaker did not intend to 
 wound her vanity, yet she bridled slightly as she 
 answered: 
 
 "My sister is at home, of course." 
 
 "Oh, then your home is here in New York, is 
 it?" asked Delaine. 
 
 "It is now," said Caryl, "we came to New 
 York some months ago my sister and I." 
 
 "Why?" asked Delaine. 
 
 Caryl thought quickly. She would not tell this 
 stunning-looking man the truth/ She was
 
 Caryl Takes a Position 61 
 
 ashamed to. The man noticed her hesitation and 
 hastened to reassure her. 
 
 "Don't tell me if you prefer not to," he said 
 kindly. 
 
 u Oh, that's all right," Caryl replied. "There's 
 nothing much to tell. We left home because our 
 father married a second time a coarse, uncon- 
 genial woman. We have our own apartment here 
 in New York and I have decided to take up 
 stenography, just for the experience and to prove 
 that I could support myself if necessary." 
 
 "And your sister?" asked Delaine. "What 
 does she do?" 
 
 "Oh, she is a writer," responded Caryl glibly. 
 "She writes stories for the magazines and news- 
 papers." 
 
 Then she stopped, astonished at her own skill 
 in weaving romances. 
 
 She knew what the author's next question 
 would be, and as she saw him hesitate before 
 uttering it, the frightened desire seized her to 
 confess the truth and tell him that Julia was a 
 shopgirl. Yet by the time that Delaine had voiced 
 his query her quick mind had prepared another 
 falsehood. 
 
 "Does your sister write under her own name?" 
 asked her new employer. 
 
 "No," Caryl responded glibly. "Most of her
 
 62 The Two Sisters 
 
 work is unsigned. She writes articles and things 
 like that, you know." 
 
 "Oh," said Delaine, "I see. By the way," he 
 added, with a kind smile, "I haven't asked for 
 your own name yet. Jennings gave it to me over 
 the 'phone, but I didn't catch it." 
 
 "It's Marvin," Caryl told him. "Caryl Mar- 
 vin." 
 
 "Caryl Marvin," he repeated. "And your 
 sister?" 
 
 "Her name is Julia," the girl said briefly. 
 
 "Julia," he mused. "I'll recollect that. Julia 
 Marvin it's a nice name," he murmured, as if 
 to himself. 
 
 Caryl turned toward the window by which 
 the typewriter stood. "Whenever you are ready, 
 Mr. Delaine," she said, somewhat stiffly, "I am 
 ready to begin." 
 
 The man started slightly. "Excuse me for 
 keeping you waiting!" he exclaimed. "I was 
 thinking of something else. But we'll get down 
 to brass tacks at once. Mr. Jennings has told 
 you of the arrangement?" 
 
 "Yes," the girl replied. 
 
 "Really," Delaine explained, "this interview 
 this morning was more for the purpose of getting 
 acquainted than for actual work, although I have
 
 Caryl Takes a Position 63 
 
 some stuff I would like you to copy before you go. 
 Do you think you will be able to do the work?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed," Caryl assured him. 
 
 "Then it's settled," declared Delaine. "Now, 
 if you will take these papers and make a double 
 copy of each of them that will be all for to-day. 
 You will find paper, etc., in the drawer of the 
 machine-table." 
 
 With a nod, he went into the next room while 
 Caryl sat down at the typewriter and began to 
 copy the notes he had given her. She was ex- 
 cited and nervous, and was obliged to stop again 
 and again to erase many blunders made by her 
 uncertain fingers. 
 
 She was well on toward the end of her task 
 when she heard the door-bell ring. No one an- 
 swered, and, when it sounded a second time, there 
 was an impatient movement behind the portieres 
 dividing the study from the room to which De- 
 laine had retired, and his voice called loudly, 
 "Wang!" A door at the opposite end of the 
 study opened and a solemn, moon-faced China- 
 man glided noiselessly across the floor and disap- 
 peared into the hallway, and a moment later Caryl 
 heard the front door open and a jovial voice 
 raised in greeting. 
 
 "Hello, Wang!" it proclaimed. "How's the
 
 64 The Two Sisters 
 
 old pirate this morning? Boss in? All right, I'm 
 coming in to see him." 
 
 A tall figure in riding clothes appeared in the 
 doorway, and Caryl, overcome with sudden em- 
 barrassment, turned to her machine and pretended 
 to be absorbed in her work. 
 
 "I beg pardon!" a voice close to her said, "but 
 I understood Wang to say that Mr. Delaine was 
 in." 
 
 The girl glanced up. A tall man stood beside 
 her. He was lean and dark and had an aquiline 
 face. He tapped one putteed leg with his riding- 
 crop as he spoke, and Caryl caught the gleam of a 
 large ruby upon one of his white fingers. Before 
 the girl could reply Delaine himself entered, hat 
 and stick in hand. 
 
 "Hello, Harry!" he exclaimed heartily. 
 "You're a sight for sore eyes. When did you 
 blow into town?" 
 
 "Yesterday," the new arrival answered. "I've 
 just been riding around the park and I stopped in 
 to see you for a moment. I say, old man " 
 
 He grasped Delaine by the arm and murmured 
 something too low for Caryl's ear to catch. 
 
 "I'll do nothing of the kind," Delaine asserted 
 positively. "Come, I'm going out. I've a little 
 business to attend to and then we'll lunch some- 
 where together."
 
 Caryl Takes a Position 65 
 
 "Oh, I say," protested the other, "give me a 
 chance, won't you? If you don't," he threatened, 
 laughing recklessly, "there's nothing for me to do 
 but take a chance myself." 
 
 For a mere second he hesitated, then turned to 
 Caryl, who was still at work upon the typewriter, 
 making even more blunders than before. 
 
 "Mr. Delaine puts upon me the burden of in- 
 troduction," the stranger said to her. "For an 
 ordinarily generous man he can be very stingy at 
 times. My name is Somerdyke Harry Somer- 
 dyke. Please be kind and accept this as an intro- 
 duction." 
 
 As he spoke he smiled with no trace of em- 
 barrassment, and Caryl noted admiringly the 
 white flash of his perfect teeth. She flushed, but 
 lifted her blue eyes to him. 
 
 "I'm Caryl Marvin," she returned shyly, "and 
 I'm very glad that you spoke to me, Mr. Somer- 
 dyke." 
 
 Somerdyke laughed confidently, and Delaine 
 frowned at the sound. "Come, Harry," he said 
 impatiently. "I can't wait any longer." 
 
 The two men went toward the hall together. 
 At the door Somerdyke turned and looked back 
 over his shoulder. 
 
 "And I'm very glad you spoke to me, Miss 
 Marvin," he averred and laughed again.
 
 VI 
 
 CARYL GOES SHOPPING 
 
 FOR several minutes after Kelley Delaine and 
 his friend had left the apartment Caryl Marvin 
 sat, a smile on her lips, musing on what had just 
 happened. Surely she was at last coming into 
 her own. 
 
 She was aware that Mr. Delaine had not seemed 
 especially impressed by her looks and had spoken 
 of Julia as if he had been more attracted by her 
 personality. Still Caryl had the advantage of 
 being on the scene, while to him Julia was only a 
 memory. The one who was with the man day 
 after day would surely win his liking at last. She 
 did not mean to be vain, but Mr. Somerdyke's 
 desire to become acquainted with her had proved 
 to her that he must have considered her at least 
 worth while. Moreover, Kelley Delaine's evi- 
 dent disinclination to introduce Somerdyke was 
 a subtle flattery in itself. 
 
 Wang's soft step in the hall recalled her with 
 a start to her work, and once more she bent over 
 
 66
 
 Caryl Goes Shopping 67 
 
 the machine. As she did so she was appalled at 
 the untidy appearance of the sheet before her, 
 and, glancing at the copying she had done this 
 morning, she was chagrined. It would never do 
 to turn in such stuff as this to her new employer. 
 His own notes were so neat that she was certain 
 he would expect neatness and thoroughness in her 
 copies. Her excitement and nervousness had in- 
 terfered with her doing her best. 
 
 With a tremendous effort of her will she 
 dragged her thoughts from everything except her 
 task. Disregarding the soiled and erased results 
 of her morning's efforts, she placed a clean sheet 
 of paper in the machine and, more carefully than 
 she had ever worked before in her life, began to 
 copy Delaine's notes. 
 
 For two hours there was no sound in the room 
 save the click, click of the typewriter. Caryl did 
 her best, and the clean copies were all that she 
 could wish, when, with a sigh of satisfaction, she 
 laid them on Delaine's desk with his notes. She 
 did not throw her first efforts in the wastebasket 
 where they would have been mute witnesses of her 
 failure, but, crumpling the sheets of marred paper 
 into a tight ball, she stuffed them into her hand- 
 bag. Then she put on her hat and jacket and 
 started for the door just as the clock on the man- 
 telshelf chimed two.
 
 68 The Two Sisters 
 
 She was tired and nervous lest her employer 
 should return and find her still here. As she 
 reached the outer hall she heard the elevator as- 
 cending, and, thinking that perhaps Delaine might 
 be upon it, and seeing her would know how long 
 she had taken to do his work, she went swiftly 
 down the first flight of stairs and awaited the 
 elevator on the floor below that on which was 
 Delaine's apartment. 
 
 She was right in her suspicion, for, as she 
 reached the turn in the staircase, she heard the car 
 stop on the floor she had just left, and Somerdyke's 
 laugh reached her as Delaine asked, "You'll come 
 in and have a smoke, won't you?" 
 
 "Of course I'll come in," agreed Somerdyke, 
 "in fact, that was why I came home with you. 
 Whether I stay long may depend upon who's 
 here." 
 
 Caryl smiled at the meaning he managed to 
 convey in these words, also at the sudden coldness 
 of Delaine's accents as he replied, "There is prob- 
 ably nobody here but Wang. My stenographer 
 must have finished her work and gone home long 
 ago." 
 
 Then, as the car stopped on the landing where 
 the girl was waiting for it, she stepped into it and 
 was borne to the street. 
 
 "A narrow escape," she muttered, as she turned
 
 Caryl Goes Shopping 69 
 
 westward. When she reached Broadway she 
 paused. She was hungry and remembered that it 
 was long past her usual lunch hour. Besides, there 
 were several little things which she felt she had a 
 right to purchase, now that she was making her 
 own living. To be sure, the money in her purse 
 was Julia's, but she would pay it back when she 
 got her first week's salary. Therefore, as she 
 had this little shopping to do, she would not hurry 
 home. 
 
 Stepping into a lunch room, she ordered a meal 
 that cost more than her usual noon repast. Com- 
 ing out again upon Broadway, she drew a deep 
 breath of happiness. It was one of those bril- 
 liant, breezy days that come in late summer, the 
 sunshine was golden and not too hot; it was good 
 to be alive. 
 
 The mood of contentment with herself and the 
 world at large lingered with her as she made the 
 purchases which she persuaded herself were ne- 
 cessities. Since she must wear a plain shirtwaist 
 to business at least since Julia said she must 
 she certainly ought to have a pretty necktie to 
 wear with it. This selected, she remembered that 
 the plain sleeve links that fastened her cuffs looked 
 cheap, so she selected a pair of rolled gold ones. 
 How she loved jewelry ! she thought as she waited 
 for her change. Just as soon as she was getting
 
 7O The Two Sisters 
 
 a really good salary she would begin to buy jew- 
 elry for herself. 
 
 Yet if she would succeed, she said to herself, 
 she must seem successful. If her employer thought 
 her able to dress well, he would think her better 
 worth keeping than if she seemed to be in actual 
 need of the work he offered her. If Julia would 
 only appreciate these matters she would not mend 
 and darn her old clothes as she did. Yes, nothing 
 succeeds like seeming success. This thought gave 
 her courage to purchase before she left the store 
 a pair of side combs that attracted her fancy. 
 Those she was now wearing had a dull, common 
 look which she had noticed only this morning 
 when she put them in her hair. 
 
 On glancing into her purse she appreciated that 
 she had spent two dollars and seventy-five cents 
 of Julia's money over half of Julia's weekly 
 salary. 
 
 "Oh, well," Caryl Marvin told herself, "my 
 own salary will soon be ten per week, so where's 
 the harm!" 
 
 It was late afternoon. Julia Marvin had had 
 an anxious day, for her thoughts had been with 
 Caryl in her new position. Remembering her own 
 painful discouragement during the first weeks that 
 she had been at Baird's, the older girl's heart
 
 Caryl Goes Shopping 71 
 
 ached for the little sister who might have to face 
 the same depression and the same feeling of deso- 
 lation. Yet Julia believed that if Caryl would 
 only have courage and perseverance, she must, 
 after a while, become as much interested in her 
 work as she Julia was in hers. 
 
 She had reached this juncture in her medita- 
 tions when a voice speaking her name called her 
 to a sudden appreciation of the fact that one of 
 the men in authority in the store was addressing 
 her. 
 
 "I have something pleasant to tell you," he said, 
 "but I have been too busy to see you until now. I 
 want to say to you before you go home that you 
 are to be transferred to-morrow to another coun- 
 ter." 
 
 Julia felt the blood rush to her face. "Oh, am 
 I ? Where ?" she questioned eagerly. 
 
 "To the laces," replied the man. "Are you 
 pleased?" 
 
 "Indeed I am," the girl said, "only I have be- 
 come accustomed to my work at this counter, and 
 I am very ignorant of laces. Still they are such 
 pretty and interesting things to handle that I am 
 glad I am to be in that department." 
 
 "And you know," added her informer in a 
 lower voice, "the change in the department means
 
 72 The Two Sisters 
 
 also a little rise in salary, not much, but a little, 
 and every little bit counts." 
 
 "Indeed it does !" exclaimed Julia. So earnest 
 was her exclamation that the man looked at her 
 keenly and wondered just how badly this brave 
 girl needed money. 
 
 The "brave girl" did not let even her sister 
 know how badly she did need it. Slowly be- 
 cause of her rigid economy but surely, the little 
 sum Julia and Caryl Marvin had was slipping 
 away to pay running expenses. Julia often denied 
 herself a regular luncheon at noon. Caryl hated 
 frugality as she hated hard work, and, when she 
 wanted anything, looked no further forward than 
 the present. This afternoon she reached home 
 several hours before her sister and was lying 
 down, resting, when Julia entered. The older girl 
 smiled with relief as she noted her sister's happy 
 expression. 
 
 "Well, little sister!" she exclaimed. "From 
 your face I fancy that work went well. I have 
 worried about you, dear." 
 
 "You needn't have worried," answered Caryl 
 lightly, returning Julia's kiss of greeting. "I got 
 on finely." 
 
 "Good !" Julia ejaculated. "I am so glad, dear ! 
 I want to hear about it."
 
 Caryl Goes Shopping 73 
 
 "First tell me what kind of a day you have 
 had," demanded Caryl. 
 
 "You are a dear, unselfish child to want to hear 
 about my affairs when you must be so full of your 
 own experiences," said Julia, as she laid off her 
 hat and seated herself on the side of the bed by 
 Caryl. "I would not stop to tell you anything 
 about myself just now if it were not that I have 
 a bit of good news. Dear, I've been transferred 
 to the lace counter, and I've had a rise in pay." 
 
 "Good!" Caryl exclaimed, clapping her hands. 
 "The Marvin fortunes have taken a turn! How 
 much is it?" 
 
 "Only five more a month," said Julia, "that is, 
 twenty-six a month, and commissions. But in 
 laces the commissions are bigger, of course, than 
 in notions. And, besides, it shows that I've been 
 doing good work. And now, tell me about your 
 new position." 
 
 "Guess who Kelley Delaine is," Caryl said. 
 
 "You told me he was a writer," answered Julia. 
 "Isn't he?" 
 
 "Of course he is, but you've seen him before." 
 
 "Have I ? Where?" asked the other, mystified. 
 
 "Judy fancy he is the man that saved my 
 life on the street that night!" 
 
 "Is he, indeed?" exclaimed Julia. "What a 
 strange coincidence I"
 
 74 The Two Sisters 
 
 Caryl told only what she thought best, omitting 
 among other things the visit of Harry Somerdyke. 
 After a few minutes of questions and answers, 
 Julia leaned over and kissed her sister. 
 
 "I am so happy for you, dear," she said fondly. 
 "It really looks, as you say, as if with strict econ- 
 omy we might get on fairly well. We will pay 
 as we go, and make every penny count. It is a 
 good plan to make out beforehand a list of neces- 
 sary expenses, and try to adhere to that. Now, 
 for instance, for this week you have money for 
 car fares and luncheons, until Sunday, you know, 
 and " 
 
 Caryl interrupted her. "Indeed I haven't!" 
 she declared. 
 
 "But I handed you three dollars only last 
 night," Julia reminded her. 
 
 "I know you did," Caryl admitted, "but I had 
 to get my luncheon, and then I bought a new tie 
 for my old one was disgraceful and some cuff 
 links and a pair of side combs. Oh, Judy" with 
 a sudden burst of indignation as she noted her 
 sister's disapproving expression of countenance 
 "don't look at me as if I had committed an actual 
 sin, just because I have been obliged to provide 
 myself with the bare necessities of life I I've got 
 to live, haven't I?"
 
 Caryl Goes Shopping 75 
 
 In a silence that meant disagreement, they 
 made themselves ready to go out to dinner. Julia 
 had pleaded vainly, trying to point out to the 
 younger girl that they must make their expenses 
 fit their income. She confessed some of her own 
 economies, hoping thereby to impress Caryl with 
 the necessity of care in spending their money. 
 
 "At first I used to get a substantial, though 
 plain, luncheon every day," Julia said. "But for 
 the past two months I have bought a five-cent box 
 of crackers on my way to the store, and at noon 
 I have eaten those instead of going out with the 
 other girls." 
 
 "They must think you're a regular cheap 
 skate," Caryl observed heartlessly. "Besides that, 
 you're getting thin and losing all your prettiness. 
 You'll soon look old if you go on like this." 
 
 "At nineteen?" Julia queried. "Hardly, I 
 think though goodness knows I feel old enough 
 sometimes!" 
 
 There was a bitter note in her voice, and yet 
 she was not usually bitter. But Caryl's selfishness 
 irritated her and baffled her. The younger girl 
 started up angrily at her sister's tone. 
 
 "Oh, Julia !" she exclaimed. "Do stop telling 
 me of all your unselfish acts! I did buy some 
 things this afternoon with your money, but it was 
 only borrowed anyway, and I assure you that
 
 76 The Two Sisters 
 
 every one of your precious cents will be returned 
 as soon as I get my first salary. Do let's talk of 
 something else now!" 
 
 Argument was futile, and Julia, recognizing 
 this fact, said no more, but, as it was late, began to 
 make her usual dinner toilette. This consisted of 
 taking down her hair and doing it up again, wash- 
 ing her face and hands, and putting on a fresh 
 collar. This done, she proposed that they go out 
 to dinner now, and Caryl, agreeing, began, as 
 soon as the street was reached, to chat lightly and 
 happily as if there had been no uncomfortable 
 feeling between her and her companion. Her 
 facile nature made this easy, moreover to-night 
 she was too well satisfied with her new position, 
 and the possibilities it seemed to offer, to remain 
 long in a bad humor. 
 
 The pair walked along Twenty-second Street 
 toward Seventh Avenue, and turned into the res- 
 taurant where they were in the habit of taking 
 their evening meal. Although the outer air had 
 been clear and invigorating all day, the atmos- 
 phere of the restaurant was warm and heavy with 
 the odor of many dead and gone dinners. The 
 odor sickened Julia slightly, but, though Caryl 
 sniffed contemptuously, she declared that she was 
 "hungry enough to eat anything." 
 
 The girls had learned when they first moved 
 into Mrs. Halloran's house that at this eating
 
 Caryl Goes Shopping 77 
 
 place each could get a meal ticket allowing two 
 meals a day for three and a half dollars a week, 
 but as they did not breakfast or lunch in the res- 
 taurant they made an arrangement by which they 
 could get their dinners here for three dollars a 
 week. The cooking was not bad, but lacked va- 
 riety, and the food was seldom served hot. Still, 
 for the price, it was the best that the sisters could 
 do in their neighborhood. There were other per- 
 sons lodging near by who ate here regularly, and 
 occasionally one of the tables would be taken by 
 a party of a half dozen diners who would order 
 several bottles of the light red wine served in the 
 place, then chat and smoke until* a late hour. As 
 a rule Julia and Caryl dined so early that such 
 groups were only arriving when they took their 
 departure. This evening, however, the girls were 
 an hour later than usual, and many of the tables 
 were deserted. They were almost through their 
 dinner before Caryl uttered a low exclamation 
 that made Julia look up startled. "What's the 
 matter?" she asked. 
 
 "Don't look now," said Caryl, "but I never 
 noticed until this minute that one of the men at 
 that table over there is the very man who fol- 
 lowed us on the day we moved to Mrs. Hallo- 
 ran's. He laughed so loudly just now that it at- 
 tracted my attention, and I looked over to see who 
 he was."
 
 VII 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION AND AN INVITATION 
 
 THE color left Julia's face even while she 
 chided herself for her foolish fears. What could 
 any man do to her or Caryl here in this public 
 restaurant or on the short block on the lighted 
 street between them and their room? But her 
 lips twitched nervously as she asked: " Do you 
 think he recognized you?" 
 
 "Indeed he did," replied Caryl, "and he bowed 
 and smiled to me. Of course, I cut him and 
 looked as if I had never seen him before." 
 
 "Let's hurry through dinner and get away be- 
 fore he leaves," proposed Julia. For her own 
 part she could not eat another mouthful. 
 
 "That wouldn't do any good," declared Caryl, 
 "for all those men finished eating long ago, and 
 are just drinking and smoking now. They're a 
 common looking lot." 
 
 "Well, don't look at them," counseled the 
 older girl, and she pretended to be engaged in the 
 food on the plate before her. 
 
 78
 
 An Introduction 79 
 
 In spite of their effort to appear unconcerned, 
 the two girls decided they did not want dessert 
 and coffee, and had laid down their napkins and 
 risen from their chairs preparatory to departure 
 when a dark shadow loomed up beside them and 
 a masculine voice asked: 
 
 "Why in such a hurry, young ladies? May I 
 not see you home? It does not look well for 
 pretty girls to be on the street alone at night." 
 
 With a start, Julia looked about her, noting, to 
 her dismay, that the man who had waited on her 
 and Caryl had just gone out of the room, and that 
 the cashier, usually at the desk by the door, had 
 left his post for a minute. What should she do? 
 
 But there was no tremor in the cold tones with 
 which she replied, laying her hand on Caryl's arm 
 and drawing her toward the door. 
 
 "You evidently mistake us for some other per- 
 sons," she said bravely. "We do not know you, 
 and I must ask you to allow us to pass." 
 
 But the man remained standing in front of her, 
 blocking her way and laughing coarsely. 
 
 Julia's assumed courage forsook her for a mo- 
 ment. As she looked helplessly about her she was 
 amazed to hear Caryl speak in cool, firm tones. 
 
 "You will let us pass," said the young girl, "or 
 I will summon the proprietor and have you put 
 out of this place I" Then, as the man only laughed
 
 8o The Two Sisters 
 
 again, Caryl, now angry and flushed, turned sud- 
 denly from him to the table at which his compan- 
 ions were still seated. As she did so, one of them 
 got up, and, as if answering an unspoken sum- 
 mons from her, came forward. 
 
 "You," she said to him, "do not look like the 
 kind of a man who would bully two defenseless 
 girls. Will you kindly ask your friend to let us 
 alone?" 
 
 The man she addressed looked painfully em- 
 barrassed as he met her keen gaze. 
 
 "Certainly," he replied awkwardly. Then, in 
 a lower voice, he muttered, "You must excuse 
 Dan he's been drinking." 
 
 "That is evident," remarked Caryl stiffly. 
 
 The man to whom Caryl had appealed laid his 
 hand on the bully's arm. "Come along, Dan," he 
 coaxed. "Don't molest the ladies. Here comes 
 the proprietor now, and you don't want him to 
 throw you out, do you?" 
 
 The half intoxicated man bowed elaborately. 
 "Excuse me, ladies," he said, "and allow me to 
 wish you a very pleasant evening. I hope we 
 may meet again." 
 
 He moved aside to allow the girls to go out, 
 but Julia heard him murmur as Caryl passed him, 
 "I'll see you later, little girl, no matter what hap-
 
 An Introduction 81 
 
 pens," and the older sister shuddered at the words. 
 As she and Caryl hurried home she felt as if her 
 feet were weighted heavily. She could hardly be- 
 lieve that only this afternoon her heart had been 
 light and that she had looked toward a placid 
 future here in New York. Once again the sense 
 of responsibility for her sister oppressed her and 
 she appreciated how careful a girl must be who 
 would live safely in the heart of a great city. She 
 was glad that Caryl's quick speech had relieved a 
 painful situation, but how did the child dare assert 
 herself as she had done? When the two girls 
 had reached their room Julia asked the question 
 that was in her mind. 
 
 "Caryl," she said, sinking exhausted into the 
 first chair she reached, "you certainly were plucky 
 to appeal to that strange man as you did, but how 
 did you dare do it? I was so frightened that I 
 could not utter another word." 
 
 Caryl laughed lightly. "Why were you so 
 frightened?" she asked. "I wasn't." 
 
 "You weren't? Well, you looked uncomfort- 
 able enough when that beast first spoke to us," 
 Julia reminded her. 
 
 "Of course I did, for it mortified me to have 
 him speak to us when he was evidently such a 
 common sort of a chap, and in a place where we 
 are known by the proprietor and waiters. But I
 
 82 The Two Sisters 
 
 wasn't afraid of the man himself only of the 
 scene we might have to make to get rid of him. 
 I would hate to have people see us in such a com- 
 mon set as that. But as to being afraid of any 
 man why," with a fascinating smile, "I flatter 
 myself I can snub anything masculine in New 
 York if I want to." 
 
 Julia looked at her sister, an anxious expression 
 gathering in her eyes. "I wish you were not so 
 sure of yourself, dear," she said gently. 
 
 "Why?" questioned Caryl, puzzled. "You 
 found my nerve mighty convenient a half hour 
 ago, when it got us out of an uncomfortable 
 scrape." ,-. 
 
 "I know it," assented Julia. "But, child, you 
 do not know men, and yet you feel that you can 
 cope with them and with their ways." 
 
 Caryl smiled in a superior way. "Since I came 
 to New York," she said, "I have grown independ- 
 ent and sure of myself, and I have met more men 
 than you imagine. I know several at school 
 
 teachers, etc. and Mr. Delaine and his friend 
 _____ 
 
 She paused to note the effect of her words, and 
 smiled again, this time with satisfaction when 
 Julia asked: "Mr. Delaine's friend. You did not 
 tell me that you met a friend of his!" 
 
 "But I did meet him, nevertheless," said Caryl
 
 An Introduction 83 
 
 demurely, "and he was most agreeable and polite 
 to me. And" with a sigh of gratified vanity 
 "I do not think that my good-looking employer 
 was pleased at having him meet me." 
 
 "I am glad he wasn't!" declared Julia. "I 
 think the more of him for not wishing his sten- 
 ographer to meet any man who happens into his 
 rooms. Oh, Caryl, dear, I wish you could live a 
 more protected life !" 
 
 She got up suddenly and, going swiftly to her 
 little sister, put her arms about her and held her 
 close to her. 
 
 "You are so young and so inexperienced, dear 
 Caryl," she said, "and I am so afraid that some- 
 thing may happen to you ! For you are all I have, 
 little sister." 
 
 Caryl returned the caress lightly and carelessly. 
 "Happen to me!" she exclaimed. "I'm safe 
 enough ! I declare, Judy, you are getting to be a 
 fussy old maid. Come, let's go to bed! I'm 
 sleepy." 
 
 As she spoke she crossed the room to pull down 
 the window shade, which was flapping in the night 
 breeze, but when she reached the window she 
 paused and uttered a low exclamation part 
 laugh, part dismay. 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked Julia quickly, go- 
 ing toward her.
 
 84 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Why, Judy," said Caryl with an excited giggle, 
 "that masher from the restaurant is standing right 
 down in the street, in front of this house, and is 
 looking up at this window. And why yes 
 
 he is Oh, Judy! look! he is lifting his 
 
 hat to me! See?" 
 
 But Julia did not see, for, with an exclamation 
 of angry disgust, she closed the window sharply 
 and pulled down the shade. 
 
 At nine o'clock on the second morning in her 
 new position Caryl Marvin rang the door bell of 
 Kelley Delaine's apartment. As yesterday, the 
 author himself opened the door for her. 
 
 "Good morning!" he said, with a pleasant 
 smile. "Let me congratulate you on your prompt- 
 ness, Miss Marvin. It is a rather rare virtue 
 among stenographers, I believe." 
 
 "Why confine tardiness to stenographers?" 
 queried the girl, flippantly. 
 
 "I might go farther and include all women were 
 I ungallant enough to do so," answered Delaine, 
 laughing lightly as he led the way into his study. 
 "We will begin work at once if you are ready," 
 he added. 
 
 "Entirely ready," Caryl assured him. "What 
 is it to be to-day copying or dictation?" 
 
 "I am going to try to dictate to you for a little,"
 
 An Introduction 85 
 
 he told her. "I have a story running in my mind 
 and I want to get it down upon paper as soon as 
 I can, so we'll do it this morning." 
 
 Going to the door, Delaine called his servant. 
 "I don't want to be disturbed this morning, 
 Wang," he ordered when the Chinaman appeared. 
 "Don't forget. If you let anybody in I'll cut you 
 up into little chunks. Understand?" he asked 
 with a grin. 
 
 "Now," he continued, turning to Caryl, who 
 had removed her hat and jacket, "we'll begin. 
 I'm afraid it will be rather awkward for us both 
 at first, that is, unless you have taken dictation 
 before." 
 
 "I am not a real expert, Mr. Delaine," the girl 
 admitted. "I have, however, taken down dicta- 
 tion for my sister sometimes. She speaks very 
 slowly, though." 
 
 The man hesitated. "Is your sister doing much 
 work now?" he asked, almost timidly. 
 
 "A good deal," the girl replied with a twinge 
 of uneasiness. "Shall we start now?" 
 
 "It's queer," mused Delaine, ignoring her ques- 
 tion, "that I can't remember seeing her name in 
 print. What magazines does she do most work 
 for?" 
 
 "I told you yesterday that she doesn't sign her 
 name to things," Caryl said with some asperity,
 
 86 The Two Sisters 
 
 her embarrassment making her speak more sharp- 
 ly than was quite becoming in a stenographer ad- 
 dressing her employer. "I am ready whenever 
 you are, Mr. Delaine." 
 
 "Oh, yes," he exclaimed, starting from his rev- 
 erie, "I beg your pardon." 
 
 He began to dictate, and the girl bent over her 
 pad, forgetting all else in her endeavor to keep 
 up with the hesitating speech. For the first twenty 
 minutes she found this comparatively easy, for 
 the author was not accustomed to composing 
 aloud, and found himself decidedly ill at ease. 
 After the first half hour, however, his self-con- 
 sciousness was forgotten by him in his own interest 
 in the story he was creating, and his voice strength- 
 ened as he gained confidence. For a time Caryl 
 tried to make her hurrying pencil keep pace with 
 his quickening words, but at last she stopped and 
 turned to him with a look of protest. 
 
 "Would you mind going just a little bit slower, 
 Mr. Delaine?" she asked, half fearfully. 
 
 "Pray excuse me!" Delaine exclaimed. "I 
 didn't appreciate that I was speaking too rapidly." 
 
 "That's all right," Caryl assured him. "I 
 spoke because I was afraid I might miss some- 
 thing. You were speaking pretty fast, and I am a 
 little too new at this kind of work to be able to 
 keep up with rapid dictation. I hope," looking
 
 An Introduction 87 
 
 at him and widening her blue eyes into an expres- 
 sion that was meant to indicate unsophistication, 
 "that by the time I have been here a little longer 
 I will do a great deal better than I do now." 
 
 "Oh, you'll be all right, no doubt," the man 
 said, disregarding her apparent humility. "Are 
 you all straightened out now?" 
 
 "Yes," said Caryl, turning over a page in her 
 notebook. "Go on." 
 
 But by the time that the author was well under 
 way again, the doorbell rang and he stopped, 
 frowning in vexation, and muttering something 
 under his breath. Wang padded noiselessly 
 through the room and out into the hall, from 
 which there speedily issued sounds of violent argu- 
 ment. In a moment the door of the study was 
 flung wide open and Harry Somerdyke entered 
 unannounced. His face was flushed, but he smiled 
 cheerfully at Delaine and bowed low to Caryl, 
 who nodded back at him with a look of welcome. 
 
 "I almost had to kill that Chinaman of yours 
 before I could get in here, Kel," he informed his 
 host. "I hated to mangle him, but he got in my 
 way." 
 
 "It's just as well that you did the job," re- 
 turned Delaine, the frown of vexation deepening 
 on his face. "I would have done it myself other- 
 wise. I told Wang expressly that I was not to
 
 88 The Two Sisters 
 
 be disturbed this morning. I ought to fire him 
 for letting you in in spite of my strict commands 
 along that line." 
 
 "But, you see, he didn't let me in," answered 
 Somerdyke nonchalantly, and chuckling in self- 
 satisfaction. "He said I could not possibly see 
 you, but I proved that I could by coming right 
 along in." 
 
 "And you'll go right along out, too, Harry, if 
 you please," the author urged. "I'm very busy 
 this morning, and have not time for talk." 
 
 "I gathered as much from Wang and from 
 your cordial tone of welcome, old man. I just 
 came to see if you're not going to play a little ten- 
 nis with me this afternoon," suggested the other. 
 
 "That's not what you butted in here for, and 
 you know it," declared Delaine, smiling in spite 
 of himself. "What do you want, anyway?" 
 
 "Well, if you insist upon a categorical answer," 
 replied Somerdyke, in an aggrieved tone, "I'll 
 have to give it in the presence of a witness. I 
 want to know if Miss Marlin won't take pity on 
 a stranger marooned in this great and lonely city 
 and do him the favor of lunching with him to- 
 day. Won't you please?" he urged, turning sud- 
 denly to Caryl, a look of admiration in his mock- 
 ing eyes. 
 
 At his blunt invitation Caryl felt the hot
 
 An Introduction 89 
 
 blood rush to her cheeks. A part of her seem- 
 ing confusion was due to embarrassment, for she 
 felt Delaine's eyes fixed upon her in silent ap- 
 praisal, but her predominant feeling was a thrill 
 of triumph. If she had voiced her thoughts her 
 words would probably have been "At last I" Af- 
 ter these long dreary months in the city, where 
 nobody worth while had seemed to consider her 
 or pay her attention, the most attractive man she 
 had ever met was asking her to lunch with him, 
 and this was only the second time he had met her ! 
 
 She did not reply at once. She wanted to go 
 with Somerdyke, yet her feminine instinct warned 
 her not to seem too eager to do so, that she would 
 gain by an appearance of reluctance. And, while 
 she hesitated, Delaine turned almost sharply to 
 his unceremonious visitor. 
 
 "Really, Harry," he said brusquely, "I don't 
 particularly relish having you make a convenience 
 of my rooms. Nor do I believe," he added with 
 a change of tone, "that Miss Marvin cares for 
 that kind of an invitation." 
 
 Somerdyke laughed recklessly. "Don't preach, 
 Kelley! Surely there is no harm in my asking a 
 lady whom I have met in a formal and correct 
 fashion to lunch with me. This is not a monop- 
 oly," he muttered in a lower voice and with sig- 
 nificant intonation.
 
 9O The Two Sisters 
 
 Caryl, watching the two men, her eyes spark- 
 ling with excitement, saw the dark color mount to 
 Delaine's face. But, controlling any further evi- 
 dence of irritation, he shrugged his shoulders and 
 replied with a tolerant smile. 
 
 "Though you have lived in South America for 
 the last five years, Harry," he remarked slowly, 
 "I fancy that you have not forgotten that among 
 civilized people a man usually knows a young 
 girl's family rather well before he ventures to ask 
 her to lunch alone with him." 
 
 Somerdyke's eyes narrowed and he thrust out 
 his jaw stubbornly. 
 
 "Instead of holding a brief for Miss Marlin, 
 Delaine," he said, u why don't you let the lady 
 speak for herself? I think that she feels that she 
 knows me well enough to risk going to lunch with 
 me, desperate character though I appear to be." 
 
 "Certainly," answered Delaine, still suppress- 
 ing any manifestation of anger. "But, Harry, the 
 lady's name is Marvin, not Marlin." 
 
 It was Somerdyke's turn to flush, and for a 
 second he stood silent, biting his lip. Then he 
 took a step toward Caryl. 
 
 "Come," he said impetuously, "you're going to 
 take pity on a poor lonely man and go to lunch 
 with him, aren't you? Please end all this squab- 
 bling by saying 'yes.' '
 
 An Introduction 91 
 
 But Caryl still hesitated, and looked uncertainly 
 from one man to the other. Somerdyke stood 
 directly in her line of vision, his lean face animated 
 and expectant. She noted with swift, silent ap- 
 proval how well his suit of English tweed fitted 
 him and how well groomed he was from his 
 tan shoes to his sleek hair. Then she looked at 
 her employer as he leaned nonchalantly against 
 the mantelshelf, a cynical half smile on his face. 
 Caryl hated him for that smile. He seemed so 
 certain of what she was going to do. Did he 
 really imagine that because he disapproved of her 
 lunching with his friend she would refuse the in- 
 vitation? At the thought she tossed her head 
 with a sudden defiant movement, and spoke 
 quietly, but decidedly. 
 
 "I shall be very glad to lunch with you, Mr. 
 Somerdyke," she said. 
 
 She looked again at Delaine as she spoke. The 
 hateful smile broadened. He shrugged his shoul- 
 ders. 
 
 "The matter appears to be settled," he ob- 
 served indifferently. "I would merely suggest, 
 Harry, that since I am employing Miss Marvin 
 until noon you are interfering with her work and 
 mine by staying here any longer just now. Please 
 complete your arrangements, and then go on and 
 let me get down to business again."
 
 92 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Your politeness is in keeping with your ideas 
 of hospitality, Kelley," sneered Somerdyke. "I 
 congratulate you upon them both. Miss Marvin, 
 I will be in the vestibule downstairs at twelve. 
 Good morning!" 
 
 He bowed to the girl and left the room without 
 another word to his host. Delaine watched him 
 until he disappeared into the hall, and the cynical 
 smile was still on his lips. When the outside 
 door had slammed he turned to his stenographer. 
 
 "Now, if you are quite ready, Miss Marvin," 
 he said impersonally, "we will try to go on." 
 
 Without answering, Caryl took up her note- 
 book. For a minute Delaine stood silent, looking 
 steadily at the girl. Her pretty, flower-like face 
 was flushed. A shaft of sunlight, streaming in 
 through the window, touched her hair and turned 
 it to bright gold. Once she flashed a quick glance 
 at him and he noticed how clear and childlike her 
 eyes were. At last she lifted her head and looked 
 at him again, this time interrogatively. 
 
 "Your sister is at home, I suppose?" he asked 
 abruptly. 
 
 "Yes," answered Caryl thoughtlessly. 
 
 He stood silent for a moment longer, a puzzled, 
 almost anxious, frown wrinkling his forehead. 
 The frown was still there when he began to speak. 
 
 "You will excuse me, I hope, Miss Marvin," he 
 said slowly, "if I seem officious or, in other words,
 
 An Introduction 93 
 
 if I 'butt in' upon your affairs. But don't you 
 think that perhaps it would be wise to consult your 
 sister before you accept any invitation from a man 
 whom you scarcely know? Now don't be vexed" 
 as he saw her flush "for I mean it kindly. You 
 are very young, and you don't know life very well 
 yet. And, anyway," with a sudden smile, "it won't 
 mar your enjoyment of any pleasure to know that 
 your sister knows of it and approves of it, now, 
 will it?" 
 
 He stopped; then, as she did not reply, he spoke 
 again, but in a more formal tone. 
 
 "I have decided, upon second thoughts," he told 
 her, "not to dictate any more this morning. There 
 is some business I can attend to instead for," 
 with a forced laugh, "Somerdyke's interruption 
 has thrown me off the track of thought. So, Miss 
 Marvin, I will not detain you any longer though 
 of course if you are not ready to leave yet you are 
 at liberty to remain here as long as you wish." 
 
 "Thank you," she said coldly. 
 
 "Here," he added, "is to-day's paper if you wish 
 to look it over while you are waiting. Good 
 morning!" 
 
 "Good morning," replied the girl, without 
 meeting his keen gaze. 
 
 Listening, after he had left the room, she heard 
 him speak to Wang in the outer hall, then go out 
 of the apartment.
 
 VIII 
 
 DELAINE VISITS BAIRD's SHOP 
 
 FOR some minutes after Kelley Delaine went 
 out Caryl sat motionless, just where he had left 
 her. She felt a strong inclination to cry. She re- 
 sented his interference in her plans, yet in the bot- 
 tom of her heart she appreciated that he had right 
 on his side. But why need there always be some- 
 thing to mar her enjoyment, just when she might 
 be so happy in anticipation of the first bit of 
 pleasure she had had in New York? Delaine 
 had to remind her what her sister would say. 
 What did he know about her sister, anyway? Ab- 
 solutely nothing! He had seen her once and then 
 only for a moment, so how did he know what kind 
 of a girl she was? And even if he did know, what 
 business was it of his where his stenographer went 
 or what she did? Suddenly her vanity suggested 
 a solution to her question. He was jealous of 
 Somerdyke. That was it. He was angry and re- 
 sentful because his friend had gotten ahead of him 
 in asking the girl out to luncheon. 
 
 At this thought Caryl's spirits rose, the smile 
 
 94
 
 Delaine Visits Baird's Shop 95 
 
 returned to her lips and the light to her eyes. 
 She glanced at the clock and saw that it still 
 lacked an hour of the time that she was to meet 
 Somerdyke. She might begin to transcribe some 
 of the dictation that she had taken down in short- 
 hand. She glanced over her notes and tried to 
 read the first sentence of Delaine's story. She 
 found it hard work, and was disturbed because it 
 took her almost five minutes to decipher twenty- 
 five words. 
 
 How would she ever get along if it was so diffi- 
 cult to read her own characters? Still she com- 
 forted herself with the thought that practice would 
 perfect her in this line. Besides she was so nerv- 
 ous now that she could not concentrate her 
 thoughts. Kelley Delaine had she mused with 
 vexation made matters hard for her by his as- 
 sumption of authority. A jealous man was so 
 unreasonable. Then she smiled again and decided 
 that, as so much of the morning was gone, it would 
 be foolish to fuss over her work any longer. If 
 she hurried she might be able to go home and put 
 on her best dress before 12 o'clock. She did not 
 pause to reflect that if Somerdyke noticed the 
 change in her costume he would attribute it to a 
 desire on her part to impress him. She was too 
 eager to be cautious or to feel a proper sense of 
 pride.
 
 96 The Two Sisters 
 
 Donning her hat and jacket, she hastened from 
 the apartment, leaving her notes behind her on 
 the typewriter table. When she reached the street 
 she ran for a passing car and transferred from 
 that to a line that went near her home. The 
 weather had changed since yesterday, the atmos- 
 phere was warm and muggy and the humidity in- 
 tense. In her room Caryl tore off her shirtwaist 
 and serge skirt and felt the perspiration course 
 down her face. Without waiting to pick up her 
 clothing from the floor where she had dropped 
 it, she put on her light summer silk and her best 
 hat, washed her hands at the sink in the hall, fast- 
 ened a veil with large dots over her face and drew 
 on her only pair of light silk gloves. Looking in 
 the mirror, she noted that she was flushed crimson 
 and that the veil was already damp and clung to 
 her cheeks. The sight annoyed her and tears 
 sprang to her eyes. 
 
 "Oh, it's hateful to be poor!" she muttered. 
 "If I was rich I would have a maid to help me 
 dress, and I would not have to slave and get all 
 my fun on the sly. I hate this life, and if ever I 
 get a chance to get out of it, I'll do it! I don't 
 care what Julia and that prig of a man say to the 
 contrary! It's none of their business!" 
 
 On her way to the front door she met her land- 
 lady, who started with surprise. "Why, good
 
 Delaine Visits Baird's Shop 97 
 
 morning, Miss Caryl!" she exclaimed. "I 
 thought you was workin'. I hope nothings hap- 
 pened?" 
 
 "What should have happened?" asked Caryl, 
 somewhat tartly. 
 
 "I only meant," explained the kind-hearted 
 Irish woman, "that seein' you here at noon when 
 you don't generally get back till late afternoon 
 made me wonder if anything was wrong. But" 
 with a glance at the girl's costume "I see from 
 your dress that it's pleasure, not sickness, that's 
 brought you home." 
 
 "Yes," said Caryl awkwardly. "A friend and 
 I are going to lunch." 
 
 The woman looked at her with an anxious ex- 
 pression. "That's nice," she said dubiously. 
 "Well, take good care of yourself, won't you, 
 dearie?" 
 
 "Of course I will!" retorted Caryl testily. 
 "What harm could come of a nice girl and myself 
 lunching together?" 
 
 In her eagerness to be gone Caryl Marvin 
 brushed almost roughly past Mrs. Halloran, who 
 looked after her, the expression of anxiety in- 
 creased rather than lessened by the girl's flippant 
 speech. 
 
 "I mistrust me it ain't a girl you'll be lunchin' 
 with," she said, in a low voice, although there
 
 98 The Two Sisters 
 
 was nobody near to hear her soliloquy. "It's a 
 hundred pities when a workin' girl's as pretty as 
 you and so silly, too. It's your sister I'd trust 
 not you poor girl I" 
 
 Her exclamation of compassion was intended 
 rather for Julia than for Julia's sister. 
 
 It was with flushed cheeks that Caryl alighted 
 at the corner below the studio-building and has- 
 tened to meet Somerdyke. He was awaiting her 
 in the vestibule, as she knew he would be. His 
 back was toward the door by which she entered 
 and she was by his elbow and had spoken his name 
 before he saw her. Then he started in surprise. 
 
 "Hallo!" he exclaimed. "I have been watch- 
 ing the elevator for the past ten minutes, expect- 
 ing you to come down from Delaine's apartment. 
 Where have you been?" 
 
 Then, as his eyes took in her change of costume 
 and rather conspicuous dress, she fancied that a 
 gleam of mingled amusement and cynicism lighted 
 his eyes for a moment but, before she could be 
 certain, it was gone. 
 
 "Where shall we lunch?" asked Somerdyke, 
 after he and Caryl had shaken hands. "I always 
 like the lady to decide on the restaurant." 
 
 "How should I know where to go?" she asked 
 naively, lifting her deep blue eyes to his dark ones
 
 Delaine Visits Baird's Shop 99 
 
 and smiling bewitchingly. "You forget that I am 
 a stranger in New York." 
 
 "Then you don't know New York's fashionable 
 restaurants at all?" queried Somerdyke, as they 
 strolled slowly along the street. 
 
 "No," she admitted, shaking her head. "You 
 see my sister and I only came here last spring, 
 and I have been working so hard learning my pro- 
 fession that I have had no time to think of pleas- 
 ure of any kind. Now that I am a full-fledged 
 stenographer I shall have more leisure." 
 
 "I'll remember," said Somerdyke, and Caryl 
 appreciated that she had as good as told him that 
 she was now in a position to receive -invitations. 
 But he did not appear to notice her break, for he 
 suggested, without any further comment, "Sup- 
 pose we go to the Vanderbilt." 
 
 "All right," assented the girl demurely. She 
 tried not to let her voice quiver with delight. 
 She, Caryl Marvin, a poor stenographer, living 
 in a cheap lodging in West Twenty-second Street, 
 was going to the Vanderbilt ! How wonderful it 
 was and how she wished this experience could last 
 longer than an hour or two! The thought sug- 
 gested an idea to her. 
 
 "Why not walk there?" she asked. 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed Somerdyke. "Let's walk,
 
 ioo The Two Sisters 
 
 and that will give me a chance to attend to an er- 
 rand on the way over." 
 
 What the "errand" was was proved by his stop- 
 ping in a few minutes at a Broadway florist's and 
 buying a great mass of roses which he bade Caryl 
 fasten at her belt. The smiling salesman handed 
 her a long pin for the purpose, and she could 
 hardly suppress a gasp of surprise when she heard 
 him mention in a low voice to Somerdyke the price 
 of the pink beauties that the purchaser seemed to 
 value so lightly. 
 
 "Thank you ever and ever so much!" she said, 
 as they approached the street again. "These roses 
 are wonderful, and I do love flowers !" 
 
 "You should wear them always, child, and al- 
 ways of that hue of pink. They just match your 
 cheeks. No, they don't not now!" he teased as 
 her color deepened. "The American Beauty 
 makes the other roses pale by contrast." 
 
 While Somerdyke and the waiter were in con- 
 sultation, she leaned back in her chair and looked 
 about her. How cool and how lovely it was in 
 here ! Ah, this kind of thing was life the life 
 for which she was intended! She glanced at the 
 other women in the restaurant and was surprised 
 to see how unostentatiously some of them were 
 dressed. A man and woman passed, and Caryl's 
 eyes followed the woman's perfect figure won-
 
 Delaine Visits Baird's Shop 101 
 
 deringly. How swell she looked, and yet how 
 simple her clothes were ! 
 
 "What are you thinking about?" asked Somer- 
 dyke, and she started from her musings at the 
 sound of his voice. "I have been watching you 
 for fully three minutes, and you have not looked 
 in my direction once. What were you thinking 
 of?" 
 
 "I was thinking," she declared bluntly, "of how 
 I love all the fine things that rich people can en- 
 joy and especially how much I do love pretty 
 clothes, and I was wishing I could have all of 
 them that I would like to have!" 
 
 There came into his eyes a look she did not 
 understand a mingling of cynicism and specula- 
 tion. 
 
 At noon of the day on which Caryl Marvin 
 lunched with Harry Somerdyke, Julia Marvin 
 turned with a wan smile to a fellow saleswoman 
 at the lace counter. 
 
 "Don't you want to go to lunch now, Miss Mc- 
 Donough?" she queried. "The rush will be less 
 for the next hour or so, and you must be tired. I 
 know I am." 
 
 "Gee!" ejaculated Laura McDonough, rolling 
 her eyes dramatically and smoothing the wrinkles 
 in her skirt down from an over-slim waist, "it's
 
 102 The Two Sisters 
 
 been something fierce to-day. I suppose the early 
 fall shopping's begun. That last old hen that 
 was here was the limit, turning over the whole 
 darned stock and then deciding that she didn't 
 want anything. How you ever was so polite to 
 her gets me!" 
 
 "She was hard to please," Julia admitted, with 
 a sigh. "Poor old soul! She comes from away 
 out in New Jersey, and she told me that she gets 
 into the city only once a year. She was looking 
 for lace for her daughter's wedding gown. 'Em- 
 mie's going to marry one of the finest young gen- 
 tlemen in or near Wortendyke,' she said." 
 
 "Well, I don't see how you do it," declared 
 Laura McDonough, half enviously, half scorn- 
 fully. 
 
 "Do what?" 
 
 "Learn so much about the terrible looking 
 frumps that blow in here. They bore me to ex- 
 tinction," she lisped with an intimation of what 
 she considered ladylike languor. 
 
 "They interest me," smiled Julia. "That's the 
 'how' of it. They don't bore me a bit. Now run 
 along and get your lunch. I'm going next and I 
 may starve if you don't hurry." 
 
 "I'll be back in half an hour," promised the 
 girl, as she hastened away. 
 
 Baird's store is one in which the comfort and
 
 "I I BEG YOUR PARDON, Bur AREN'T You 
 Miss JULIA MARVIN"
 
 Delaine Visits Baird's Shop 103 
 
 welfare of employees receive some consideration, 
 so there were, here and there, chairs behind the 
 various counters, and a saleswoman was allowed 
 to sit down when there were no customers at her 
 counter. Julia sank into a chair and closed her 
 eyes. It had been a hard morning, and would-be 
 buyers had been, it seemed to her, more exacting 
 than usual. Her head ached; her back was tired; 
 her feet were swollen with much standing. She 
 was so fagged that she felt as if she could go to 
 sleep here and now. 
 
 She aroused herself with a start and looked 
 down the length of the lace littered counter. 
 Three other girls in her department were grouped 
 together chatting and giggling, ignoring the dis- 
 ordered condition of the stock. With a stifled 
 sigh Julia arose and set to work to straighten out 
 the tumbled finery. So occupied was she in her 
 task that she did not see a man who, passing 
 down the aisle, stopped short with a smothered 
 exclamation. He stood in front of her for a half 
 minute before, lifting her head, she saw him. 
 
 "What can I do for you, sir?" she asked auto- 
 matically, coming forward. 
 
 The man hesitated. "I I beg your pardon," 
 he said, "but surely I must be mistaken, yet ex- 
 cuse me, but aren't you Miss Julia Marvin?"
 
 104 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Yes," answered Julia, amazed, "I am, but you 
 have the advantage of me. I do not know you." 
 
 "But what are you doing here ?" he blurted out 
 impetuously. The question did not sound imperti- 
 nent, coming from him, for he was evidently em- 
 barrassed, and even in her surprise the girl took 
 note of his courteous bearing and indefinable air 
 of good breeding. 
 
 "Perhaps," she said gravely, "if you will tell 
 me who you are it will be easier to explain mat- 
 ters." 
 
 "My name is Kelley Delaine," he told her. 
 "Your sister I think is in my employ as ste- 
 nographer. I have also had the pleasure of seeing 
 you once before, but possibly you may not re- 
 member." 
 
 "I don't remember your face," the girl con- 
 fessed frankly, "but I do remember that I am 
 under a debt of gratitude to you, Mr. Delaine. 
 My sister told me yesterday that you were the 
 man who saved her life the night that she was 
 nearly run over." 
 
 "But what," persisted the author, "are you 
 doing in this place? Are you trying to get local 
 color or what?" 
 
 "I'm working here," Julia replied simply. 
 
 "Of course, I can see that," persisted the man y 
 "but why?"
 
 Delaine Visits Baird's Shop 105 
 
 "To get bread and butter," responded Julia. 
 She was not ashamed of the truth, yet she faltered 
 a little as she continued, "I am earning my own 
 living, you know." 
 
 "But your sister" began Delaine, puzzled, 
 then checked himself. 
 
 "Yes, my sister had a little money of her own 
 and she spent it in learning stenography," she ex- 
 plained, mistaking the cause of his wonder. 
 
 "I see," said Delaine slowly, dropping his eyes 
 before her frank gaze. "Then you are alone in 
 the city," he added, "you and your sister." 
 
 "Quite alone," Julia affirmed. Even as she 
 spoke she wondered that she felt no resentment 
 at this strange man's questions and evident inter- 
 est or curiosity. 
 
 "I see," Delaine repeated. "Have you ever 
 written anything for publication, Miss Marvin?" 
 
 The girl laughed out in surprise at the sugges- 
 tion. "I!" she exclaimed. "No, indeed! I only 
 wish I had the ability to do something more worth 
 while than standing behind a counter. But I 
 haven't." Then, as she spoke, she became aware 
 that the other saleswomen at her counter were 
 looking in her direction, and her manner changed 
 quickly. "Is there any especial kind of lace that 
 you are looking for, Mr. Delaine?" she asked 
 stiffly.
 
 io6 The Two Sisters 
 
 The man ignored her question, and spoke stam- 
 meringly. "I hope you won't be angry with me," 
 he said, "though you have a right to be, I suppose, 
 but would you think it rank impertinence, Miss 
 Marvin, if I were to beg you to consider our 
 former meeting as an introduction, and to ask you 
 to go to luncheon with me this noon?" 
 
 Then he stopped, flushing scarlet as he remem- 
 bered that he was doing the very thing for which 
 he had snubbed Harry Somerdyke only an hour 
 ago.
 
 IX 
 
 CARYL TASTES FREEDOM 
 
 IT would be hard to say which looked the more 
 embarrassed after the invitation to luncheon had 
 been given Kelley Delaine or Julia Marvin. The 
 man saw that the girl was unpleasantly surprised. 
 She could not know how he had longed to meet 
 her. To her he was simply a writer who had em- 
 ployed her sister as his stenographer. Yet some- 
 thing made her feel that he was a gentleman and 
 it was with an effort that she forced herself to 
 appreciate that, after all, he was a person of 
 whom she knew nothing. 
 
 His manner gave her confidence, and she was 
 almost certain that he was a man whom one could 
 trust. Still, in spite of this, the situation was too 
 unconventional for her to approve of it. And all 
 the while that these thoughts were passing through 
 Julia Marvin's mind the saleswomen at her coun- 
 ter were watching her curiously. This knowledge 
 made her flush uncomfortably. 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Delaine," she said, some- 
 107
 
 io8 The Two Sisters 
 
 what stiffly, "but you must excuse me. I cannot 
 accept your invitation." 
 
 "Why not?" asked the man bluntly. 
 
 "Because," said the girl, "I am not in the habit 
 of lunching with strangers. I do not mean to be 
 unkind, but as I am paid to attend to my work at 
 this counter I have no right to stand here talking 
 any longer. Besides" dropping her voice and 
 glancing uneasily at the other girls "this kind of 
 an interview attracts disagreeable comment." 
 
 It was the man's turn to flush now. "I beg 
 your pardon!" he exclaimed. "I have been very 
 thoughtless, and I feel properly rebuked." He 
 hesitated, then added, "I will get your address 
 from your sister if you don't mind. Good morn- 
 ing!'; 
 
 Without waiting for her reply, he lifted his hat 
 and walked rapidly away, while Julia began with 
 unsteady hands to put away the laces that she had 
 been arranging before Delaine came. He had 
 only been with her for three or four minutes, but 
 somehow there were many things he had said 
 that she would like to think over. But this was 
 not the time nor the place for such thoughts. 
 Then she took herself sharply to task. Why 
 should she let any man of whose birth, breeding 
 and habits she knew nothing affect her as this man 
 had done ? What did she know of his true self ?
 
 Caryl Tastes Freedom 109 
 
 "Where did you pick up your gentleman 
 friend?" asked a voice. 
 
 Julia started violently and found Minnie Mai- 
 brunn, a salesgirl, standing close by her. 
 
 "I say," Minnie went on, "he's some class, eh? 
 Ever seen him before?" 
 
 "Certainly," replied Julia gravely. "I hope 
 you do not think I would talk to a man I had never 
 met, do you?" 
 
 "Where did you meet him?" queried the girl 
 curiously. "He looks like a regular rich guy, 
 don't he?" 
 
 "I don't think he looks especially rich," said 
 Julia indifferently. "I don't know if he has money 
 or not, and I don't care." 
 
 "But where did you meet him?" persisted Min- 
 nie. 
 
 "Here in New York, of course. An intimate 
 friend of mine is in his employ." 
 
 "Oh, I see," said Minnie. "When are you 
 going to see him again?" 
 
 Julia looked at her coldly. "Really," she said, 
 "I do not know that I shall ever see him again, 
 and it is perfectly immaterial to me whether I do 
 or not." 
 
 As she uttered the words she wondered if she 
 spoke the truth. Minnie Maibrunn bridled with 
 vexation.
 
 no The Two Sisters 
 
 "Well," she retorted, "you've no need to be so 
 snippy about it, anyhow. I didn't mean to offend 
 you by asking a simple, friendly question in a 
 perfectly polite way." 
 
 Julia smiled kindly and laid her hand on the 
 girl's arm. "I beg your pardon if I spoke sharp- 
 ly," she said. "To tell the truth, I'm tired and 
 hungry, and these laces are in an awful mess." 
 
 "I'll help you put them to rights," said Minnie, 
 mollified by Julia's repentant tone and manner. 
 "I don't wonder you feel cross. I guess we all 
 get that way when we're over-tired." 
 
 As Julia Marvin walked homeward late that 
 afternoon she pondered on the events of the day, 
 but especially on the few minutes that Delaine 
 had spent in conversing with her. Why had he 
 said that he would get her address from Caryl? 
 It would be mortifying to have him come to the 
 house where she and her sister lived. Not that 
 Julia was ashamed of the fact that she must live 
 in cheap lodgings, but there was no place in which 
 she could receive callers. 
 
 Moreover, this man was evidently one of the 
 class who are used to nice things and to luxuries, 
 and she was but a poor working girl. She did not 
 want to have any man condescend to her. She 
 would be treated as an equal or she would have 
 nothing to do with him. But perhaps she would
 
 Caryl Tastes Freedom HI 
 
 never see him again. She would certainly forbid 
 Caryl to give him the address of Mrs. Halloran's 
 house. She did not believe that Caryl herself 
 would be anxious to have her employer know just 
 where she lived. The child was foolishly ashamed 
 of their poverty. But in this case her false pride 
 might stand them in good stead. 
 
 At all events the two girls could talk the matter 
 over that evening and settle their plan of action. 
 Of course Caryl was at home long ago. Julia 
 was glad that the child had such easy hours, for 
 it gave her plenty of time to rest, and the older 
 girl had always felt that her little sister needed 
 more care than she. Besides that, Caryl did not 
 like work, and were her hours long she might 
 not have courage or desire to persevere. 
 
 When Julia Marvin had climbed the two flights 
 of stairs to her room and opened the door she 
 stood amazed. Caryl was not there, but on the 
 floor lay the dress she had worn to work that 
 morning, and the room showed evidences of haste 
 on the part of the person who had last dressed 
 there. 
 
 Where could Caryl be? It was half past six, 
 and she was usually at home by half past three at 
 the latest. Could anything have happened to 
 her? Her sister pressed her hands together 
 tightly in a sudden spasm of fear, and hurrying
 
 H2 The Two Sisters 
 
 across the room, looked out of the window. 
 Surely she must be coming now ! 
 
 The afternoon had sped by all too quickly for 
 Caryl Marvin. She and Somerdyke had lingered 
 long over the luncheon table. The man had sug- 
 gested that she take a glass of wine with him. 
 She had demurred at first, saying that she had not 
 liked the only wine she had ever tasted. But 
 Somerdyke had ordered a mixture which he called 
 "Rhine wine cup," and she found this to be such 
 a pleasant beverage that she took enough of it to 
 make her feel strangely happy and careless. 
 
 After luncheon, Somerdyke proposed that they 
 spend an hour in the Bronx, and here they wan- 
 dered through the park until Caryl said she must 
 go back home. "The sun is getting low in the 
 West," she remarked. 
 
 "Why not dine with me somewhere?" the man 
 asked. 
 
 But the girl was beginning to feel the reaction 
 from the unaccustomed gayety of the past few 
 hours, and the exhilaration caused by the wine 
 had passed off, leaving in its stead a sense of 
 weariness and depression. 
 
 "No," she said listlessly. "My sister would 
 worry about me, and besides I am not dressed 
 for dinner. I must go right home, please." 
 
 "You look mighty sweet," the man observed
 
 Caryl Tastes Freedom 113 
 
 as they emerged from the subway at Forty-second 
 Street. In her present mood Caryl did not be- 
 lieve him. Her light silk was draggled and dusty, 
 for she had trailed its length along paths and 
 roads this afternoon. Her white silk gloves were 
 soiled. She felt straggling wisps of her hair 
 clinging to her warm face and to her neck, damp 
 with perspiration. She wished she was in her 
 own room, where she could rest and get cool. 
 Somerdyke, noting her change of mood, spoke 
 regretfully. 
 
 "You're tired out," he said, "and it's all my 
 fault. If you really must go home, you must 
 promise to come with me again sometime. Now I 
 shall call a taxicab and take you to your apart- 
 ment." 
 
 The possibility of this complication had not oc- 
 curred to Caryl. She had supposed she would 
 part from Somerdyke, as she had met him, in a 
 public place, and then go alone to her home. She 
 was frightened at the thought of having her com- 
 panion see the shabby lodging house on Twenty- 
 second Street. 
 
 "Oh, no," she protested, "I prefer going alone 
 really I do." 
 
 "But I will not allow you to do so," Somerdyke 
 declared firmly. "I am not in the habit of taking 
 a lady out to luncheon and trotting her about the
 
 H4 The Two Sisters 
 
 city until she is worn out, then leaving her to get 
 herself home as best she can. We will take a cab, 
 my dear child, and you shall ride comfortably to 
 your destination." 
 
 What could she do ? "I don't think," she stam- 
 mered, "that my sister would quite approve of my 
 coming home alone with a man." 
 
 Her escort laughed teasingly. "Afraid of sis- 
 ter, eh?" he bantered. "Well, you needn't tell 
 her that a dreadful man brought you home. She 
 is not likely to be hanging out of the front window 
 of your apartment watching for you, is she?" 
 
 "No but " she faltered, "I have an er- 
 rand to attend to on my way downtown. There is 
 a friend I was to call on late this afternoon, and 
 she will be expecting me." 
 
 The man looked at her keenly. "Where does 
 the friend live?" he asked. 
 
 The girl thought fast. She must invent some 
 excuse. This man knew she was a stranger here 
 and that she had no friends living in New York. 
 
 "Oh," she explained, "she does not live in New 
 York at all. She is from my old home and is 
 stopping in the city for only a day or two. That 
 is the reason I must see her this afternoon. She 
 will be leaving to-morrow morning." 
 
 "I see," mused Somerdyke. "Where is she 
 stopping?"
 
 Caryl Tastes Freedom 115 
 
 The only hotel whose name came to the girl's 
 mind at the instant was the Waldorf. 
 
 "She's at the Waldorf-Astoria," she answered 
 quickly. 
 
 "Then we will take a cab there," Somerdyke 
 said. "You shall not walk when you are so tired. 
 You can make your call and I will wait downstairs 
 for you." 
 
 Again she was startled at the position in which 
 she might possibly be put. Surely she had need 
 of all her wits at this juncture ! 
 
 "Oh, no, you must not wait," she begged. "It 
 would make me nervous to think I was taking so 
 much of your time." 
 
 "I have time to burn," the man informed her. 
 
 "Perhaps you have, but to .tell you the truth 
 it may be that I shall decide to stay and dine with 
 my friend." 
 
 "But you said your sister would be worried if 
 you did not return to dinner," the man reminded 
 her. 
 
 "Oh, well, I can telephone her," she said. The 
 idea of a telephone in Mrs. Halloran's cheap 
 lodging house was so grotesque that she felt her 
 lips twitch with amusement in spite of her present 
 predicament. 
 
 "All right," agreed Somerdyke, with reluctance. 
 
 He assisted her into a taxicab he had hailed,
 
 n6 The Two Sisters 
 
 seating himself beside her after directing the 
 chauffeur where to go. There ensued an awk- 
 ward silence, and the cab had turned into Thirty- 
 third Street before Caryl spoke. 
 
 "My friend is very fussy," she said timidly, 
 "and I am afraid she would think it shocking if 
 she knew that I was going about New York with 
 a man whom she did not know as a friend of my 
 family. We might meet her if you went into the 
 hotel with me, so please don't go in." 
 
 "Very well," replied the man. He would argue 
 the matter no longer. At the hotel entrance he 
 helped her to alight and stood, head uncovered, 
 as he shook hands with her. 
 
 "Good-bye," he said softly, "until we meet 
 again. By the way, I want your address." 
 
 "I'll mail it to you," she replied hastily. "Good- 
 bye, and thank you." 
 
 "See here,'" he began, but she hurried away 
 without giving him time to remind her that she 
 had not his address. He stood looking after her 
 as she entered the hotel, then, with a shrug of the 
 shoulders, handed the fare to the cabman, and, 
 when the fellow drove off, stood for a long mo- 
 ment thinking.
 
 'A TANGLED WEB" 
 
 CARYL MARVIN paused uncertainly after the 
 doorman had ushered her into the lobby of the 
 Waldorf-Astoria. Until now she had never been 
 in a large hotel, and the place surprised her. Al- 
 though it was only early September there seemed 
 to the unsophisticated girl to be many people 
 standing about. What must the crowds here be 
 when the season was in full swing! Seeing her 
 hesitation and embarrassment, the man who had 
 opened the door for her to enter accosted her 
 politely. 
 
 "Is there anywhere especial you wish to go 
 where I can direct you?" he asked. "Or is there 
 someone you wish to see?" 
 
 "Oh, no," she stammered. "I was to meet a 
 friend here that's all." 
 
 "Perhaps in the Turkish room there," he sug- 
 gested, pointing to the shaded room with its col- 
 ored lights glowing in the dusky corners. 
 
 "I'll wait there for her," said Caryl, entering 
 and seating herself. 
 
 117
 
 n8 The Two Sisters 
 
 As soon as the man had stepped out of sight 
 the girl got up hastily and glided swiftly from the 
 room into the hall beyond it. Here she turned to 
 the left and soon found herself crossing a corridor 
 in which people were seated, doing, apparently, 
 nothing but looking at other people. She paused 
 again and addressed a passing attendant. 
 
 "Where is the other entrance to the hotel?" 
 she asked tremulously. "Isn't there another en- 
 trance besides the one back there?" 
 
 "Certainly," replied the man with the patroniz- 
 ing air peculiar to his kind. "Go right across and 
 through there and you will get to it." 
 
 Caryl drew a sigh of relief as she followed di- 
 rections. Soon she would be out of this big and 
 strange place and on her way home. She was fa- 
 miliar with Thirty-fourth Street, having gone 
 through it sundry times in a cross-town car. When 
 she emerged from the hotel she looked about her, 
 then, getting her bearings, she walked almost 
 fan for the first few steps toward Sixth Avenue. 
 
 It was well for her peace of mind that she did 
 not look behind her. Had she done so she would 
 have seen her recent escort standing in the door 
 by which she had just passed out. 
 
 "Yes," he muttered to himself, as she disap- 
 peared from his sight, "she is a little liar, no 
 doubt, but an interesting study, nevertheless. The
 
 "A Tangled Web" 119 
 
 fact that her wits work quickly makes her much 
 more fun than if she were one of the common- 
 place, timid kind. Vain as a peacock, too but 
 evidently new at the man-game. I must see her 
 again soon!" 
 
 With which determination he lighted a cigar 
 and decided to look up Kelley Delaine and make 
 his peace with him. 
 
 Thus it came about that as Julia Marvin looked 
 anxiously from her window on the second floor of 
 Mrs. Halloran's lodging house she saw her sister 
 coming wearily homeward. The child had a jaded 
 look, Julia noted, and walked as if she were ill. 
 Then as she remembered the discarded dress that 
 still lay on the floor, and observed the light silk 
 gown which Caryl wore, she was more mystified 
 than before. "Where can she have been?" she 
 muttered uneasily. 
 
 By the time Caryl had reached the room in 
 which her sister anxiously awaited her, Julia had 
 hung up the dress so carelessly dropped by the 
 wearer, had taken off her own hat, and was trying 
 to look as if she had not been frightened by the 
 younger girl's absence. 
 
 "Well, little sister," she said, with an effort to 
 speak lightly, "I was just wondering where you 
 were." 
 
 "For pity's sake," Caryl broke in impatiently,
 
 I2O The Two Sisters 
 
 "don't begin to ask questions as soon as I get into 
 the room ! I'm too tired to want to answer your 
 catechism." 
 
 Julia flushed. "You must be very tired, my 
 dear, to speak like that, when I have not asked you 
 anything." 
 
 "I am tired!" repeated the girl. She walked 
 over to the mirror and surveyed her perspiring 
 face with keen dissatisfaction. 
 
 "Don't I look like a fright!" she exclaimed. 
 "You know I do, so don't say I don't! I never 
 can have nice things such as most girls have, and 
 I never can go where I please without knowing 
 that I have to give an account of myself. Of 
 course you'll insist on knowing just what I've been 
 doing every minute of the day. Well, then, I'll 
 tell you. I did my work this morning and then 
 I came home and changed one shabby dress for 
 another that's not much better cheap rags, both 
 of them and then I went out to luncheon." 
 
 "To luncheon?" repeated Julia. "But why 
 change your dress for that?" 
 
 "Because," said the girl, tossing her head, "I 
 went with a gentleman." 
 
 "Oh!" gasped Julia. It was but a monosylla- 
 ble, yet the tone in which it was uttered conveyed 
 consternation, anxiety and disapproval. Caryl 
 had spoken of a strange man Mr. Delaine's
 
 "A Tangled Web" 121 
 
 friend who had wanted to know her surely 
 Mr. Delaine would not have allowed this man to 
 take her out to luncheon. 
 
 "You did not go with that man who called on 
 your employer yesterday did you, dear?" she 
 queried tremulously "not with a complete stran- 
 ger surely, Caryl?" 
 
 If Julia knew the truth all the fun would be 
 spoiled. 
 
 "Oh, don't look so horrified!" Caryl exclaimed. 
 "I suppose I had a right to go out to lunch with 
 my employer when he asked me, Julia Marvin!" 
 
 Julia's gasp of astonishment as she heard that 
 Delaine had asked his stenographer to lunch with 
 him surprised Caryl. 
 
 "He asked you to lunch with him!" exclaimed 
 Julia. 
 
 "Well, why not?" asked Caryl indignantly. 
 "Do you consider me so very unattractive that a 
 man would not want to take me anywhere?" 
 
 For a moment Julia did not reply, and Caryl 
 repeated her question, "Do you think it strange 
 that a man should want me to go to luncheon with 
 him?" she insisted. 
 
 "Why, no," Julia answered slowly, "it's not 
 that, but I was surprised to know that Mr. De- 
 laine had invited you."
 
 122 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Julia could not invent reasons as glibly as could 
 Caryl, and she hesitated before replying. 
 
 "Because I did not think he was the kind of 
 person to ask an employee to meet him as a social 
 equal the second day that he knew her and " 
 
 She paused, confused, and Caryl spoke up in- 
 dignantly. 
 
 "Upon my word!" she burst forth. "A social 
 equal, indeed! I'll have you understand, Julia, 
 that I consider myself quite as good as Kelley De- 
 laine any day in the week. Just because I happen 
 to have to work for him does not make me an 
 underling, does it?" 
 
 "No," protested her sister, "I do not mean that 
 at all. What I do mean is that one would expect 
 a gentleman to have enough care for the con- 
 ventions and enough respect for a young girl in 
 his employ to wait a reasonable time before pay- 
 ing her such attentions as you suggest. I had not 
 thought Mr. Delaine would forget what was due 
 you. He seemed different, somehow." 
 
 "Much you know about him !" retorted Caryl. 
 "You never spoke to him or saw him but that one 
 night when he saved my life my life, please re- 
 member, not yours so you saw even less of him 
 then than I did."
 
 "A Tangled Web" 123 
 
 Again Julia shrank from deception and forced 
 herself to speak the truth. 
 
 "I have seen him once since then," she con- 
 fessed, "but of course I do not know him really." 
 
 It was Caryl's turn to look amazed. "You 
 have seen him once since then!" she repeated. 
 She flushed angrily. "You have been very careful 
 to keep it from me. I think you might have been 
 as frank with me as I have been with you." 
 
 Then she blushed as she recollected with what 
 measure of frankness she had treated her sister. 
 Julia, seeing the blush, attributed it to Caryl's 
 indignation at what she deemed to be the other's 
 lack of candor. 
 
 "I have hardly had time to tell you of my sec- 
 ond meeting with Mr. Delaine," she explained, 
 "as it took place only to-day." 
 
 "To-day? Where?" Caryl asked quickly. 
 
 "He came into the store," replied the older 
 girl. 
 
 The color left Caryl's cheeks and she sat gazing 
 at her sister, her eyes wide and startled. Kelley 
 Delaine had been to the store in which Julia 
 worked, and she, Caryl, had told him that her 
 sister lived at home and wrote for the magazines I 
 Had he discovered that she had lied to him? She 
 was afraid to ask, yet could not endure the agony 
 of uncertainty.
 
 124 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Did did he see you did he speak to you?" 
 she questioned in a low voice. 
 
 Julia, noting the change in the girl's face, felt 
 a pang of fear. Was it possible that Caryl fan- 
 cied herself already fond of this man? Nothing 
 else, she thought, could account for her look of 
 distress when she spoke of the possibility of his 
 having had a talk with another girl. Was the 
 child so foolish as to be jealous because her em- 
 ployer had spoken to her sister? Poor Caryl! 
 how young and impressionable she was ! 
 
 "Yes, dear," she responded guardedly. "He 
 saw me before I saw him. Then he spoke to me 
 recalling himself to my memory." 
 
 "How did he know you were working in Baird's 
 store?" asked Caryl tremulously. 
 
 "I don't think he did know it until then," re- 
 plied Julia. "At least he seemed much surprised 
 when he saw me. In fact he asked me how I 
 happened to be there." 
 
 "And what did you tell him?" The question 
 was eager. 
 
 "The truth, of course. I said I was working 
 there, earning my living. Even if he did look as- 
 tonished, I didn't care. What else could I tell 
 him, even if I had wanted to lie and I certainly 
 did not want to." 
 
 "Told him! you ought to have told him any-
 
 "A Tangled Web" 125 
 
 thing else !" Caryl declared, springing to her feet, 
 her lips twitching, and tears filling her eyes. "Why 
 need you tell him that dreadful thing why need 
 you, I say?" 
 
 Her sister tried to quiet her. "Dear little 
 girl," she soothed, "there is nothing dreadful in 
 telling the truth about one's work. You are earn- 
 ing your living in one way, and I in another. Both 
 ways are honorable. Surely your employer would 
 think none the less of you because your sister 
 stands behind a counter in Baird's very respec- 
 table department store." 
 
 "Yes, he will! You don't know what you are 
 talking about you don't know anything about 
 it!" the younger girl burst forth. "Why couldn't 
 you hold your tongue why need you have let him 
 know who you were anyway? You could have 
 pretended to be somebody else couldn't you? 
 Oh, you have just spoiled everything for me ! You 
 always do! I wish I was dead and out of it all!" 
 
 With which wail of despair Caryl threw herself 
 face downward on the bed, sobbing bitterly. 
 
 It sometimes happens that when we wish to be 
 frank and candid with those who have, we be- 
 lieve, a right to know the truth, they defeat our 
 aims by making it difficult for us to tell them the 
 facts as they exist. Some such thought as this 
 passed through Julia's mind as she saw Caryl's
 
 126 The Two Sisters 
 
 paroxysm of anger and resentment. If the girl 
 was going to receive information in this spirit how 
 could one be frank with her? 
 
 As Julia had sprung to the conclusion that 
 Caryl was so fond of Kelley Delaine that she was 
 wounded because he had introduced himself to 
 another girl, she could not suspect that Caryl's 
 emotion was that of fear lest her employer had 
 discovered the web of falsehoods which she had 
 woven. Julia's one idea was to check the pas- 
 sionate crying which might be heard by other lodg- 
 ers, and to do this she must make light of her in- 
 terview with Delaine. 
 
 "Caryl, dear," she begged, laying a caressing 
 hand on the bowed head, "please be quiet and 
 listen to what I have to say, or Mrs. Halloran 
 will be up to find out what's the matter." 
 
 Caryl pushed away the would-be restraining 
 hand. "There's enough the matter!" she ex- 
 claimed. "You've spoiled everything, I tell 
 you!" 
 
 "Spoiled everything?" repeated Julia, more 
 mystified than ever. This was the second time 
 Caryl had made this assertion, and it puzzled her. 
 "I do not see how I could have spoiled anything 
 when I had such a little bit of a talk with Mr. 
 Delaine."
 
 "A Tangled Web" 127 
 
 "But you told him" accused Caryl, then be- 
 gan to sob afresh. 
 
 "I told him," said Julia, with determined pa- 
 tience, "that I was earning my own living. That 
 was the truth, and I fail to see what harm it did." 
 
 A sudden thought flashed through Caryl's mind. 
 Why might she not tell Delaine that her sister 
 had decided to write a story about a working girl 
 in New York shops, and to this end had taken a 
 position in a department store for several weeks 
 in order to obtain such facts as she desired? At 
 the idea her sobs ceased, and she wiped her eyes. 
 
 "Then you did not have time enough for him 
 to talk about me or to tell him much about our 
 life, did you?" asked Caryl tremulously, yet hope- 
 fully. 
 
 Julia, relieved at what promised to be a lull in 
 the storm, answered promptly. 
 
 "Dear," she said, "your name was scarcely 
 mentioned. I told Mr. Delaine that you had used 
 some of your own money to take a course in ste- 
 nography, and I only told him this as an explana- 
 tion of your position as his secretary and of the 
 fact that I had not taken up the same line of 
 work." 
 
 "Then what did he say?" queried Caryl eag- 
 erly. 
 
 "I do not remember, but surely nothing about
 
 128 The Two Sisters 
 
 you. In fact he stopped only a minute at my 
 counter, and, as I did not want to be seen chatting 
 with a man during business hours, I asked him if 
 I could show him any laces, and he went away at 
 once." 
 
 "Did he ask where you lived?" Again the 
 voice had a startled sound, and Julia replied 
 quickly. 
 
 "Yes and I did not tell him." 
 
 Caryl drew a deep breath of relief. "That's 
 good!" she exclaimed. "Perhaps, after all, no 
 mischief has been done. I do not want him to 
 know where we live." 
 
 "Neither do I," agreed her sister. 
 
 After a moment's silence Caryl gave a hysteri- 
 cal giggle. The recollection had come to her of 
 how she had eluded Somerdyke in his plan to as- 
 certain where her home was. Her sister looked 
 at her inquiringly. Caryl's swift transitions of 
 mood were always a wonder to her. 
 
 "What under the sun are you thinking of now, 
 Caryl?" she asked. "One minute you are over- 
 whelmed with grief, the next you are laughing." 
 
 "Oh, I just happened to remember something 
 funny," Caryl explained. "But I don't believe it 
 would interest you." 
 
 Julia pressed the question no further. Affairs 
 had now reached a point where both girls were
 
 "A Tangled Web" 129 
 
 keeping things from each other. Julia did not 
 mention the fact that Delaine had asked her to 
 lunch with him, nor that he had inquired of her 
 whether she wrote for publication or not. The 
 question she had forgotten for the time; she did 
 not speak of the invitation lest it should distress 
 her sister further. 
 
 Caryl had many things which she did not tell, 
 but for reasons very different from those that led 
 to Julia's reticence. Caryl knew her sister would 
 disapprove of her acceptance of Somerdyke's at- 
 tentions, also that she would be horrified could 
 she know of the falsehoods told to both Somer- 
 dyke and Delaine not to mention the lie told to 
 Julia herself about Delaine's having asked her 
 his stenographer to lunch with him to-day. 
 
 Especially did she appreciate that she must use 
 diplomacy to extricate herself from her present 
 predicament with Delaine, and that if Julia knew 
 of the position she was in she would forbid her 
 telling any more lies to explain those she had al- 
 ready told. Therefore both of the girls talked 
 lightly and rapidly of any matters except those 
 occupying their thoughts. 
 
 But under all her seeming indifference Julia 
 Marvin was conscious of a feeling of hurt at the 
 revelation made by Caryl of the nature of Kelley 
 Delaine. Somehow she had felt her little sister
 
 130 The Two Sisters 
 
 was safe with him, and yet he had asked this in- 
 experienced child to lunch with him on the second 
 day that she was in his employ. Of course, other 
 men did that kind of thing but he had seemed 
 different from other men. If his action was not 
 actually improper, it was certainly unconventional. 
 How foolish it was to trust any man anyhow 1 
 They were probably all alike ! 
 
 But she said nothing of all this, but, to put the 
 matter from her mind, glanced at her watch and 
 remarked that if they would not be late for din- 
 ner, it was time they got ready. To which sug- 
 gestion Caryl agreed without demur.
 
 XI 
 
 CARYL MEETS SOMERDYKE AGAIN 
 
 CARYL MARVIN stood before the door of De- 
 laine's apartment and listened to the hum of the 
 descending elevator. She started to push the 
 bell, then paused irresolute. For the hundredth 
 time she repeated to herself the story that she 
 had determined to tell the author. 
 
 Of course, he would bring up the subject of his 
 meeting with Julia in Baird's. He was always 
 talking about her. "Yes, Mr. Delaine," Caryl 
 had planned to say, "Julia told me she saw you. 
 She is playing shopgirl just now. She does all 
 kinds of funny things to get the real facts she 
 wants for her stories. She was really terribly em- 
 barrassed at meeting you in that way." 
 
 The girl repeated her fabrication glibly to her- 
 self, and, after another moment of hesitation, 
 rang the bell. The impassive Chinese servant 
 opened the door, and Caryl, nodding brightly to 
 him, went past him into the large room where she 
 was to work, the door of which stood open. De-
 
 132 The Two Sisters 
 
 laine was sitting at his desk absorbed in a manu- 
 script that lay before him. He looked up as Caryl 
 entered, and she felt herself flush under his steady 
 gaze. 
 
 "Ah! Sit down, Miss Marvin," he said po- 
 litely. "I will be ready for you very soon now." 
 
 He turned again to his manuscript, and Caryl, 
 after taking off her hat and jacket, uncovered her 
 machine and sat waiting. She watched the lean 
 face of the author warily. She wished he would 
 finish what he was doing and introduce the subject 
 of Julia. The suspense made her nervous and 
 fidgety. Twice she cleared her throat as if about 
 to speak, but the man did not raise his head from 
 his work. 
 
 The girl drummed an impatient little measure 
 on the table with her finger-tips, and kept her eyes 
 on Delaine. He was exceedingly good looking, 
 she thought. He was not as handsome as Somer- 
 dyke, but there was something older and kinder 
 in his face. As she watched him she felt almost 
 guilty at having accepted his friend's invitation 
 yesterday. She wondered if the author knew 
 that, in spite of his warning, she had lunched with 
 Somerdyke. 
 
 Delaine, glancing up suddenly, met her eyes. 
 She looked away quickly, and blushed confusedly. 
 
 "I shall be with you in an instant, Miss Mar-
 
 Caryl Meets Somerdyke Again 133 
 
 vin," he said, folding up the manuscript he had 
 been correcting. "How are you this fine day?" 
 
 "Very well," answered Caryl awkwardly. She 
 wished that if he was going to speak of Julia he 
 would do it now and get it over with. 
 
 "That's good," was all he said in reply. He 
 filled his pipe from a silver jar on the table, puf- 
 fing away for a few seconds in silence. 
 
 "Now," he announced at last, "we'll get to 
 work. I have about decided not to use that stuff 
 I dictated to you yesterday at least not yet. I 
 hope you are in the mood for dictation this morn- 
 ing, for I have a story that's been seething in my 
 mind ever since I awoke at dawn." 
 
 For the next hour Kelley Delaine strode up and 
 down the room, sucking on his old black briar 
 pipe, and dictating in short, forceful sentences. 
 When the quaint clock on the mantel chimed the 
 hour he paused. 
 
 "That will be all for to-day," he announced. 
 "I think it's about the best thing I ever did," he 
 added, as if to himself. 
 
 "It certainly interested me," Caryl smiled in -e- 
 turn, "though you kept me going too fast to giv e 
 me a chance to really appreciate it. It must be 
 wonderful to be able to write stories," she said 
 tentatively, and waited for his response. If he
 
 134 The Two Sisters 
 
 was going to speak of his conversation with Julia, 
 here was an opportunity for him to do so. 
 
 "It is wonderfully good fun," he answered ab- 
 stractedly, then turned again to his desk and sat 
 down. Biting her lip in vexation, Caryl began her 
 transcription. 
 
 The reading of her notes went more easily than 
 yesterday perhaps because she had been inter- 
 ested in the story and remembered whole sen- 
 tences of it. For a while only the clatter of the 
 typewriter broke the silence of the room. Then 
 the shrill whirr of the door-bell sounded, and in 
 a moment Wang entered. 
 
 "Mist' Someldyke," he announced gutturally. 
 
 Delaine turned to Caryl, who had stopped her 
 typewriting at the sound of that name. 
 
 "Have you an engagement with Mr. Somer- 
 dyke, Miss Marvin?" he asked, in an impersonal 
 manner. 
 
 The girl caught her breath in astonishment. 
 "Why why no!" she stammered. "Why 
 should I?" 
 
 "I didn't know whether you were lunching with 
 him again to-day or not," Delaine replied coolly. 
 "If you haven't an engagement with him I am at 
 liberty to say I am engaged. Wang, tell Mr. 
 Somerdyke positively that I can see nobody, and 
 that I will be grateful if he will take himself gently
 
 Caryl Meets Somerdyke Again 135 
 
 by the hand and lead himself away." He finished 
 with an amused glance at the servant's grave face. 
 
 Wang bowed and disappeared and, without 
 another word to his stenographer, Delaine re- 
 turned to his work. It was well past noontime 
 when Caryl at last finished her task and, gathering 
 up the typewritten sheets, placed them in order 
 upon her employer's desk. He acknowledged 
 them with a smile. 
 
 Caryl resented that smile as she had resented 
 his attitude throughout the morning. He seemed 
 far removed from her and to regard her with a 
 silent cynicism that had been lacking in their 
 former meetings. She felt that he was pleasant 
 to her rather because he was a gentleman than 
 because he considered her worth especial notice. 
 She made one last attempt to broach the subject 
 that was harassing her. 
 
 "Julia tells me that you saw her in Baird's," 
 she ventured as she was pinning on her hat, pre- 
 paratory to her departure. 
 
 The man looked at her, and his eyes were 
 grave. "Yes," he answered simply, "I did." 
 
 Five minutes later, in the outer hall, Caryl 
 stamped her little foot in anger. "Oh," she mut- 
 tered to herself, "he's horrid! He makes me feel 
 like a fool!" 
 
 She stepped from the cool dark lobby of the
 
 136 The Two Sisters 
 
 great studio building into the bright sunshine of 
 the noonday. For a moment she stood blinking 
 in the sudden glare, then she turned and started 
 down the street in the direction of her home. 
 
 She had progressed only a few steps when a 
 masculine voice sounded so close to her ear that 
 she started violently and uttered a smothered 
 exclamation. 
 
 "I didn't insist upon coming into Delaine's 
 study this morning," laughed Harry Somerdyke, 
 "because I thought one melodramatic scene a week 
 was enough." In spite of his light words there 
 was admiration in the glance with which he greeted 
 her, and after shaking hands with her he retained 
 possession of her hand as he talked. "But I did 
 want to see you, so I waited around outside like 
 'Mary's little lamb.' You're going for a spin in 
 my car this afternoon. Aren't you glad?" 
 
 "Oh!" gasped the girl, disengaging her hand. 
 "You're awfully kind, Mr. Somerdyke, but I can't 
 possibly accept. Though," she added wistfully 
 as she eyed the graceful, low-swung car drawn up 
 at the curb, "I should love to go." 
 
 "Then why can't you?" the man asked. "Got 
 another engagement with your friend at the Wal- 
 dorf?" 
 
 "What do you mean?" stammered the girl, red- 
 dening guiltily.
 
 Caryl Meets Somerdyke Again 137 
 
 "Well, you see," explained Somerdyke, a twin- 
 kle of amusement in his eyes, "I was mean enough 
 to play detective the other day and follow you 
 into 'Peacock Alley.' I was afraid that you were 
 trying to deceive your too trustful friend mean- 
 ing me and behold, I was right! I wept for 
 hours at being so grossly deceived. You really 
 owe me some reparation for my injured feelings. 
 Please be an obliging little girl and go with me. 
 We'll run across into Jersey and be back by seven, 
 and then we'll have dinner together somewhere." 
 
 "Oh, I can't!" exclaimed Caryl in dismay. "I 
 really can't. My sister will be at home by six 
 o'clock, and she would be " 
 
 She stopped, confused at the man's hearty 
 laugh. "Oh, coward, coward!" he taunted mer- 
 rily. "Again afraid of big sister who doesn't 
 like you to go out with young men of a desperate 
 character like mine !" 
 
 "It isn't that at all!" Caryl flashed back, her 
 pride touched. "It's none of my sister's concern 
 who I go with or where I go with him. I was only 
 thinking that she wouldn't know where I was and 
 would worry about me." 
 
 "Well, then," suggested Somerdyke coolly, "if 
 that is your only reason for not going with me, we 
 can settle that easily. Get into my car and I'll 
 drive you to your apartment where you can write
 
 138 The Two Sisters 
 
 a note to loving sister and leave it where she can 
 find it when she comes in. Then we can go with a 
 clear conscience. Please be a good sport, Miss 
 Marvin, and come with me. I didn't think you 
 would back out on a proposition like this." 
 
 He had cleverly chosen the words that would 
 appeal most strongly to the flighty mind of the 
 girl. She had always thought it would be won- 
 derful to be considered a good sport by men who 
 would, accordingly, give her good times. And 
 here was Somerdyke, whom she admired more 
 than she cared to admit to herself, handsome, at- 
 tractive, winning of speech, beseeching her to do 
 what she wanted to do above all else. 
 
 The sun was hot and glaring here in the city 
 streets. She thought how bright and pretty the 
 country must appear to-day. It would be ideal to 
 ride in that stunning car all the afternoon with 
 such a person as Somerdyke. With a reckless toss 
 of her head she made her decision. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Somerdyke," she answered lightly, 
 "I'll go with you if you will be very nice, and on 
 one condition." 
 
 "Good girl!" Somerdyke exclaimed, his dark 
 face suddenly eager and animated. "Name your 
 condition and make it as easy as possible for a 
 mere man to fulfil." 
 
 "Wait for me here," Caryl commanded rapidly,
 
 Caryl Meets Somerdyke Again 139 
 
 "and I'll be back in twenty minutes. And I must 
 get home to-night at six-thirty at the latest" 
 
 Suspicion gathered in the man's eyes. "If I let 
 you go now, you'll really come back?" he asked 
 sharply. 
 
 "I'm at least a good enough sport to keep my 
 word!" Caryl retorted indignantly. 
 
 "All right, then," agreed Somerdyke. "I'll be 
 waiting here when you return, and I'll promise 
 you we'll be back in time for your dinner if gaso- 
 line and tires hold out. They ought to, for I had 
 the car overhauled only last week." 
 
 He pressed her hand warmly as she said good- 
 bye, and she hurried away down the street. Out 
 of sight around the corner she took a car to Twen- 
 ty-second Street, then walked so fast that she 
 reached her lodgings quite out of breath. Put- 
 ting several additional pins in her hat to secure 
 it tightly, she took from Julia's dresser a long 
 blue veil which was one of her sister's few bits of 
 finery. 
 
 She stood still for a moment in the middle of 
 the room, her finger on her puckered lips, her brow 
 wrinkled in thought. What message should she 
 leave her sister? It would never do to tell her 
 the plain truth. Julia was such a fuss about things 
 and insisted on regarding her younger sister as 
 still a mere child.
 
 140 The Two Sisters 
 
 With an abrupt determination Caryl went to 
 the shabby little table that stood near the win- 
 dow and, with a stub of a pencil, dashed off a 
 hurried note. 
 
 "Julia, darling," she wrote. "Mr. Delaine is 
 giving a tea at his studio this afternoon and has 
 asked me to stay and meet some of his guests and 
 help with the tea things. Do not worry if I am 
 a little late in getting home. I shall be well chap- 
 eroned and Mr. Delaine is sure you won't mind. 
 I hope you won't be angry. Your loving little 
 sister, Caryl." 
 
 She laid the note on the bureau where Julia 
 would be sure to see it, and hurried downstairs. 
 
 Ten minutes more than the time that Caryl 
 had allotted to herself had passed when she 
 rejoined Somerdyke. As she turned into the 
 street on which the studio building stood, the girl 
 saw the man on the front seat of his car, his soft 
 cap pulled down upon his forehead that the glare 
 of the sun might not strike his eyes. These eyes, 
 she noted, as she came closer, were shut, and she 
 paused embarrassedly, wondering just how to 
 awaken the sleeper. That he was not really 
 asleep was proved by his quick start when she 
 spoke his name. 
 
 "Mr. Somerdyke," she said softly. 
 
 "Why, hallo! See who's here!" he exclaimed
 
 Caryl Meets Somerdyke Again 141 
 
 jovially. "No, I was not snoring, and was 
 really wide awake with my eyes tight shut. Ten 
 minutes ago I looked at my watch and found that 
 you were due here. Then, to forget the desola- 
 tion of the street when you are not in it, I closed 
 my eyes that I might not be smitten by the sight." 
 
 Caryl laughed with enjoyment of his merri- 
 ment. She felt suddenly happy and elated. Her 
 joy made her face more animated and prettier 
 than usual. With Julia's pale blue veil knotted 
 under her chin she looked like a child. 
 
 "Whew! but you've got stunning blue eyes!" 
 Somerdyke exclaimed, as he gazed at her. "They 
 just match the color of your veil. Did you take 
 them to the store with you so as to be sure to get 
 that exact shade?" he teased. 
 
 "Don't be so silly!" Caryl commanded, pleased 
 nevertheless. 
 
 "All right, I won't. Hop into the car now and 
 we'll get off!" 
 
 Taking her elbows into his strong hands he al- 
 most lifted the girl from the ground to the front 
 seat, and, after manipulating a mysterious lever 
 or two, seated himself beside her. 
 
 "Please observe that this machine has a new 
 self-starter," he said, and the girl replied, "Oh, 
 yes, I see," although she had no idea what a self- 
 starter was. At first she was absorbed in trying
 
 142 The Two Sisters 
 
 to appreciate that she was actually automobiling 
 in New York with a rich young man, and she 
 leaned back with the air of luxurious nonchalance 
 she had seen wealthy women assume as they were 
 driven along Fifth Avenue. For a while the man 
 was so intent upon making his way safely through 
 the crowded thoroughfares that he did not talk, 
 and this suited his companion just now, for she 
 wanted time and quiet in which to appreciate the 
 good luck that was, as she phrased it to herself, 
 "coming her way."
 
 XII 
 
 MEANWHILE Julia was going through her usual 
 routine of work in Baird's department, store. For 
 hour after hour she stood behind the counter, try- 
 ing to prevent her thoughts from straying. Yet, 
 endeavor as she might to confine her reflections to 
 the various kinds of laces and their prices per 
 yard, the vision of Kelley Delaine as he had stood 
 here yesterday would thrust itself upon her. 
 
 She tried to be angry with him; in fact, at times 
 she would succeed in being indignant when she 
 remembered what Caryl had told her about him. 
 He had actually, Julia mused, had the audacity to 
 come in here and ask her Caryl's sister to go 
 to luncheon with him, when all the while in the 
 bottom of his heart he knew he had invited Caryl 
 herself to accompany him. Had he meant to take 
 them both? If so, that was all right. Yet, if 
 that was the case, why had he not told each girl 
 of his plan? Perhaps he had intended to surprise 
 them both. This possibility brought with it a 
 little comfort. 
 
 143
 
 144 The Two Sisters 
 
 Until Julia was sure he had not asked her just 
 to see what she would say, and not because he 
 wanted both her and Caryl, she would postpone 
 her decision against him. Of course, if he had 
 planned a little surprise for both sisters, he could 
 hardly retract his invitation to the younger one 
 when the older one made the fulfillment of his 
 plan impossible. 
 
 At last the working day came to an end and 
 the store bell rang preparatory to closing for the 
 night. Julia, with the other girls at her counter, 
 put away any stock that happened to be out of 
 place, then hurried off to get her hat. She felt 
 depressed and could not join in the light laughter 
 of her companions. 
 
 "I say," said one of them, "what do you think 
 of some of us getting together to-night and going 
 down to Coney? Will you go along, Miss Mar- 
 vin? Dutch treat, you know," she added quickly. 
 
 Julia tried to smile. "Oh, thank you," she re- 
 plied, "but you must count me out of it, please. 
 It is kind of you to think of including me in your 
 fun, but really I seldom go anywhere in the even- 
 ing and never without my sister." 
 
 "Why not take her, too?" suggested Minnie 
 Maibrunn pleasantly, "that is, if she's the kind 
 that will go in for some fun." 
 
 "Indeed, she loves fun," returned Julia, "but
 
 An Explanation 145 
 
 well, to be frank, girls I do not think that she 
 and I can afford at this time the extravagance of 
 going on a pleasure trip anywhere." 
 
 "That's too bad," sympathized several of the 
 girls, while Minnie asked in an aside if Julia 
 wouldn't allow her to "stand treat." But Julia 
 firmly and gratefully declined. 
 
 She nodded brightly to the group on parting at 
 the door of the shop, and turned westward, walk- 
 ing slowly. She had spoken the truth in saying 
 she and Caryl could not afford the proposed jaunt, 
 but she had not added still another truth and 
 that was that she did not care to go with this 
 rather noisy set of girls to a public resort, and 
 that she did not wish to assume the responsibility 
 of chaperoning her very pretty sister upon such 
 an expedition. People looked at Caryl always, 
 and Caryl evidently liked to receive their admir- 
 ing glances. 
 
 "She is a darling but a great responsibility!" 
 sighed Julia, as she walked along. Then she 
 caught her breath with a gasp of surprise, and 
 stopped short. 
 
 For there, on the corner, right in front of her, 
 stood Kelley Delaine, his hat in his hand, smiling, 
 and evidently waiting for her. 
 
 For a second after she saw him, Julia felt a 
 strong impulse to turn and hasten in the opposite
 
 146 The Two Sisters 
 
 direction. Calmer second thought told her such a 
 move would be foolish. Delaine had seen her and 
 knew she had recognized him. She walked on, 
 and, when she came abreast of him, tried to pass 
 him with a slight inclination of the head, but he 
 was not so easily snubbed. He lifted his hat, and, 
 making no effort to stop her, fell into step at her 
 side. His first words, and the embarrassed man- 
 ner in which he spoke them, checked Julia's rising 
 indignation. 
 
 "I really want to speak to you, Miss Marvin, 
 or I should not have taken this (shall we be chari- 
 table and say 'unconventional'?) way of address- 
 ing you. Please forgive my seeming rudeness. I 
 I I am not a well, a masher, nor do I make 
 a practice of speaking to young ladies who show 
 that they are not especially willing to talk to me. 
 You must believe that won't you?" 
 
 There was a boyish appeal in his voice, and 
 Julia's tone was kinder than she had meant it to 
 be when she replied. 
 
 "Of course I believe you, Mr. Delaine," she 
 answered him. "What is it you wish to speak to 
 me about?" 
 
 "Several things," he returned more confidently. 
 "In the first place, will you be so good as to give 
 your sister a message from me? Please tell her 
 that I have been called out of town for to-morrow
 
 An Explanation 147 
 
 and that I will not, therefore, expect her at my 
 rooms. I did not learn until after she had left at 
 noon to-day that I would be obliged to go away, 
 and I do not know her address so I must trouble 
 you to deliver my message. That is the chief ex- 
 cuse I must plead for waiting on the corner near 
 Baird's for you. Am I pardoned?" 
 
 "Indeed you are," Julia said, with a bright 
 smile, and Delaine flushed with pleasure. 
 
 "Now if I am really forgiven," he continued, 
 "won't you let me delude myself into the idea that 
 I am a plutocrat? Let's take an auto ride on a 
 bus as far as the street you live on, at any rate." 
 
 Julia shook her head gravely. "I can't afford 
 that kind of thing, Mr. Delaine," she objected. 
 
 "You surely don't think" he began protest- 
 ingly, but she interrupted him. 
 
 "I mean that I have made it a rule since I came 
 to the city never to accept favors from anyone 
 whom I do not know well," she explained. "I 
 don't see how I can make an exception in your 
 case. Do you, Mr. Delaine?" 
 
 The man walked along beside her in silence for 
 a moment. Then he spoke slowly and seriously. 
 
 "Come and sit in the little park in the square 
 for a few minutes, won't you? I want to talk to 
 you." 
 
 She nodded in silence, and together they strolled
 
 148 The Two Sisters 
 
 to the square. The grass shone like emerald in 
 the late afternoon sunlight; here and there on the 
 shabby green benches derelict hulks of humanity 
 were stranded. The two chose a spot in the shade 
 and sat down. Delaine came to the point without 
 any preliminary hesitation. 
 
 "Miss Marvin," he said bluntly, "I wish that 
 we could be friends you and I. I'm not a social- 
 ist, but I'll be hanged if I can see why the fact 
 that we both work for our living should stand be- 
 tween us and friendship. To be perfectly frank 
 I have liked you ever since I first saw you. The 
 oftener I speak to you the more you interest me. 
 Won't you put aside your rules and scruples in 
 this one case and let us just be pleasant conven- 
 tional acquaintances? For the life of me, I do not 
 understand your reason for avoiding me so per- 
 sistently. I am not a cigarette-smoking, liquor- 
 drinking, black-mustached villain. I have few 
 women friends. I want very much to count you as 
 one of them." 
 
 He paused, and as Julia did not reply, he went 
 on: "Another thing I have to say. I want to 
 apologize for asking you to take lunch with me 
 yesterday. I never did such a thing on so short 
 an acquaintance before. I had no right to do it 
 then."
 
 An Explanation 149 
 
 "Yet you went to lunch with my sister on that 
 very same day," Julia reminded him sternly. 
 
 "I beg your pardon?" he said, looking at her in 
 blank astonishment. 
 
 She repeated her remark. 
 
 "I did no such thing!" he exclaimed abruptly. 
 
 u Are you sure?" asked the girl, a sarcastic ring 
 in her voice. 
 
 "As sure as that I am sitting here," he declared. 
 "After I left you I went up to the Spur and Bridle 
 Club and lunched there in solitary state. Who 
 ever told you such a yarn?" 
 
 His tone and manner convinced the listener 
 that he spoke the truth, and her face paled sud- 
 denly. She passed a trembling hand over her 
 eyes. 
 
 "I don't feel very well," she faltered, "I think 
 I will go home now." 
 
 "You don't go by yourself when you look like 
 that," asserted Delaine. "Poor child, you are as 
 white as a sheet. Let me take you in a cab." 
 
 "No," answered Julia resolutely, "I prefer to 
 go alone, if you please." Even in her fright she 
 saw the disappointment in his eyes and felt vague- 
 ly sorry for him. "Thank you for your kind- 
 ness, Mr. Delaine," she said hurriedly, holding 
 out her hand. "I shall write you if if I ever 
 want your help. Good-bye!"
 
 150 The Two Sisters 
 
 She had returned his hand clasp and was hur- 
 rying away along the winding walk of the little 
 park before he found his voice. He looked after 
 her pityingly. He understood now what her alarm 
 meant. "When I get hold of Somerdyke," he 
 muttered, "I'll punch his head good and plenty 
 for him!" 
 
 Julia sped on homeward, her heart keeping 
 time with her racing feet. Intuitively she knew 
 now that Caryl had been deceiving her for how 
 long she could not tell. Where and with whom 
 had the child been? 
 
 Outside the door of her room, Julia paused to 
 catch her breath and try to plan what to say to 
 Caryl on entering. Then she pushed the door 
 open and went in. The room stood empty in the 
 gathering shadows, and her feet sounded loudly on 
 the bare floor. Her bureau drawer stood open 
 and the contents were in an untidy mass. 
 
 On the bureau lay a scrap of folded paper.
 
 XIII 
 
 A MOTOR RIDE AND A QUARREL 
 
 "Ix's perfectly wonderful!" exclaimed Caryl 
 for the tenth time within an hour. Her compan- 
 ion relaxed his attention from the road ahead of 
 him long enough to glance at her with a smile of 
 approval. She was good to look at, with her 
 cheeks whipped pink by the wind and her blue eyes 
 sparkling with exhilaration. Harry Somerdyke 
 loved pretty women with the ardor of a connois- 
 seur. 
 
 "I am glad you like it, little girl," he answered 
 in a familiar, almost proprietary tone "in spite 
 of your reluctance to trust yourself with me. Au- 
 tomobiling is good fun, especially when one has a 
 stunningly pretty girl seated beside him." 
 
 "I really don't think that I care particularly for 
 the pretty girl," Caryl laughed saucily with a co- 
 quettish toss of her head. 
 
 "Well, I am so enthusiastic about her that I 
 shall let the car go to smash while I am looking at 
 her if she doesn't stop making eyes at me," he 
 
 IS 1
 
 152 The Two Sisters 
 
 threatened, as he guided the rushing machine over 
 a particularly rough patch of road. 
 
 "Isn't going so fast at all dangerous?" queried 
 his companion, but with no trace of anxiety in her 
 voice. 
 
 "Fast!" scoffed the driver. "Wait until we get 
 out to that stretch of asphalted road at Arcola 
 then I'll show you what this little boat of mine can 
 really do. What's the matter? Frightened?" 
 
 "Not when I'm with you," the girl assured him, 
 smiling happily. 
 
 The broad, fresh sweep of air against her face 
 acted like wine upon her spirits. She was daring 
 and gay this afternoon, and said whatever came 
 into her mind. Julia, Delaine, her squalid life in 
 the city, were all forgotten. She felt she could 
 ride on and on and never tire. 
 
 She amused herself for some little time after 
 they had passed the "stretch of asphalted road at 
 Arcola" in watching the handsome face of the 
 man beside her. Could it really be that she, Caryl 
 Marvin, to whom nothing pleasantly exciting had 
 ever happened, was now bowling along in this 
 glorious machine beside this well-groomed, clever 
 gentleman who liked her, as she told herself, "for 
 herself alone" ? She laughed aloud in enjoyment 
 of the situation. There were both vanity and joy 
 in the laugh, and Somerdyke turned his head.
 
 A Motor Ride and a Quarrel 153 
 
 "Still having a perfectly wonderful time?" he 
 queried. 
 
 "I wish I could do this for ever and ever!" the 
 girl breathed. 
 
 "And in an hour or two from now you will be 
 pleading with me to hurry so that you won't get 
 home late and thus stir up the wrath of dear sis- 
 ter," he teased. 
 
 "I didn't say that I was going to do this for 
 ever and ever," Caryl corrected him. "I only said 
 I'd like to. We don't do everything we want to 
 in this world more's the pity!" and she sighed 
 with feigned melancholy. 
 
 The car swung into a broad, graveled driveway 
 at the end of which gleamed the white columns of 
 a great hotel. 
 
 "It's getting near afternoon tea time or along 
 in that direction," Somerdyke remarked, as he 
 drew up at the hotel entrance. "We'll get a sand- 
 wich and something cool to drink, and then we'll 
 go back by another way to that dreary old city in 
 which I see you only once or twice in a long age." 
 
 A suave waiter ushered them out of the glare 
 of the sunlight into a shaded, high-ceiled room, 
 and set a small table in front of them. 
 
 "A Scotch high-ball for me," ordered Somer- 
 dyke. "Will you have a glass of iced tea or 
 what?"
 
 154 The Two Sisters 
 
 Caryl hesitated for a moment, then her new 
 sense of independence asserted itself. "I think I'll 
 take the same drink that you do," she announced. 
 
 Somerdyke raised his eyebrows in surprise. 
 "Are you sure you can stand high-balls?" he asked. 
 "They're pretty strong." 
 
 "Certainly I can!" retorted Caryl, making her 
 facts suit her desires. "I am very fond of them," 
 she added. She did not know just what a high- 
 ball was, but she was determined to appear so- 
 phisticated and live up to her reputation as a 
 "sport." 
 
 Her companion shrugged his shoulders and 
 laughed. "All right!" he agreed. "You're the 
 judge, you know. Waiter two high-balls, then!" 
 
 Caryl was very thirsty. The rapid drive along 
 dusty roads had dried her throat, and now that 
 she was sitting still in the house she was also very 
 warm. When the sparkling drink in the ice-filled 
 glass was put before her she took it eagerly, drink- 
 ing a generous half of it before she set the glass 
 down. She did not find the taste agreeable, but 
 the liquid was delightfully cold. She ate a sand- 
 wich, then drained the glass. 
 
 "Delicious I" she murmured, as she saw Somer- 
 dyke watching her. When, ten minutes later, she 
 arose to follow him from the hotel, she experi- 
 enced a strange sensation. Her knees felt uhcer-
 
 A Motor Ride and a Quarrel 155 
 
 tain and weak, and the house and the veranda 
 through which she passed seemed to be slowly 
 tilting at a sickening angle, and it required a 
 strong effort of her will to enable her to step up 
 into the car. 
 
 Once seated there, she felt better, and the wind 
 again cooled her flushed face. She closed her 
 eyes as she sank back luxuriously in the seat. 
 
 Several times she heard, as at a great distance, 
 her companion's voice, and roused herself suffi- 
 ciently to answer him. She was not sleepy, she 
 mused, but the motion and air made her blissfully 
 contented and indifferent to all things. It was 
 fine to sit comfortably in a cushioned seat and let 
 the world slip by. It was not until the car was 
 coasting down the long hill above Fort Lee Ferry 
 that she volunteered a remark. 
 
 "It's been perfectly dear of you to take me to- 
 day, Mr. Somerdyke," she said slowly. Some- 
 how it was hard for her to pronounce her words 
 plainly. 
 
 "Well, I'm glad that you've waked up at last," 
 the man replied, with a laugh of relief. "Where 
 shall I take you when we get to New York?" 
 
 "Home, of course," she replied. 
 
 "Of course," he said, laughing again, "but I'm 
 not a mind-reader, and you've not given me your 
 address."
 
 156 The Two Sisters 
 
 She gave it, still speaking very slowly. She had 
 evidently forgotten her desire to keep the knowl- 
 edge of her living place from Somerdyke. The 
 man nodded as he heard the address. 
 
 "Almost jagged!" he said to himself. "Silly 
 little fool!" 
 
 It was after seven o'clock when they drove up 
 to the gloomy house that Caryl and Julia Marvin 
 called home, and Somerdyke helped his com- 
 panion to alight. He held her hand closely in 
 bidding her good-bye. 
 
 "You look devilishly pretty," he said as the two 
 stood at the side of the car. "For almost nothing 
 I'd kiss you good-night." 
 
 Caryl laughed carelessly. "Perhaps I wouldn't 
 let you if you tried," she said. "And anyway it's 
 too light yet for even you to dare." Pulling her 
 hand free of his grasp, she ran up the steps into 
 the house. 
 
 Before driving away the man jotted down the 
 number of the house. Then he smiled cynically 
 and climbed back into his car. "Little fool !" he 
 muttered to himself for the second time within an 
 hour. 
 
 Slowly Caryl mounted the steep stairs to her 
 room. The house was close and stuffy, and there 
 was a smell of cooking in the halls. The girl 
 sniffed disdainfully.
 
 A Motor Ride and a Quarrel 157 
 
 "Oh, how I hate it all !" she murmured, as she 
 reached the floor on which was the room occupied 
 by Julia and herself. She was in a distinctly bad 
 humor as she entered the dingy chamber. Julia 
 was lying on her bed, and in a chair by the win- 
 dow was the ample form of Mrs. Halloran. 
 
 "Well, I do declare!" exclaimed this latter 
 personage as Caryl appeared, but Julia checked 
 any further outbursts. 
 
 "Mrs. Halloran," she said beseechingly, get- 
 ting up from the bed, "would you mind leaving 
 me and my sister alone for a little while now? 
 Thank you for all you have done. I am very 
 grateful." 
 
 The portly landlady arose and left the room, 
 but as she passed Caryl she gave a scornful look 
 of which Caryl herself pretended to be entirely 
 unconscious. Walking to the bureau she took off 
 her veil and had removed her hat and gloves be- 
 fore she spoke to her sister. 
 
 "What's the matter, Judy?" she asked indif- 
 ferently. "Got another of your headaches?" 
 
 "Where have you been?" queried the older girl 
 gravely, ignoring the question asked her. 
 
 At the serious tone and manner Caryl looked 
 dismayed, and a sudden guilty fear kept her silent. 
 
 "Where have you been, Caryl?" Julia repeated 
 slowly.
 
 158 The Two Sisters 
 
 With a gesture of impatience the younger girl 
 threw off the nervousness that had seized her for 
 the moment. "Oh, for mercy's sake," she snapped 
 peevishly, "don't take on that severe manner with 
 me! You know where I have been as well as I 
 do. You got the note I left here didn't you? 
 You surely aren't angry about my going and tak- 
 ing tea at Mr. Delaine's are you?" 
 
 "Don't tell me any more lies, please, Caryl," 
 the sister begged wearily. "I want to know where 
 you have been." 
 
 "I was at Mr. Delaine's," retorted the other 
 hotly. "How many times do I have to tell you 
 so?" 
 
 "You were not at Mr. Delaine's," Julia af- 
 firmed. "Mr. Delaine was not at home this af- 
 ternoon. I saw him on the street. Furthermore, 
 I know you did not lunch with him yesterday, and 
 that he did not ask you to do so. You wrote me a 
 lie to-day. Now tell me where you have been." 
 
 Caryl turned angrily upon her sister, her cheeks 
 flaming, her eyes snapping. "It's none of your 
 business I" she shrilled. "You aren't my mother. 
 I won't tell you where I was. It's none of your 
 affair!" 
 
 For a moment the two girls stood looking at 
 each other. Caryl's face was flushed and stub- 
 born. Julia was pale, but a gleam of temper was
 
 A Motor Ride and a Quarrel 159 
 
 beginning to show in her dark eyes. All at once, 
 as though to end the discussion, Caryl turned back 
 to the bureau and began arranging her hair. 
 
 "Caryl," said Julia, still firmly, "you will either 
 tell me, here and now, with whom you were to-day, 
 and where you went, or I'll find out for myself!" 
 
 "Much chance you'll have to find out," scoffed 
 Caryl, without looking around. 
 
 Taking a quick step forward, Julia laid her 
 hands on Caryl's shoulders and turned the girl 
 toward the light. As she did so, she started vio- 
 lently for the unmistakable odor of whisky reached 
 her nostrils. 
 
 "Caryl!" she ejaculated. 
 
 "Now, what's the matter?" the younger girl 
 queried irritably, twitching herself from her sis- 
 ter's grasp. 
 
 "There's the smell of whisky on your breath," 
 Julia accused in an awed whisper. "You've been 
 been drinking!" Then, in a frenzy of 
 anxiety, she grasped the girl again by the should- 
 ers. 
 
 "Will you tell me where you have been?" she 
 insisted, almost fiercely, while her lips trembled 
 and her eyes flashed. 
 
 "Let me go!" Caryl ordered. 
 
 "I won't let you go," Julia declared between
 
 160 The Two Sisters 
 
 her set teeth "not until you tell me where you 
 have been!" 
 
 "Good heavens!" cried Caryl, "what an infer- 
 nal and intolerable nagger you are, Julia! I've 
 been for an automobile ride, if you must know. 
 There's nothing sinful in that, is there?" 
 
 "Then why did you lie to me?" faltered the 
 older girl, shaken by anger and fear. "With 
 whom did you go?" 
 
 There was a moment of obstinate silence. 
 Caryl stood with her face flushed and her eyes 
 sullenly downcast. Julia, white as a ghost, her 
 fingers interlocked in a painful grip, gazed at the 
 girl who was her all, as if by her very fear and 
 yearning she could draw her secret from her. 
 But the look did not move the younger sister from 
 her determination. 
 
 "I'm not going to tell you," she said after a 
 while. 
 
 Again she turned away, but her companion de- 
 tained her while she spoke slowly and solemnly. 
 
 "Caryl," she said, "you will either tell me the 
 whole truth or I I I'll go straight to Mr. De- 
 laine and find out all he knows about this matter. 
 He, at least, will not lie to me."
 
 XIV 
 
 A BITTER EXPERIENCE 
 
 IT is to be doubted if anyone with as shallow a 
 nature as Caryl Marvin's is capable of appreciat- 
 ing the nervous strain from which Julia had suf- 
 fered since her parting with Kelley Delaine. The 
 sudden revelation and conviction that her little 
 sister had deceived her, had lied to her, were 
 painful enough, but the possible cause of such 
 deception puzzled and alarmed her cruelly. The 
 child must have some reason for concealing her 
 actions. 
 
 What could this reason be except that she was 
 doing something of which she knew her sister 
 would disapprove? And what would she, who 
 loved Caryl, disapprove of except of that which 
 was unprincipled or unsafe? These thoughts had 
 tortured Julia all the way home. How did par- 
 ents of young and pretty girls manage to keep 
 watch over them in a big city like New York? 
 
 So hurried and nervous had she been when 
 she reached her own room that she did not see 
 Mrs. Halloran's ample figure advancing along the 
 
 161
 
 1 62 The Two Sisters 
 
 hall. The landlady stood irresolute outside of 
 Julia's door after the girl had entered and closed 
 it behind her, for she had seen in the dim light 
 that her lodger's, face was pale. She liked Julia, 
 and she suspected that Caryl was giving her 
 trouble. And, while she hesitated, she heard the 
 rustle of paper as the occupant of the room 
 opened the sheet she found on her bureau, and a 
 low exclamation of dismay and fear reached the 
 ears of the curious but kind-hearted listener. This 
 sound decided her as to her course, and she 
 knocked on the door, then entered without waiting 
 for an answer. 
 
 "May I come in, Miss Marvin?" she said with 
 elaborate unconsciousness of the fact that she 
 might be unwelcome. She stopped as she saw 
 the girl's frightened expression. "Sure, dear 
 child," she exclaimed anxiously, "it's sick you 
 are!" 
 
 Julia tried to smile. "Oh, no," she said, "but 
 I am very tired. And" hesitatingly "I am a 
 little worried that my sister is not at home yet. 
 I hoped to find her here." 
 
 "Oh, she's all right," soothed the matron. "I 
 caught a glimpse of her in the hall this noon when 
 she came home, just like she did yesterday, to fix 
 up for the afternoon. Her working hours ain't 
 hard on her, that's sure."
 
 A Bitter Experience 163 
 
 She paused, but as Julia made no reply, she 
 continued: "You mustn't worry about her, my 
 dear child. She'll have to learn sooner or later 
 to fend for herself. It's yourself I'm worried 
 about. You're as white as the pillow slip there. 
 By the same token, it wouldn't be a bad thing 
 for you to lay down your head on tha't same pillow 
 and get a mite of rest. Do, there's a good child !" 
 
 Julia obeyed the suggestion and made an effort 
 to speak gratefully. "You are very kind, Mrs. 
 Halloran," she said; then, with a gasp, she added: 
 "Oh, I wish that my sister would come ! It's get- 
 ting late!" 
 
 It had been at this juncture that the door was 
 pushed open by Caryl herself. So there was, be- 
 sides disapproval, perhaps a little baffled curiosity 
 in the sentiments which made Mrs. Halloran glare 
 indignantly at the newcomer as she left her and 
 Julia alone. 
 
 But all that Caryl understood was that her 
 sister was angry with her for having lied to her. 
 It is very hard to forgive one whom we have 
 deceived and who has discovered our deception. 
 Caryl Marvin was proving this fact, and was so* 
 uncomfortable in the experience that she felt no 
 twinge of sympathy for her sister; indeed, she 
 did not give a moment's thought to the anxiety 
 that Julia might have suffered. Why couldn't an
 
 164 The Two Sisters 
 
 older girl mind her own business and let a younger 
 one have a good time in her own way? There 
 was sullen spitefulness in the reply she made to 
 Julia's threat to ask Kelley Delaine with whom 
 Caryl had spent the afternoons of yesterday and 
 to-day. 
 
 "Ask him, if you like," she sneered. "A 
 pretty show you'd make of yourself going to his 
 rooms and prying into my affairs, and whining 
 'Who went out with my sister?' as if he was the 
 ruler of my actions when I am not busy with his 
 work! I can just fancy what he would think of 
 you if you did that. Besides, while you claim to 
 be so prim and proper, I hardly see how you can 
 suggest going alone to any man's rooms on such 
 a private matter as this. You may think I am 
 imprudent, but I am sure that I would not do such 
 a vulgar thing. You really ought to have more 
 care for your reputation, Julia. I tell you it takes 
 the goody-goody girls like you to do the kind of 
 thing you propose! To his rooms, indeed! You 
 ought to be ashamed to propose it." 
 
 This sudden reversal of positions made Julia 
 gasp with astonishment. Caryl might not be wise, 
 she might not seem to have any especial intellect, 
 but she was no fool where her own interests were 
 concerned, and she was quick to see her advantage 
 and to seize it
 
 A Bitter Experience 165 
 
 "I really think," she continued, with a grand air 
 of hauteur, "that if matters have come to this 
 point we'd better not discuss them further just 
 now. I mean to get myself ready for dinner in- 
 stead of wasting time talking. If you are going 
 to get anything to eat this evening I advise you to 
 follow my example." 
 
 Julia's temper burst forth in a final flare. "How 
 dare you talk as if I were in the wrong and you 
 in the right!" she exclaimed. "You know you 
 have twisted matters to suit your own ideas and 
 have not answered a single one of my questions! 
 Have you no explanations to give me?" 
 
 Caryl shrugged her shoulders as she started to- 
 ward the hall to wash at the sink outside the door. 
 "I only know," she said quietly, "that facts speak 
 for themselves, and that I have been automobiling 
 in the broad daylight while you are proposing to 
 go to a man's apartment now to ask him some 
 personal question." 
 
 "You know I did not expect to go to-night!" 
 protested Julia. 
 
 "Oh, didn't you?" answered Caryl. "Well, 
 I'm glad you didn't." Then the sound of water 
 rushing from the cold water faucet as she turned 
 it on made further conversation for the present 
 impossible. 
 
 Not until their silent dinner was ended, and the
 
 1 66 The Two Sisters 
 
 two girls were returning to their lodgings, did 
 Julia refer again to any matter of a personal na- 
 ture. Then she spoke with some embarrassment. 
 
 "As I was coming from work," she remarked, 
 "I met Mr. Delaine. He apologized for stop- 
 ping me, but as he had not our address he had no 
 other way of communicating with you. He wished 
 me to tell you that he has been called out of town 
 for a day or so, and will not want you to-morrow. 
 As the next day will be Sunday, I suppose you are 
 not to report for duty until Monday morning." 
 
 "Going away, is he?" mused Caryl. "I wish 
 I had known it sooner," she added, as if to her- 
 self. "Well, that means that I have a whole 
 working day on my hands and nothing to do with 
 it. But I guess I'll survive it." 
 
 Julia wanted to remind her sister that her 
 clothes needed repairing, but she stifled the ex- 
 pression of this thought. What good would it 
 do to remind Caryl of the mending that should 
 be done? The child detested sewing, and Julia 
 had made it her business to keep her own clothes 
 and Caryl's in repair, although this meant taking 
 many stitches late in the evening and on Sunday 
 the only day she had for rest. During July and 
 August Baird's store had closed at noon on Satur- 
 days, but on these half holidays Caryl had wanted 
 to go to some place of amusement or to do any-
 
 A Bitter Experience 167 
 
 thing rather than remain at home. Julia appre- 
 ciated with uneasiness that to-morrow Caryl 
 would have an entirely free day. What would 
 she do with it? If Satan finds some mischief for 
 idle hands, here would be his opportunity. Some- 
 thing must be suggested to occupy the girl's time. 
 
 "Why not rest the first part of the day to-mor- 
 row," Julia proposed, "and then, as the store 
 closes at five on Saturdays, come there for me 
 and we will go for a short trolley ride. Or, if 
 you don't mind eating at some inexpensive place, 
 I'll take you to supper somewhere, and we can 
 take our trolley ride afterward. There is a moon, 
 and the weather promises to be warm and clear." 
 
 She spoke affectionately, even beseechingly, 
 linking her arm in her sister's as they walked. 
 That Caryl did not jerk away from her comforted 
 her companion. The child was, then, no longer 
 angry with her. 
 
 "Oh, I'll do any old thing you want to do," as- 
 sented Caryl. "The plan you mention does not 
 sound wildly exciting to me, but it's better than 
 spending the evening in Halloran Hovel. If 
 nothing pleasanter turns up, I'll go with you." 
 
 Julia tried not to feel chagrined at the ungra- 
 cious acceptance of her invitation. She also tried 
 not to remember how hard she had to work for 
 her money, nor how many things she needed more
 
 168 The Two Sisters 
 
 than she needed the proposed outing. She must 
 wait a while longer before getting the new gloves 
 she wanted, and her old hat was, after all, not so 
 
 very shabby. And Caryl must be amused. 
 ******* 
 
 It was late the next morning when Caryl awoke, 
 dressed, made herself a cup of coffee and left the 
 house. The hours until five o'clock lay like a 
 blank before her. She felt life to be flat, stale 
 and unprofitable in its present aspect. Yet here 
 was an entire free day and nothing to do with it! 
 If she had only known that Delaine was to be 
 away, she would have told Somerdyke and he 
 might have suggested another automobile jaunt, 
 for it was evident that he was as she phrased it 
 to herself "just crazy about her." Perhaps if 
 she went over to Delaine's apartment she might 
 meet "Harry" there. Why could she not pre- 
 tend that Julia had forgotten to deliver her em- 
 ployer's message and that she was coming to 
 work as usual? Of course, it was late in the 
 morning, but Somerdyke would not ask embar- 
 rassing questions. 
 
 A wiser or more sophisticated girl would have 
 appreciated the folly of her plan. It was not 
 likely that the man who filled her thoughts would 
 be at his friend's rooms when that friend was
 
 A Bitter Experience 169 
 
 absent. But Caryl Marvin caught eagerly at the 
 chance of seeing him again. 
 
 When she reached Delaine's apartment she 
 rang in vain at the door-bell. There was no re- 
 sponse, for Delaine had given his man the day 
 off, a fact which Caryl learned with disappoint- 
 ment when she questioned the elevator boy. Baf- 
 fled and vexed, she walked along the street and 
 turned into Fifth Avenue, strolling downtown 
 aimlessly, until she found herself at the corner of 
 Thirty-fourth Street. As she recognized the Wal- 
 dorf-Astoria, she remembered how she had hur- 
 ried through the hotel to escape Somerdyke, and 
 an impulse seized her to saunter through the place 
 as though she were accustomed to being there. 
 Assuming a blase expression, she entered the hotel 
 and went past various doors and corridors as if 
 she were familiar with them all, and as if she 
 knew where each one led. 
 
 At last she paused irresolute at the entrance to 
 a large room in which she saw articles that at- 
 tracted her longing gaze, then, as other persons 
 entered this room, she followed them. Here 
 there was a display of dainty French embroidered 
 costumes, and the beauty of them made the girl 
 thrill with delight. One pink gown on a lay fig- 
 ure, topped by a pink picture hat, attracted her 
 especially. Ah, if she could only have that!
 
 170 The Two Sisters 
 
 "That's rather nice, isn't it?" she heard a girl- 
 ish voice say in the crowd close to her, and a mas- 
 culine voice responded with a laugh "It looks 
 like strawberry ice cream, doesn't it?" 
 
 At the familiar intonations and laugh, Caryl 
 turned and faced the couple who were now right 
 behind her Somerdyke, and with him a hand- 
 somely dressed young girl into whose eyes he was 
 looking admiringly. 
 
 "Excuse me, but may I pass?" said Caryl 
 softly, but with a coquettish toss of her head. She 
 was sure that when Somerdyke saw her he would 
 leave this other woman. 
 
 The man started, and, meeting Caryl's eyes, 
 bowed gravely, without returning her sudden 
 smile of recognition, then stood aside to allow 
 her to pass out. The fashionably attired girl had 
 not noticed the encounter, and as Caryl Marvin, 
 flushed and mortified, hurried away she saw Som- 
 erdyke turn once more, with a smile, to his pretty 
 companion.
 
 XV 
 
 AN EVENING TROLLEY RIDE 
 
 IN all her short life Caryl had never been so 
 chagrined and wounded as she was by Harry Som- 
 erdyke's cavalier manner when she met him with 
 another girl. As the poor little stenographer 
 walked away from the great hotel, her heart was 
 hot within her. Her vanity was cut to the quick. 
 She was not accustomed to receiving attention 
 from men, and she had believed from Somerdyke's 
 manner that he found in her the most attractive 
 woman he had ever met. 
 
 If not, why had he sought her society and paid 
 her such marked attention? She had supposed 
 that after he knew her better he would ask her 
 to be his wife. She had made mental pictures of 
 the home she would sometime have, above all of 
 the beautiful gowns she would wear, gowns as 
 handsome as the one she had seen on the lay fig- 
 ure in the costume exhibit at the Waldorf. Yet 
 just now when she saw the man of her dreams in 
 the company of a fashionable girl he had hardly 
 
 171
 
 172 The Two Sisters 
 
 recognized his companion of the day before, and 
 his bearing had been cold and haughty. She had 
 suddenly felt that he was looking down upon her, 
 and that in his estimation she was inferior to the 
 pretty creature by his side. 
 
 Hour after hour, while she walked the 
 streets, then returned to her room and tried to 
 rest, the fire of indignation burned. At five 
 o'clock, as arranged last night, she met her sister 
 at the entrance to Baird's. 
 
 "Well," said Julia, as the pair started together 
 toward Broadway, "where shall we get something 
 to eat?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't care," replied Caryl listlessly. 
 
 "My plan," remarked Julia, ignoring the in- 
 different manner, "is to get an early supper, go on 
 the subway uptown, and from there take the trol- 
 ley out into the country, or at least into the sub- 
 urbs. It ought to be lovely out there to-night, 
 for there is not a cloud in the sky and there is 
 going to be a gorgeous moon." 
 
 "All right," assented Caryl. "I have some 
 things I want to talk to you about, and all that 
 time together will give me a chance." 
 
 "Is anything wrong?" asked Julia solicitously. 
 
 "Everything's wrong!" exclaimed Caryl. "But 
 I don't want to talk about it now." 
 
 She had brooded so long upon her grievance
 
 An Evening Trolley Ride 173 
 
 that she felt she must share it with her sister. 
 While matters went pleasantly, she did not need 
 Julia, but when they went awry she turned to her 
 instinctively. However, she did not feel like 
 talking just yet. She was faint, for she had eaten 
 no luncheon, as her temper had taken away her 
 appetite. Her sister eyed her anxiously when 
 she learned of her fasting. 
 
 "Why, my dear little girl," she demurred, "you 
 should not starve yourself like that." 
 
 "I wasn't hungry," said Caryl. "But do let's 
 get something decent to eat now. I'm sick of 
 cheap messes." 
 
 Julia hesitated. "Then you would rather not 
 go to Wild's for supper perhaps?" she suggested. 
 
 "Indeed I would rather not!" returned Caryl. 
 "Do let's go to some restaurant that's not so com- 
 mon." 
 
 "Swell restaurants are entirely beyond my 
 means," Julia reminded her timidly. Then she 
 remembered that she had heard one of the floor- 
 walker's in Baird's talking to a friend of a cer- 
 tain Italian restaurant where one could "get a 
 good dinner with wine for seventy-five cents." 
 This did not seem cheap to Julia, but it was her 
 duty to make sacrifices for Caryl. 
 
 "Suppose we go to Banta's?" she suggested, 
 and was rewarded by a smile from her companion.
 
 174 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Good I" agreed Caryl. "You are some sport, 
 after all, aren't you?" 
 
 Thus it came about that the two girls faced 
 each other across the little table in the Italian 
 restaurant. It was early, and there were few 
 other diners there yet. 
 
 "What kind of wine?" asked the waiter. "Red 
 or white?" 
 
 "We do not want wine," began Julia, but Caryl 
 interrupted her swiftly. 
 
 "You may not want it, but / do 1" she declared. 
 "Red wine, waiter!" 
 
 It was sour stuff, she thought, when she tasted 
 it, but with Julia's anxious eyes upon her she deter- 
 mined to drink it. She was warm and thirsty, so 
 she did not find it hard to gulp down the thin, 
 acid liquid. It was not strong enough to make 
 her feel stupid and queer as did the high-ball of 
 yesterday, but it did loosen her tongue, and, as she 
 ate, she talked more freely than usual to her 
 sister. She did not tell her of the luncheon or the 
 automobile excursion with Somerdyke, but she 
 told her of how she had met twice at Delaine's 
 the author's friend whom she had already men- 
 tioned to Julia, and that, although in Delaine's 
 apartment he had been "most polite" to her, 
 when she had met him to-day walking with a styl- 
 ish, fashionable girl, he had "as good as cut her."
 
 An Evening Trolley Ride 175 
 
 "Just as if I wasn't good enough to talk to 
 him!" she burst forth. "It broke me all up, 
 Judy it really did. It made me understand that 
 the girl who works for her living is despised by 
 people higher up." 
 
 "Nonsense! Nothing of the kind!" declared 
 Julia. "You are as good as anybody else. But 
 the girl who is as poor as you or I cannot afford 
 to go about with men who have money and who 
 are in an entirely different circle from us. We 
 should confine ourselves to people in our own 
 class. We owe that to ourselves, dear." 
 
 "And who are the men in our class?" Caryl 
 asked, with indignation. 
 
 "I don't know," replied Julia slowly, "who are 
 the men in our class. I do not chance to know 
 any of them. But I do know that an educated 
 and successful man like Mr. Delaine, and such 
 men as his friends would naturally be, certainly 
 are not in our class. I am sorry to have to say 
 that, little sister, but it is true! We must meet 
 them in business, but suppose that you and I prom- 
 ise each other to avoid them socially. Is that an 
 agreement?" 
 
 The tears were too near the surface for Caryl 
 to speak, but she shook her head obstinately. 
 
 Unhappy as she thought herself to be, she 
 enjoyed her dinner at the Italian restaurant. The
 
 176 The Two Sisters 
 
 repast finished, she suggested that she and Julia 
 take a trip across the river rather than into the 
 country beyond the city, as first planned. Ac- 
 cordingly they soon found themselves crowded 
 with homegoers and pleasure-seekers on the deck 
 of the boat bound for Fort Lee. All at once a 
 merry voice behind them exclaimed: "Well, I 
 declare, if there isn't Miss Marvin!" and, turn- 
 ing, Julia came face to face with Laura McDon- 
 ough, from the lace department in Baird's. With 
 her was another young woman whom she intro- 
 duced as "my friend, Miss Plant." 
 
 "My, but the world's a small place !" exclaimed 
 Laura, as, greetings having been exchanged, the 
 four girls fell to chatting. "Here Miss Marvin 
 and me are together all day at Baird's, yet we 
 meet again out here in the middle of the river. 
 Your sister don't look a bit like you," she added, 
 looking at Caryl. 
 
 Caryl tried to smile. She did not feel like talk- 
 ing with these "shop-girls," and wondered how 
 Julia could be so polite to them. 
 
 "Where are you going?" asked Laura. "Nel- 
 lie asked me to come out for a bit of air with her, 
 so that's how we happen to be here." 
 
 "We expect," said Julia, "to take a trolley that 
 goes up through Englewood or some other pretty 
 place. There is one line, I think, that runs on out
 
 An Evening Trolley Ride 177 
 
 toward Paterson. We can get off at any point we 
 like and come back, you know, for I don't want 
 to be out late." 
 
 "We'll go that way, too," declared Laura. 
 
 It was when the quartet were on the trolley 
 rushing over the hills beyond the Palisades that 
 Caryl called her sister's attention to two young 
 men seated on the other side of the car watching 
 Laura and her companion. "Common looking 
 things!" she muttered contemptuously. 
 
 Julia started in surprise when one of the men, 
 leaning across, spoke cheerfully to Laura and 
 Miss Plant; but neither of the girls addressed 
 seemed to resent the intrusion. 
 
 "Yes," Julia heard Miss Plant say, "it is a 
 lovely evening," and a moment later Laura, jump- 
 ing up from her seat, came back to the Marvin 
 girls and asked them if they would care to "be 
 presented to the young gentlemen" they had "just 
 made acquaintance with." Julia declined firmly. 
 
 "No, thank you," she said. "My sister and I 
 prefer to talk to each other." 
 
 Laura smiled, unabashed. "All right," she 
 said. "I think there's more fun in having a nice 
 gentleman with you. But everybody has their 
 own ideas of pleasure." And she returned to her 
 seat. 
 
 At Hackensack Julia suggested to Caryl that
 
 178 The Two Sisters 
 
 they get out and take the next car back to New 
 York. It was getting late and both girls were 
 tired. They bowed to Laura and Miss Plant as 
 they passed them on their way out. 
 
 "Going home already?" called Laura. "We're 
 going on to Paterson. So long !" 
 
 "Good night!" returned the girls quietly. 
 
 They were seated together on the city-bound 
 car and were speeding over stretches of country 
 roads before either of the sisters spoke again. 
 Caryl's thoughts were a curious medley of the 
 drive she had taken along here only yesterday 
 with Harry Somerdyke, and of the behavior of 
 the two girls they had just left. She had been 
 disgusted with Laura McDonough and her com- 
 panion for allowing those ordinary-looking men to 
 talk with them ; yet did not all young people like 
 merry society, and did they not have a right to 
 what they could get? Had she not a right to take 
 such happiness as had been hers yesterday? And 
 suddenly the strong necessity of speech partially 
 overcame her secretiveness, and she turned im- 
 pulsively, even affectionately, to her sister. 
 
 "Judy!" she exclaimed softly, "I want to be 
 happy! I was happy yesterday. I came along 
 this very part of the country with the nicest man 
 I have ever known."
 
 An Evening Trolley Ride 179 
 
 "Tell me about it, dear," Julia urged gently. 
 Was her sister going to confide in her at last? 
 
 Caryl told all that she thought it best to tell, 
 omitting any mention of the high-balls. Julia, 
 remembering the smell of liquor on the girl's 
 breath, noticed this omission, and knew that Caryl 
 was withholding perhaps as much as she was tell- 
 ing. She longed to warn the child before it was 
 too late. But how do it? Tactfully, she drew 
 her companion's attention to the fact that the 
 man who had taken her driving was a rich, edu- 
 cated man, while she was but a poor stenographer. 
 It would be wiser, she counseled, for a girl in 
 such a position to be sure what the intentions of a 
 man were before receiving favors from him. 
 Caryl disagreed strenuously, and the altercation 
 continued until they had reached the New York 
 side of the river. 
 
 "You mean," said Caryl hotly, as they crossed 
 the square toward the downtown car, "that I 
 must make up my mind never to know a real 
 gentleman?" 
 
 "Dear," protested Julia, "I did not say that ! I 
 only claim that a poor, none-too-well-educated 
 girl, in our class, should not accept the seeming 
 devotion or the marked attention of a man in a 
 circle much above her." 
 
 "Oh I I wish " began Caryl angrily. She
 
 180 The Two Sisters 
 
 stopped suddenly. Toward them was coming the 
 man who had followed them on the street weeks 
 ago and had spoken to them afterward in the res- 
 taurant. He was hurrying to catch the ferry and 
 did not see the girls until he was abreast of them. 
 Then he lifted his hat with a flourish as he ran 
 by them. 
 
 "Good evening!" exclaimed Caryl, in a high- 
 pitched, excited voice. 
 
 Her sister clutched her arm when the man had 
 passed. "Caryl!" she gasped, "what do you 
 mean by speaking to that dreadful man?" 
 
 "I mean," declared Caryl defiantly, "that if I 
 belong to a class of girls that cannot associate 
 with gentlemen, I may as well learn to associate 
 with the kind of man who belongs to the class in 
 which you put me!" 
 
 It was when they were seated side by side on 
 the downtown car that Julia Marvin answered her 
 sister's declaration of defiance. 
 
 "Dear," she said, steadying her voice to calm- 
 ness, "you did not mean what you just said. You 
 were angry, dear. Let's forget all about it." 
 
 But in her heart she was sick with fear of what 
 Caryl might do if angered or thwarted in her 
 own desires or inclinations.
 
 XVI 
 
 CARYL WRITES TO SOMERDYKE 
 
 As the day following the trolley ride into New 
 Jersey was Sunday, Julia Marvin awoke late. As 
 she raised her head from the pillow a pain shot 
 through her temples and she fell back with a low 
 moan that aroused Caryl from her slumbers. 
 
 "What's the matter, Judy?" she asked, sitting 
 up and eyeing her sister anxiously. "You look 
 awfully white. Are you ill?" 
 
 Julia tried to smile and reply as if she were not 
 suffering, but the pain was now surging through 
 her brain in hot, nauseating waves, each one worse 
 than its predecessor. 
 
 "No," she faltered, "I'm not really ill but 
 I've got one of my beastly sick headaches again. 
 It hurts pretty badly just at present." 
 
 "Then you must lie still," Caryl declared, lay- 
 ing a cool hand upon her sister's forehead. She 
 was always at her sympathetic best in the presence 
 of physical suffering, and Julia looked at her 
 gratefully as she noted her unwonted tenderness. 
 
 181
 
 1 82 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Yes, lie still," the younger girl repeated. "I'll 
 dress very quickly and get Mrs. Halloran to make 
 you some toast and a cup of black coffee. I'll 
 not attempt to make it up here, for the smell of 
 the cooking would make you worse. Mrs. Hal- 
 loran will be glad to do something for you. Then 
 I'll darken the room and we'll see if the pain 
 doesn't get better." 
 
 "Oh," protested Julia, "I really ought to get 
 up." 
 
 Again she raised her head, but sank back with 
 a little cry of pain. 
 
 "I won't get up just yet," she acknowledged 
 weakly. "Maybe my head will be better later 
 on. It's lucky it's Sunday, for I'd be in a bad 
 condition to work to-day." 
 
 "Lucky?" scoffed Caryl. "You have funny 
 ideas of luck, Judy. I think it's mighty hard lines 
 to be sick on the one day of the week that you 
 have to yourself. But don't try to talk any more 
 just now. I will be dressed very soon and then 
 you shall see what a cup of Mrs. Halloran's 
 coffee tastes like." 
 
 The kindly Irish woman was deeply concerned 
 at the news that Caryl brought to her. 
 
 "Sick, is she!" she exclaimed. "Now ain't that 
 too bad! To be sure I'll make her a cup of coffee, 
 hot and so strong that it'd bear up an egg. Speak-
 
 Caryl Writes to Somerdyke 183 
 
 in' of eggs, now, do you think she could ate a real 
 nice one poached?" 
 
 Caryl admitted that her sister might be per- 
 suaded to do so, and a poached egg accompanied 
 the fragrant coffee and hot toast which, fifteen 
 minutes later, she bore upstairs on a tray. 
 
 Julia ate a little, more because she knew it 
 would please Mrs. Halloran than because she 
 had any appetite. Then, when the shades had 
 been drawn down, the bed clothes straightened 
 and the pillows smoothed, Julia insisted that Caryl 
 go out for a walk, while she, herself, would try 
 to sleep. 
 
 It was a bright blue and gold day, with a fresh 
 wind from the north making the air fresh and 
 cool, despite the warmth of the September sun. 
 Caryl walked idly along Fifth Avenue, peering 
 into shop windows or looking enviously at the 
 dainty gowns of the women who passed her in 
 automobiles and cabs. She glanced down several 
 times at her own shabby little frock and her lip 
 curled disdainfully. 
 
 "I wish we were rich," she sighed, and forgot 
 Julia and her headache in dreams of what she 
 would wear and do if she were wealthy. Espe- 
 cially attractive was one dream in which she made 
 Harry Somerdyke suffer abjectly for his cavalier 
 treatment of her yesterday. She was awakened
 
 184 The Two Sisters 
 
 from a particularly spiteful scheme for revenge 
 by the sound of her name, and looking up she 
 found Kelley Delaine standing directly in front of 
 her. He wore a light gray suit and hat, and a 
 white shirt with a soft collar. In this rather in- 
 formal costume he seemed to Caryl more hand- 
 some than usual. 
 
 "Good morning," he said, with a slight smile, 
 and lifting his hat. "Your thoughts must be very 
 pleasant to make you so deaf to all the world 
 about you. Where are you going all alone at this 
 time of day? It's too late for church. And 
 where's your sister?" 
 
 "In bed; she's ill," Caryl replied curtly. 
 
 "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that!" he exclaimed 
 with such earnestness that the girl could not doubt 
 his sincerity. "She isn't seriously ill, is she?" 
 
 "No," admitted Caryl, "but she has a fearful 
 headache." 
 
 "That's too bad!" he murmured, absent-mind- 
 edly. "Are you going home now? I will walk 
 along with you if you will allow me to." 
 
 "No, I am not going home now," she replied, 
 still stiffly. "I have come out to get a little fresh 
 air before I go back to take care of Julia." 
 
 "I see," he reflected. "Well, if that's the case 
 I'll go along now and let you get your breath of
 
 Caryl Writes to Somerdyke 185 
 
 fresh air. I shall not expect you until Tuesday 
 morning, Miss Marvin. Oh, by the way, kindly 
 give me your address that I may mail your check 
 to you to-night." 
 
 Reluctantly Caryl gave the address to him. 
 Under the circumstances there seemed no way 
 out of it. This done, she bowed coldly in return- 
 ing his salute, and walked away. She did not like 
 Kelley Delaine, she mused. Somehow he made 
 her feel all the time lately like a naughty child 
 who had been caught with her fingers in the jam 
 pot. 
 
 An hour later, as she softly opened the door of 
 the darkened room in which Julia lay, she stopped, 
 conscious of an unexpected fragrance. The fresh 
 smell of roses hung in the air. Julia turned to- 
 ward her as she entered. 
 
 "How is your head now, dear?" asked Caryl. 
 "And who ever sent you these wonderful flow- 
 ers?" she added, bending over a great bouquet 
 that stood in a bowl on the table. 
 
 "My head's better," answered Julia. "No card 
 came with the flowers, so I've no way of being 
 sure who sent them." 
 
 But in the bottom of her heart she knew who 
 the sender was. 
 
 That Caryl could resist the temptation to ask 
 questions when it suited her plan to seem incur-
 
 1 86 The Two Sisters 
 
 ious, was proved by the fact that she made no 
 further inquiries with regard to the roses. 
 
 Julia's head was better, but as she did not feel 
 well enough to go out to the midday dinner, Caryl 
 went alone to their usual eating place. On her 
 way home she stopped at a small shop which 
 chanced to be open to-day, and bought a cheap 
 novel which she read all the afternoon. Sitting 
 on one chair, her feet on another, she became so 
 much absorbed in her story that it was almost 
 dark before she put the book down. Julia sug- 
 gested then that her sister go to the delicatessen 
 shop at the corner and get something to eat, as 
 she herself wanted only the cup of tea and 'bit 
 of bread and butter which Mrs. Halloran would 
 bring up for her supper. Then, as there was 
 nothing else to do, Caryl undressed and went to 
 bed, but not to sleep. 
 
 While Julia slumbered the younger girl lay 
 still, thinking out the problems of her own life 
 and likening them to those of the heroine of the 
 foolish novel over which she had spent so many 
 hours. Why might not she, Caryl Marvin, be 
 like the girl in that book? Why might not she 
 marry a rich and handsome man and become "a 
 society leader and queen"? That her ideas were 
 ridiculous did not occur to the sentimental child 
 whose imagination had been inflamed by pages of
 
 Caryl Writes to Somerdyke 187 
 
 nonsensical and fantastic romance. As she had 
 read, she had imagined herself in the place of the 
 heroine, and as the hero stalked through the 
 book, he bore to her mind's eye the image of 
 Harry Somerdyke. Surely what one girl had 
 done another might do, and where one had suc- 
 ceeded another might succeed. 
 
 But how could she again attract Somerdyke? 
 She remembered once more with a surge of anger 
 his cavalier treatment of herself in the presence 
 of another girl. But had not the heroine of her 
 novel "trusted though all the world should say 
 her nay"? And had not the hero always some 
 good reason for his strange actions? She would, 
 at least, give Somerdyke a chance, she said to her- 
 self, when she should see him. But when would 
 that be? If she only knew his address she would 
 find some excuse for writing to him. 
 
 Suddenly she remembered Julia's warning of 
 the previous evening, and she smiled to herself in 
 the dark as she recalled it. Julia was a good one 
 to talk when all the while she was having an affair 
 with somebody who sent her flowers probably 
 Kelley Delaine himself. What could attract him 
 in Julia if it was really he who had sent her 
 those flowers? 
 
 Caryl's reason for showing no great curiosity 
 with regard to the floral offering was that she did
 
 i88 The Two Sisters 
 
 not want to give her sister an opportunity to re- 
 new the subject of the night before that of the 
 imprudence of a poor girl's receiving favors from 
 men nor give her a chance to declare that she, 
 Julia Marvin, had not encouraged such attentions 
 from any man. Were she to do this, Caryl would 
 not be able in the future to declare that Julia had 
 been as imprudent as her younger sister had ever 
 been. This was, to the indiscreet girl's way of 
 thinking, a case where ignorance spelled wisdom. 
 
 Although she had lain awake until late, when 
 she awoke the following morning her eyes were 
 large and bright, her face flushed and lovely. 
 Julia was already dressed and looked pale and 
 haggard compared with her sister as she bent to 
 kiss her good-bye. An hour later Caryl, with a 
 smile of sly amusement, pinned two of Julia's 
 pink roses in her belt just before starting for De- 
 laine's studio. He had told her he would not 
 want her to-day, but she could explain that she 
 had thought perhaps he might have changed his 
 mind, so had reported for work in case he had 
 reconsidered his determination. 
 
 It was a bold bit of stratagem, but she felt able 
 to carry it out. She would watch Kelley Delaine's 
 face as he saw the roses. If he flushed she would 
 know that he had sent the Killarney beauties to 
 Julia.
 
 Caryl Writes to Somerdyke 189 
 
 Wang had evidently received no word that he 
 was not to admit his master's stenographer, and 
 as Delaine called out "Come in!" in reply to her 
 knock on the door of the study Caryl entered with 
 assumed shyness. 
 
 "I know you said you would not expect me, Mr. 
 Delaine," she hastened to assure him, "but as I 
 had a whole day on my hands I thought I would 
 stop in just to make certain that you had not 
 something you wanted me to do." 
 
 "Oh, that's kind of you," replied Delaine. 
 Then, as his eyes fell on the roses, he did not 
 flush as she had expected, but smiled with per- 
 fect composure. "Those are pretty roses," he 
 remarked casually. "Been treating yourself, 
 eh?" 
 
 "No," she said gravely. "A friend sent them 
 to me." 
 
 "Oh, I see," he remarked, with such indiffer- 
 ence that she felt her cheeks burn. "Yes, it was 
 kind of you to come, but it so happens that I'm 
 just starting off for a day up in Connecticut." He 
 glanced at his watch. "By Jove !" he exclaimed. 
 "I've hardly time to make my train now. Excuse 
 me, please, if I hurry right off !" 
 
 He caught up his hat, threw a light coat over 
 his arm and rushed from the room, and a second 
 later she heard the front door slam behind him.
 
 190 The Two Sisters 
 
 She stood still for a moment, listening, then, 
 with a swift, cat-like tread, glided across the floor 
 to Delaine's desk. She had seen an address book 
 lying there. It probably contained Harry Som- 
 erdyke's name. Picking it up, she ran her eye 
 down the page under S. His name was there, but 
 under it were only a street and number in a for- 
 eign city. With an impatient movement, she 
 tossed the little leather book back upon the desk. 
 
 As she did so, a letter Delaine had written, 
 addressed and sealed, and evidently forgotten to 
 mail, dropped to the floor. Instinctively she 
 stooped to pick it up, and as she did so, she saw 
 that it was directed to Harry Somerdyke at a 
 small hotel of which she had never heard. Re- 
 peating the address over and over to herself, she 
 left the apartment so noiselessly that Wang, en- 
 tering the study five minutes later, was surprised 
 to find it empty. 
 
 She did not remember the exact number of the 
 house, but she remembered on what street it was. 
 Just for fun, she thought, she would walk in that 
 direction, so she turned down toward the Forties. 
 When she reached the street she was seeking she 
 went into a drug store and consulted a directory 
 to ascertain where the hotel itself was. 
 
 "Number 57 West," she muttered. "Then it 
 can't be far from Fifth Avenue. It costs money,
 
 Caryl Writes to Somerdyke 191 
 
 I guess, to live in this neighborhood." She was 
 speedily reaching the point where to her a man's 
 worth depended entirely on the size of his pocket- 
 book. 
 
 She strolled along the opposite side of the street 
 from that on which the hotel was located, and 
 looked up curiously at the windows. In her old 
 home, she reflected, she would have thought this 
 building large and imposing, but compared with 
 the huge caravansaries she had seen in New York 
 it looked small, though handsome. Had she 
 known the price of a small suite of rooms, even 
 in this unpretentious hotel, she would have been 
 shocked and amazed. 
 
 She wondered if Somerdyke were at home now. 
 If he only would come out of the building and 
 meet her how easily she could express surprise at 
 learning that he lived right here in the very hotel 
 she chanced to be passing ! But he did not appear, 
 and the girl went on, planning a letter she would 
 write to him. She must make some excuse for 
 communicating with him, and needed leisure to 
 plan it. She might telephone to him; but, al- 
 though she had small care for the proprieties, she 
 shrank from hearing his voice ask coldly : "What 
 do you want?" when she really did not know just 
 what reply to make to such a question. 
 
 Suddenly a happy thought occurred to her.
 
 192 The Two Sisters 
 
 Why tell him just yet what she had to say to him ? 
 Why not keep him a bit mystified? That would 
 give her time to elaborate some story with which 
 she might account to him for her desire to see him. 
 She would go home and write the letter. 
 
 But here again she paused. She had only the 
 cheap pad-paper and envelopes with which she 
 and Julia sent an occasional line to their father. 
 Letter-writing was one of the occupations in which 
 the Marvin girls had had no cause to engage since 
 their arrival in New York. Caryl immediately 
 determined that she would not lower herself in 
 this man's eyes by writing on a cheap pad, and 
 when she reached a large stationery store she 
 entered it and asked to be allowed to see "some 
 very nice note paper." She did not appreciate 
 that this shop was what she would have termed 
 "an awfully swell place," and when the courteous 
 salesman showed her samples of "the newest 
 things in society stationery" she was almost 
 frightened at the price he named. 
 
 "I like this best," she said, touching a sample 
 which she thought looked heavier than any of the 
 others. 
 
 "That is a very good grade of paper," said the 
 clerk. "Will you place your order for some of 
 this?" 
 
 "What?" stammered the girl.
 
 Caryl Writes to Somerdyke 193 
 
 "I mean how many quires shall we send you, 
 and do you wish it engraved with your address or 
 monogram?" the man asked, eyeing her keenly. 
 
 Caryl flushed hotly. Was this fellow making 
 fun of her? she wondered. Did he suspect what 
 a little impostor she was? If so, she resolved 
 swiftly she would prove to him that she was no 
 sham, but knew a thing or two. 
 
 "No," she replied, looking him squarely in the 
 eyes. "I have just come to New York and have 
 not yet selected my new home. Later I may give 
 you an order. Just now I want to try different 
 kinds of paper until I decide on one that I like. 
 I am very particular in such matters." 
 
 "Yes, madam," said the youth gravely, and 
 Caryl thrilled with self-congratulation as she 
 imagined she had impressed him at last. "Then 
 you want only a quire or two? Shall I send it?" 
 
 "One quire will be enough for me to try, and I 
 will take it with me," she said stiffly. 
 
 Her heart smote her as she paid for her pur- 
 chase, for she knew she could have bought a sat- 
 isfying lunch at Wild's for what this was costing 
 her. Nevertheless it was a good investment if it 
 brought Somerdyke back to her. 
 
 The appreciation of her extravagance in one 
 line did not move her to economy in another, and
 
 194 The Two Sisters 
 
 she lunched as heartily as usual before going 
 home. 
 
 Seated at the little table in the window of her 
 room, she scribbled on the cheap pad paper the 
 first draft of her letter, then read it carefully, 
 adding a comma here and correcting a word there. 
 Again and again she tore up one effort and began 
 another. Even after she had made one or two 
 "clean copies" on her new paper, she destroyed 
 these and wrote others. 
 
 At last she accomplished something which she 
 felt did her justice, and she re-read it several 
 times, nodding approvingly as she did so, and 
 whispering "Good!" more than once. 
 
 "Dear Mr. Somerdyke," (the letter ran). "Ex- 
 cuse me for bothering you. But there is a little 
 matter of a personal kind concerning me that 
 moves me to think I had better have a talk with 
 you and ask your advice. You know I have not 
 any advisers in this big city, so I turn to you. Are 
 you too busy with your many friends to give me 
 a moment's time? If not, and you will send me a 
 line in care of my employer, I will get it. I do 
 not care to have you send it to this cheap board- 
 ing-place where I am staying only for a little 
 while, for reasons of my sister's, not of my own, 
 for it is humiliating to me to have to be here. 
 Yours truly, CARYL MARVIN."
 
 Caryl Writes to Somerdyke 195 
 
 "There!" she exclaimed. "I guess even that 
 little peacock he had with him at the Waldorf the 
 other day couldn't write a sweller-looking note 
 than that!" 
 
 And with a sigh of admiration of her epistolary 
 abilities, she went to the coiner and mailed the 
 result of her afternoon's labors.
 
 XVII 
 
 A TALK IN THE PARK 
 
 MONDAY was always a hard day at Baird's 
 store, and this particular Monday was no excep- 
 tion to the rule. To begin with, the girls at the 
 lace counter were out of sorts and tired Julia, 
 because of the headache that had tortured her 
 nerves on Sunday; her fellow clerks, because of 
 ithe gay experiences of the day before. After the 
 fashion of New Yorkers, they sought recreation 
 so strenuously and to such late hours on their one 
 holiday that they were utterly fagged out when 
 working time came again. To make unpleasant 
 conditions worse the day was hot. Summer, in 
 departing, seemed to be mustering all her forces 
 of heat in one final effort to cause discomfort. 
 The atmosphere of the store, never too good, was 
 warm and moist, and filled with a hundred war- 
 ring odors. 
 
 The purchasers at the lace counter were exact- 
 ing, and it took all of Julia's self-control to keep 
 her impersonal smile on duty and her voice calm 
 
 196
 
 A Talk in the Park 197 
 
 and polite in spite of the myriad annoyances that 
 beset her to-day. Her fellow saleswomen were 
 openly impatient, and more than once called down 
 upon themselves the reprimand of the floor 
 walker, who was not in a forbearing mood him- 
 self. 
 
 It was a half hour before closing time. Julia 
 had just noted this with an inward prayer of 
 thanksgiving and had then turned to straighten 
 out once more the stock of laces which a pre- 
 tended purchaser had handled and tumbled. The 
 floor walker approached and stood watching her 
 for a moment before breaking the silence. 
 
 "It's been a trying day, hasn't it?" he asked 
 affably at last. 
 
 "Rather trying," Julia admitted, smiling wanly. 
 
 "Oh, by the way," he continued, with an elab- 
 orately casual manner, "when you come in to- 
 morrow morning will you remember that the man- 
 ager would like to see you as soon as he gets to 
 his office?" 
 
 The girl's heart missed a beat and she felt her- 
 self grow pale. 
 
 "Is there any trouble?" she asked unsteadily. 
 
 The man laughed. "None for you, at any 
 rate," he assured her. "But there is going to be 
 a shake-up in this department, though I wouldn't 
 let that worry me if I were you. In fact, unless I
 
 198 The Two Sisters 
 
 am mistaken, the result will benefit you. If you 
 will go to Mr. Borland's office on the eighth floor 
 at about nine-thirty to-morrow he will be able to 
 tell you more than I can." 
 
 He nodded to her and walked away, and Julia, 
 somewhat cheered and not a little excited by this 
 indefinite good news, went on with her arrange- 
 ment of the stock. 
 
 At ten minutes past six she stepped out of the 
 sultriness of the store into the hot roar of the 
 street and made her way slowly uptown. In spite 
 of the thought of what the morrow might hold 
 for her in the way of advancement she felt de- 
 pressed. The noise and heat of the streets of- 
 fered no respite from the bustle and humidity of 
 Baird's. The people who passed her looked dirty 
 and uncomfortable. The rattle of the cars seemed 
 louder than usual. Even the pavements looked 
 hot and there was the reek of warm asphalt in 
 the air. 
 
 As she plodded on uptown against the current 
 of workers from the Twenties, sweeping down to- 
 ward their homes on the lower East Side, she 
 mused of how pleasant it must be to have the 
 means to run away out of town as Delaine could. 
 She watched the westering sun paint golden the 
 shabby fagade of a stone building, and she thought
 
 A Talk in the Park 199 
 
 of how beautiful that glow must be on free fields, 
 running streams and green trees. For a moment 
 she hated the squalor and noise about her and felt 
 that she must get away from it. 
 
 She had walked until she was abreast of the 
 little park where she and Delaine had sat for such 
 a little while one afternoon last week. A foun- 
 tain leaped and fell here, and the trees and grass, 
 vivid in the rays of the sinking sun, made the place 
 look like an oasis in the middle of the sordid city. 
 Urged by a whimsical impulse, she turned aside 
 into one of the winding pathways of the park. 
 She meant to go to the bench where she and the 
 author had talked together, and rest for a few mo- 
 ments. In the bottom of her heart she appreci- 
 ated that, as a person who had determined to be 
 utterly independent in her fight for a livelihood, 
 she thought too often of Delaine. She did not 
 feel in the mood to chide herself for the touch of 
 sentiment that had driven her to this place just 
 now. She was too hot and tired to feel much in- 
 itiative concerning anything. 
 
 So deep was her abstraction that she did not see 
 a tall figure rise from a seat as she approached and 
 come eagerly toward her. It was not until he 
 spoke her name that she raised her eyes from the 
 pavement in front of her and met the gaze of Kel- 
 ley Delaine. Then she blushed and looked sud-
 
 2OO The Two Sisters 
 
 denly more girlish and shy than she had at any 
 time in the months she had spent in New York. 
 
 "I was hoping you would come," said the man. 
 He held his hat in his hand and his handsome face 
 was lighted by a smile of frank pleasure. "I 
 played a long shot in coming down here to-day, 
 and now that I have won I am blissfully content." 
 
 Julia smiled happily and held out her hand to 
 him. Surely just for these few minutes she might 
 let herself be natural ! There were so many hours 
 when she must be practical and common-sensible 
 and cautious that she might have this little respite 
 from the dull round she had planned as her life 
 in this great city. 
 
 "It's very pleasant to see you again, Mr. De- 
 laine," she confessed. "To tell the truth, there 
 are several things I want to speak to you about." 
 She grew suddenly grave as she thought of Caryl, 
 then continued: "But I really didn't expect you 
 to be here " 
 
 "Don't say the rest of it!" pleaded the man. 
 "Let me fancy at any rate that you were thinking 
 a little of the last talk we had here in the haven of 
 down-and-outs. Now, if we can find a bench un- 
 occupied by some free and independent voter of 
 our great republic, shan't we sit down ? We really 
 can talk better if we are comfortably seated, you 
 knowl"
 
 A Talk in the Park 201 
 
 There was silence for a moment after they sat 
 down on the bench in the little park. Their minds 
 were so full of personal and intimate thoughts 
 that any casual comment would seem trivial. The 
 man was the first to speak. 
 
 "Is your headache better?" he asked gently. 
 "You are pale still, but I do hope the pain is 
 over." 
 
 "Oh, I am much better," the girl assured him. 
 Then she demanded suddenly: "But how did you 
 know I had a headache?" 
 
 "Your sister told me when I met her out walk- 
 ing yesterday noon," he replied. 
 
 Julia started in surprise. "You met Caryl!" 
 she exclaimed. "She did not mention it to me." 
 
 "Didn't she?" returned the man briefly. Se- 
 cretly he was musing that there were probably 
 many things Caryl did not tell her sister. 
 
 "Then," said Julia, flushing consciously, "that 
 was why you sent me those beautiful roses be- 
 cause you knew that I was ill. It was very good 
 of you, Mr. Delaine." 
 
 "How did you suspect I sent them?" he asked 
 quickly. "You have other friends besides me." 
 
 "Indeed I haven't!" the girl protested "at 
 least not like you." Then she stopped, confused. 
 "I mean" she stammered "that I know very 
 few people in New York, and those few only
 
 2O2 The Two Sisters 
 
 slightly. I ought not to say that I have no friends 
 for there are people who are very kind to me. 
 There is our landlady, Mrs. Halloran she's as 
 good as gold to me. And the girls in the store are 
 friendly enough, although I do not know any of 
 them well. In fact, I have made no intimates in 
 New York, and my sister and I are very much 
 alone. Each of us is all the other one has." 
 
 Her voice trembled slightly, and a question with 
 regard to the man Caryl had met at Delaine's 
 apartment arose to her lips. But before she could 
 summon courage to voice her thought, her com- 
 panion spoke again. 
 
 "Any one of the persons you have mentioned 
 might have sent you the roses for which you thank 
 me, Miss Marvin," he reminded her. "Why, 
 then, did you know at once that they came from 
 me?" 
 
 "Because," she replied frankly, looking at him, 
 "my little sister cannot afford to make such gifts, 
 and none of the other people I know care enough 
 for me to do so." 
 
 She paused suddenly, scarlet and embarrassed. 
 Without meaning to, she had admitted to this man 
 that she believed he cared more for her than did 
 any other acquaintance she had in this great city. 
 She attempted to repair her blunder.
 
 A Talk in the Park 203 
 
 "That is," she hastened to explain, "the others 
 would not have as kindly a feeling " 
 
 He interrupted her. "Please, Miss Marvin," 
 he begged, "let your first sentence stand un- 
 changed. It was absolutely true. Nobody else 
 in New York could care as much about you as I 
 do." 
 
 "Oh, don't say that!" she begged. "You do 
 not know me at all yet, and I probably would not 
 improve upon acquaintance." 
 
 "Does any other man know you any better?" 
 he asked abruptly, a jealous glint in his eyes. 
 
 She tried to smile. "There's no other man in 
 New York who knows me at all well," she ac- 
 knowledged. 
 
 "Thank goodness!" he exclaimed so fervently 
 that they both laughed. The laugh relieved the 
 strain and each spoke more freely after it. 
 
 "As I told you," Julia said, "I do not let myself 
 know many people intimately. I am in the city 
 with the purpose of making an honest living. I 
 have no time to spend in forming friendships. 
 Moreover, to be honest, if I cannot know the kind 
 of people I would want to associate with, I would 
 rather keep myself to myself. If I were to meet 
 the nicest sort of persons, my present means and 
 position would make it impracticable for me to
 
 204 The Two Sisters 
 
 associate with them. So I would not meet them if 
 I could, and I certainly could not if I would." 
 
 She meant to speak calmly, but a note of bitter- 
 ness crept into her voice. She was young and at- 
 tractive, yet she was cut off by circumstances from 
 association with young people of tastes similar to 
 her own. The man felt a great throb of pity for 
 her. 
 
 "Yet in your own home," he began, then 
 checked himself. He would not pry into her af- 
 fairs. She spared him the necessity of further 
 inquiry. 
 
 "My own mother died several years ago," she 
 said simply. "She was all the friend we girls 
 needed while we had her. My father married 
 again and our stepmother is different. So we 
 came to New York." 
 
 "Ah, yes," he recalled. "Your sister mentioned 
 the facts to me." 
 
 "Did Caryl " she began. But she did not 
 
 finish her sentence. A tall, good-looking man was 
 coming toward them along the little path, and, as 
 Kelley Delaine, recognizing him, arose to his feet, 
 the new arrival removed his hat with a slight bow 
 toward Julia. 
 
 "Hello, Delaine!" he exclaimed. "I chanced 
 to be walking along here and thought I recognized 
 you sitting here like one of the bits of human drift-
 
 A Talk in the Park 205 
 
 wood one finds on a park bench. I have just come 
 from my hotel, but the last mail before I left had 
 brought me no letter from you. I wrote to you 
 a day or so ago, asking you if you cared to buy 
 a certain horse I know of. A friend of mine owns 
 him, and as he the friend, not the horse is go- 
 ing abroad, wants to sell him. He is a good 
 mount, so I thought at once of you and wrote you 
 the facts." 
 
 "And I replied," declared Delaine. "I wrote 
 you this morning, just before leaving for Stamford 
 where I had to go on a little matter of business. 
 What did I do with that letter?" he muttered. "I 
 declare !" with a sudden gleam of recollection, "I 
 must have forgotten to mail it! It is probably 
 lying on my desk still. I just got back from 
 Connecticut an hour ago, and haven't been home 
 yet." 
 
 "I see," replied Somerdyke. But his eyes were 
 fixed on Julia, and he was evidently waiting to be 
 introduced to her. 
 
 Kelley looked slightly annoyed as he noted the 
 ill-concealed curiosity with which Somerdyke re- 
 garded Julia. The girl, herself, glanced from one 
 man to the other, mystified by the attitude of each. 
 It did not occur to her that this stranger was the 
 person of whom her sister had talked. Caryl had 
 purposely omitted mentioning his name, so when
 
 206 The Two Sisters 
 
 at last and with evident reluctance Delaine 
 spoke it, Julia was not impressed by it. 
 
 "Miss Marvin," the author said gravely, 
 standing with uncovered head, "please allow me 
 to present Mr. Somerdyke." 
 
 Somerdyke bowed low, his eyes still on the 
 girl's face. 
 
 "I am honored at meeting you, Miss Marvin," 
 he said courteously. "I am so happy as to have 
 met your sister already." 
 
 "Indeed 1" returned Julia. "You know my sis- 
 ter?" 
 
 "One of your sisters at least," suggested Somer- 
 dyke. "But I fancy that you have two a younger 
 one, whom I know, and another, much older than 
 either of you." 
 
 "No," she insisted, "I am the only other Miss 
 Marvin in our small family." Then an explana- 
 tion of his error presented itself to her mind and 
 she laughed. "We are evidently talking at cross 
 purposes," she said, "and the girl you think is my 
 sister is some other Miss Marvin's sister." 
 
 "Indeed she is not," protested Somerdyke, "un- 
 less the charming secretary in the employ of this 
 lucky man here is not your sister." 
 
 As he spoke Julia remembered all that Caryl 
 had said of Delaine's caller, and her face sobered
 
 A Talk in the Park 207 
 
 instantly. She felt an instinctive distrust of the 
 man and arose quickly to her feet. 
 
 "It is getting late and I must go home," she 
 remarked, turning to Kelley. "Good evening, 
 Mr. Delaine." 
 
 "I am going to walk a part of the way with 
 you," Delaine declared. "So long, Somerdyke! 
 I'll 'phone you to-night or to-morrow morning 
 about that horse." 
 
 But Somerdyke was not to be thus lightly dis- 
 missed until he had explained his mistake to this 
 attractive girl. 
 
 "Pardon me for intruding just a moment 
 longer," he pleaded, falling into step with Julia 
 and Delaine as they started toward the park en- 
 trance, and at his tone of entreaty the pair halted. 
 "I think I owe you an apology, Miss Marvin, for 
 my blunt manner of speaking just now. You see 
 your sister had told me of you, and of where you 
 are living to get atmosphere and local color for 
 your stories, and of the writing you do, and 
 hearing all that I had jumped to the conclusion 
 that you were a much older person than you are. 
 See? You can hardly wonder, you know, that I 
 was surprised at seeing that such a talented and 
 courageous person was still a mere girl. But you 
 will forgive me, won't you?" 
 
 The color faded slowly from Julia's face as she
 
 208 The Two Sisters 
 
 listened, but she forced herself to smile bravely. 
 Seeing that smile, and appreciating that it con- 
 cealed either a great hurt or a great fear, Kelley 
 Delaine felt sweep over him a wave of emotion 
 that had in it more of love than of pity. How fine 
 she was how plucky, and what a thoroughbred! 
 But his face remained absolutely unmoved. 
 
 "Your explanation was really unnecessary, Mr. 
 Somerdyke," Julia said gently. "My little sister 
 in her fondness for me has quite unintentionally 
 attributed to me abilities and talents which I do 
 not possess, and has been so prejudiced in my 
 favor that she has not kept strictly within the 
 bounds of fact in talking of me. Still I am sure 
 you will pardon the sister-love that made her ex- 
 aggerate as she has done. Good evening!" 
 
 There was a finality about her tone that made 
 even Somerdyke hesitate to linger longer, and, 
 once more lifting his hat, he turned away and 
 hurried uptown. The man and girl, left together, 
 walked silently toward the street along which 
 trolleys were rushing and clanging. 
 
 "What an infernal noise there is everywhere 
 to-night!" exclaimed Delaine impatiently. "See 
 here I can't stand this kind of thing!" 
 
 Without asking her permission, he hailed a 
 passing taxi-driver, and, heedless of the girl's 
 protest, insisted on helping her into the cab.
 
 A Talk in the Park 209 
 
 "Once around Central Park then I'll give you 
 the next order," he said to the chauffeur. 
 
 Julia spoke.timidly. "Please don't let him drive 
 up to my door when you take me home," she 
 begged. "Leave me at the corner of my street. 
 I don't want to be seen getting out of a cab at 
 Mrs. Halloran's." 
 
 "All right, child it shall be as you wish," Kel- 
 ley agreed gently. "Now, just close your eyes 
 until we get into the park, then open them on the 
 beauty and greenness there." 
 
 To obey was an actual relief. Yet, when, once 
 in the park, she tried to speak, tears arose to her 
 eyes and her voice broke. 
 
 "Oh," she said, "I'm ashamed of myself but 
 I'm worried about my sister! Is that the man 
 the man she went motoring with?" 
 
 "If so I never knew it!" exclaimed Delaine in 
 surprise. "I know he invited her out to luncheon, 
 but as I advised her against going without asking 
 you if she might, I supposed that she followed my 
 advice." 
 
 In a less anxious moment Julia would have 
 seen the humor of this man's thinking that Caryl 
 would follow his counsel when it was contrary 
 to her own inclination, but just now her fear over- 
 came all other sensations. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Delaine," she quavered, "she is such
 
 2io The Two Sisters 
 
 a dear child, and so pretty, and so unsophisticated! 
 If I only had some one to advise me about her 1" 
 
 For a moment the man did not speak. Then he 
 laid a firm hand on her cold and trembling fingers. 
 
 "Miss Marvin," he said, "this is no time for 
 foolish reserves. If there is anything I can do to 
 help you, please tell me. You believe that I am 
 your friend don't you?" 
 
 And the girl, looking straight into his honest 
 eyes, replied: "I know it!"
 
 XVIII 
 
 A RIVER EXCURSION 
 
 AFTERWARD, looking back at that drive, Julia 
 Marvin wondered at the frankness with which 
 she talked to Kelley Delaine. Only once did he 
 interrupt her and that was when he told the driver 
 of the cab to go a second time around the park. 
 It was a luxury to the anxious girl to confide to 
 this sympathetic listener all her uneasiness about 
 her pretty sister, even to acknowledge to him that 
 what frightened her most was the fact that Caryl 
 had grown untruthful. 
 
 "When we were girls at home she never would 
 have thought of saying that I was a writer, or any 
 such nonsense as that," she declared. "She has 
 changed in her tastes, feelings everything since 
 she came here." 
 
 The man did not say what he thought namely, 
 that the younger girl was doing things of which 
 she knew her sister would disapprove, and that 
 she loved admiration more than anything else in 
 the world. But he promised to try by gentle means 
 
 211
 
 212 The Two Sisters 
 
 to win Caryl's confidence, and also to keep Som- 
 erdyke or any other man from interfering with 
 her work while she was in his employ. 
 
 "Of course what she does when she is not with 
 me is none of my business," he said. "But I can 
 and will have a talk with Somerdyke. He is a 
 man of the world, with free and easy notions; 
 your sister is a mere child; he should not pay her 
 such marked attentions although I would hate 
 to think that any innocent young girl would not be 
 safe with Harry." 
 
 "What shall I do about telling Caryl that I 
 have seen you?" asked Julia at last. "I do not 
 want to keep anything away from her that she has 
 a right to know, but if she suspects that we have 
 discussed her you and I anything that you may 
 say to her or any watch that I may keep over her 
 will be resented hotly. This is one of the times 
 when it is hard to know what stand to take." 
 
 "If I might suggest," said Delaine, "I would 
 advise you to say nothing just yet of our meeting 
 to-day. Later, when we have won the girl's con- 
 fidence, we may make her understand how much 
 we have longed to help her in fact, when she sees 
 things from our standpoint as she must some 
 time she will not mind knowing of our talk of 
 her." 
 
 This was masculine sophistry, and in the depths
 
 A River Excursion 213 
 
 of her heart Julia could not imagine Caryl in the 
 mental attitude which her companion described. 
 But it was such a relief to her to have talked out 
 her problem to this calm-nerved, clear-headed man 
 of the world, that she did not let herself dwell 
 on the doubts that might have obtruded them- 
 selves. It was growing dusk when at last Delaine 
 gave the driver the address of a drug store on the 
 corner of the street on which was Mrs. Halloran's 
 house. 
 
 "It will look better for us to go in here than for 
 us to go away as soon as we dismiss the cab," said 
 Delaine. And Julia was grateful to him for his 
 thought of appearances. 
 
 This same thought moved him to tell her good 
 night at the door of the drug store after the cab 
 had driven off, and it was with rapid steps and an 
 almost light heart that Julia traversed the half 
 block separating her from her lodging house. She 
 hurried upstairs to her room, where she found 
 Caryl sleeping soundly on the bed. The girl had 
 posted her letter and, returning, had thrown her- 
 self down to rest for a few minutes and gone 
 immediately to sleep. 
 
 Softly, that she might not awaken her, Julia 
 went about getting ready for dinner. She moved 
 rapidly, and in five minutes after her return she 
 touched her sister gently on the cheek.
 
 214 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Come, little girl," she called, "get up. I've 
 let you sleep until late, and we must hurry to din- 
 ner. See, it's quite dark." 
 
 Caryl sat up, rubbing her eyes and blinking at 
 the light which Julia now turned on. 
 
 "Why, how quiet you must have been all this 
 time!" she exclaimed. "I had a dandy nap any- 
 how." 
 
 Julia was relieved that her sister did not ask 
 her how long she had been at home. Indeed 
 Caryl's mind was so full of her own schemes and 
 of thoughts of the morrow, and of Somerdyke's 
 possible reply to her communication, that she paid 
 little heed to Julia's manners or appearance until 
 she was seated opposite her at the small table in 
 the little restaurant where they usually dined. 
 Then Caryl gazed at her sister in surprise. 
 
 "I declare, Judy," she said, "you look lots bet- 
 ter to-night than you did this morning! Work 
 seems to agree with you." 
 
 Julia laughed happily. "I think it does when 
 it promises to mean an advance," she said. "To- 
 day the floor walker suggested that perhaps I 
 might get a promotion of some kind before long 
 and it makes me feel as if I had not labored in 
 vain." 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed Caryl. "I feel as if some- 
 thing nice was going to happen to me, too ! Oh,
 
 A River Excursion 215 
 
 Judy" with a deep sigh "wouldn't it be won- 
 derful if after all our troubles and worries we 
 were both to get everything we want soon 1" 
 
 u We can't get everything we want soon," 
 her sister reminded her. "If we did I don't be- 
 lieve we'd enjoy life as much as we would if we 
 made our way up more slowly. And at any rate, 
 if I can only make good in my work, and if you 
 are only well and contented with life as it comes 
 to us, I shall be satisfied." 
 
 Caryl shrugged her shoulders. "Well and con- 
 tented," she repeated. "I am always well enough, 
 and when I get what I want I'll be contented." 
 
 "And what do you want?" asked Julia fondly, 
 smiling into the girlish face. 
 
 But the smile faded as she noted the gleam 
 that came into her little sister's eyes. It was a 
 gleam almost of envy, and surely of bitterness. 
 
 "I want wealth, and beautiful clothes, and some 
 one to give them to me and to give me all the good 
 times that I have a right to !" Caryl declared, her 
 voice taking on a harsh note. "And when I get 
 those things and not until I do get them I 
 will be content!" 
 
 "Let us go for a walk," Caryl Marvin pro- 
 posed to her sister as the two girls emerged from 
 the restaurant at which they had dined. "I've had
 
 216 The Two Sisters 
 
 an awfully stupid day while you have been at the 
 store." 
 
 A period of awkward silence had followed 
 Caryl's enumeration of the things she needed to 
 make her content, and Julia welcomed joyfully 
 any sign of a happier mood. She, herself, was 
 tired. She had stood so much that her feet ached, 
 and the thought of her bed filled her with a long- 
 ing to lie down in it and rest. But, as usual, she 
 put aside her own preferences when Caryl ex- 
 pressed a desire. 
 
 "Where do you want to walk?" she asked. 
 
 "Oh," said Caryl, with a swift change of mood, 
 "don't let's walk, but let's go where we can see 
 people and things. Oh, I say, I have a happy 
 thought! Let's go to Coney Island ! The season 
 is nearly over, you know, so this will be our last 
 chance." 
 
 Julia felt a strong disinclination to accept 
 Caryl's suggestion. She had been to Coney Island 
 once already and remembered how crowded the 
 boat had been. She said as much to her sister. 
 
 "But that was in mid-summer," Caryl reminded 
 her. "Lately the evenings have been so cool that 
 people have got out of the habit of going. But 
 this night is a hot one, and the breeze on the water 
 will feel so good. Do come !" 
 
 The thought of the letter she had written, and
 
 A River Excursion 217 
 
 the fact that she would have to be in suspense 
 until late to-morrow before she could receive an 
 answer to it, made Caryl restless. She wanted to 
 get away somewhere or do something to make the 
 time pass quickly. Having taken a long nap late 
 in the afternoon, she did not feel the need of rest 
 as did her sister. 
 
 Julia glanced at the little watch that had been 
 her mother's. "Well," she agreed, "we can take 
 the sail down to the island and back, but it is too 
 late for us to think of going ashore. Do you 
 mind?" 
 
 "Not a bit; I don't want to go ashore," said 
 Caryl. "I just want the sail." 
 
 In spite of Caryl's arguments that the "season" 
 was over, there were crowds at the pier waiting 
 to get on the boat. Julia detested the pushing 
 and struggling for place, and held fast' to Caryl. 
 The hot day, coming after a week of compara- 
 tively comfortable weather, had made many per- 
 sons seek, as did the girls, the breezes from the 
 water. 
 
 "Oh," breathed Julia, as the mass of heated 
 humanity began to move toward the gangplank, 
 "don't you think we'd better go back, dear? This 
 is an awful jam." 
 
 But Caryl shook her head. "No," she insisted,
 
 218 The Two Sisters 
 
 "when I start to do a thing I do it. And we're 
 going on." 
 
 "If anyone should fall down in this crowd 
 she'd get trampled on," Julia said. 
 
 "Then don't fall down!" laughed Caryl. 
 
 As she spoke the crowd surged forward. A 
 kindly elderly man on one side of Julia, feeling 
 the girl pushed violently against him, placed his 
 hand under her elbow. 
 
 "Excuse me, my dear!" he said quickly, "but 
 I'm afraid you'll get hurt in this crowd." 
 
 "Thank you !" murmured Julia then, turning 
 to Caryl, "Hold fast to me, dear. Don't let's 
 be separated." 
 
 But at that moment there was a rush and scram- 
 ble from those back of her, and she was forced 
 against those ahead. She felt her sister's hand on 
 her arm, then felt the hand slip, heard a fright- 
 ened exclamation from the girl herself and glanced 
 back just as Caryl lost her footing and stumbled 
 blindly forward. Before she fell a strong arm was 
 thrown around her and she was snatched to her 
 feet. 
 
 "Steady there!" said a hearty voice, and Julia 
 saw her sister supported by a broad-shouldered 
 man. "All right now?" he asked as he released 
 her on the deck of the boat. 
 
 "Yes, thank you," responded Caryl. Without
 
 A River Excursion 219 
 
 further parley the man got two camp chairs for 
 the girls, placed them side by side, then lifted his 
 hat and excused himself. All this took place so 
 swiftly that the girls had only time to say "Thank 
 you !" before he was bowing himself away. 
 
 "I am to meet a friend," he explained. "Good 
 evening!" 
 
 "How kind he was !" Julia gasped, as he disap- 
 peared. 
 
 "He is big and good-looking," said Caryl. "I 
 like big men. Oh, Judy, see, here comes his 
 friend!" 
 
 She peered eagerly over the railing as Harry 
 Somerdyke came hurriedly down the pier and was 
 hailed by the man who had helped her. Then 
 with a swift desire to shield herself until Somer- 
 dyke should receive her letter, she shrank back. 
 
 "I know that man," she murmured. "But I 
 don't want him to see me here." 
 
 Julia had recognized the new arrival, but she 
 did not want to betray this fact. Instead, she 
 took her sister's hand in hers, an impulse of grati- 
 tude and affection moving her as she saw that 
 Caryl wished to avoid Somerdyke. 
 
 "Dear little girl," she said tenderly, "how wise 
 you are growing! He shall not see you nor speak 
 to you." 
 
 Only a part of her prediction proved true. For,
 
 22O The Two Sisters 
 
 the trip over, the crowd of passengers was surging 
 ashore when Somerdyke's friend, Ben Hadley, 
 spoke to him in a low voice. 
 
 "I say," he said, "see the two girls down there, 
 just landing? The little one is a peach." 
 
 Somerdyke laughed as he saw who it was. "Oh, 
 yes, she's all right! I know her," he observed. 
 
 "Introduce me, won't you?" pleaded Hadley. 
 
 Somerdyke hesitated for a moment. "Very 
 well," he replied at last. "I don't mind, only" 
 dropping his voice lower "wait a while. I don't 
 care to do so here or now."
 
 XIX 
 
 DELAINE APPEALS TO SOMERDYKE 
 
 HARRY SOMERDYKE was later than he had 
 meant to be when he met Ben Hadley on the Coney 
 Island boat. Indeed he had promised to be at 
 One Hundred and Twenty-ninth Street at least 
 fifteen minutes ahead of time so that he and Ben 
 might secure good seats. But, as has been seen, 
 he arrived just in time to get on board before the 
 boat left the pier. And Kelley Delaine was the 
 person who had made him late. 
 
 The author, after parting from Julia Marvin, 
 started for his apartments, his thoughts full of 
 the girl and what she had told him. He knew 
 now that he loved her, and to him love meant ser- 
 vice. What could he do to make her life bright 
 even if he could not win her affection ? There was 
 no doubt in his mind as to what was the trouble, 
 the distress of Julia's life. It was her uncer- 
 tainty, her anxiety about Caryl. Since Caryl was 
 in his employ, and since it was his friend who had 
 
 221
 
 222 The Two Sisters 
 
 taken her out to luncheon and on an automobile 
 ride without her sister's knowledge, surely it was 
 his Kelley Delaine's duty to try to keep any 
 harm from coming to the girl. 
 
 It was well enough for him to tell Julia that he 
 would try to guard her sister and to influence her 
 to be discreet and circumspect, but it was quite 
 another thing for him to win Caryl's confidence 
 and to persuade her that he had only her good at 
 heart. She was such a vain little creature, so avid 
 of admiration, so headstrong, that he felt baffled 
 when he tried to imagine himself arguing with her. 
 Still, he had given his word and meant to do his 
 best. But surely it would be wise for him to re- 
 move temptation from her path, if possible. And 
 in this case temptation meant Harry Somerdyke. 
 
 Harry Somerdyke, as the only son of a rich 
 man, now dead, had done pretty much as he 
 pleased since childhood. Delaine had known him 
 intimately when the two were young lads together, 
 but for the past five years Harry had been out of 
 the United States spending much of his time 
 playing at engineering in Venezuela and the 
 friends had seen little of each other. In their few 
 conversations since Somerdyke's return to New 
 York where he expected to remain for only a 
 little while Delaine felt how much the man had 
 changed and how divergent were their views on
 
 Delaine Appeals to Somerdyke 223 
 
 many subjects. Yet surely he had still at heart 
 some of the good old principles to which as 
 young men they had both subscribed, and through 
 these he could be reached. Harry was thought- 
 less, self-indulgent, and full of fun, but he was 
 not evil. 
 
 Remembering all this, Delaine changed his 
 course, and instead of going home went straight 
 to Somerdyke's hotel. Upon inquiry he learned 
 that Harry had just come in and was in his room, 
 where Kelley was conducted after he had an- 
 nounced himself on the house telephone. 
 
 "Hello, old man!" Harry greeted him cordi- 
 ally. "What's up? I saw you only just now, and 
 here you blow in an hour later. Sit down and 
 have a smoke while I dress." 
 
 "Thanks, no," Delaine replied. "Go on dress- 
 ing don't mind me. I can only stay for a few 
 minutes, as I'm due at my apartment to dinner 
 and you want to feed also." 
 
 "If I didn't have an engagement in a little while 
 I'd insist on your eating here with me," said 
 Harry. "But I'm just going to get a bite and then 
 meet Ben Hadley, who is in town for a few days. 
 We're going down to Coney just for the sail, and 
 we'll have supper after our return. By the way, 
 I've almost persuaded Ben to go to South Amer- 
 ica when I go back. There's a good engineering
 
 224 The Two Sisters 
 
 opening there for him. You remember Ben 
 don't you? He's from Baltimore, you know." 
 
 "Sure ! I knew him at school but haven't seen 
 him for years." 
 
 "Pretty good chap," commented Harry, "and 
 first rate company." 
 
 "Well, I won't keep you from him long," said 
 Delaine. "To come to the point, Harry, I want 
 to speak to you about my little stenographer. No 
 don't laugh," as Somerdyke grinned. "She's 
 of no consequence to me except that she's in my 
 employ. But she's a good girl, Harry, and young 
 and susceptible. Don't let her make a fool of 
 herself over you, old man. She probably has 
 never had a man pay her any attention before." 
 
 Then, so gravely that Somerdyke listened with 
 more outward seriousness than was natural to 
 him, Delaine told him of these two girls how 
 they had come to New York from an uncongenial 
 home to earn their own living, that they were 
 having a hard time, and that the older one was 
 trying to be both mother and sister to the younger 
 one. 
 
 "Believe me, she's got her hands full if she ex- 
 pects to keep tab on that giddy little creature," 
 Somerdyke commented. "I say, Kel, you seem 
 mightily interested in that same solicitous older 
 sister."
 
 Delaine Appeals to Somerdyke 225 
 
 "I am," Delaine affirmed calmly, although he 
 hoped that Somerdyke would not notice that his 
 face grew a shade darker. "I am interested in any 
 good, refined woman who is fighting as fairly and 
 honestly as she is. And as I don't want to see her 
 miserable I'm asking you not to make a fool of 
 her sister. For, Harry, you know you don't care 
 a rap about her except to have fun with her." 
 
 Harry Somerdyke was an ease-loving mortal 
 with no very strong principles of any kind. De- 
 laine was right when he said that he cared little 
 for Caryl Marvin except to amuse himself with 
 her. Yet, if she threw herself at his head the fault 
 was not his. However, as he had not seen her nor 
 heard from her since their parting last week, she 
 seemed less of a temptation and less attractive 
 than when he was with her. And he liked Kelley 
 and was willing to please him if he could do so 
 without inconvenience to himself. 
 
 "All right!" he agreed, "I promise to let the 
 girl alone that is, not to seek her out, unless, of 
 course, she takes the initiative, and sends for me. 
 Which isn't likely." 
 
 "Not at all likely," observed Delaine dryly. 
 "She and her sister are ladies, you know not ad- 
 venturesses." 
 
 Then, dropping the subject abruptly, he talked
 
 226 The Two Sisters 
 
 of the horse of which Somerdyke had told him, 
 saying he would "look him over" to-morrow. 
 
 Ten minutes later he went away, almost satis- 
 fied with his interview, leaving Somerdyke just 
 time to gulp down a sandwich before hurrying off 
 to meet Ben Hadley on the Coney Island boat. 
 
 For a long hour after their return from Coney 
 Island Harry Somerdyke and Hadley sat together 
 in the grill room of Somerdyke's hotel, wrapped 
 in a haze of tobacco smoke and talking of Vene- 
 zuela and iron mines over ice-filled glasses. Be- 
 fore the pair parted Hadley again turned the con- 
 versation to the subject of Caryl Marvin. 
 
 "Look here, Harry," he said, "do I or do I not 
 get a knockdown to that very classy article you 
 claimed to know on the boat this evening? If so, 
 when?" 
 
 Somerdyke hesitated. Then he sent a puff of 
 tobacco smoke whirling toward the ceiling and 
 spoke. 
 
 "I don't know, Ben; I really don't. I'd half 
 made up my mind not to see her again. Oh, you 
 needn't grin in that sardonic way. I'm not the 
 kind you seem to think I am. All the attraction 
 that child has she carries in her face. I've taken 
 her out to lunch once or twice. She has a fine com- 
 plexion, pretty eyes, and never a sign of intelli-
 
 Delaine Appeals to Somerdyke 227 
 
 gence. Likewise she can lie faster and in more 
 ways than a horse can kick. After the first hour 
 or so she bores me. Besides that, Kelley Delaine 
 old Puritan has been reading the riot act to 
 me about not raising expectations, etc., in the 
 child's silly mind. No, on second thought, Ben, 
 I guess you don't get that introduction after all. 
 I won't be the one to set the cat on the canary. 
 Of course, if the lady should insist on seeking my 
 acquaintance in spite of my noble resolutions, 
 that's another matter !" He smiled complacently. 
 "If by any chance she does that I'll introduce 
 you." 
 
 "How wonderful is this sudden reformation," 
 Hadley mused aloud. "At times you sound like a 
 hero in a dime thriller, Harry. I'll bet you're 
 engaged to someone. I can see it standing out 
 all over you." 
 
 Somerdyke laughed. "Guess again, old scout," 
 he replied. "It isn't that, Ben, but Kelley Delaine 
 is a good friend of mine, and he made me promise 
 for reasons best known to himself, but not be- 
 cause he cares about the girl that I wouldn't 
 turn the head of his pretty little stenographer any 
 further. I told him that I would leave her alone. 
 To tell the truth, I began paying attention to her 
 more to plague Kelley than for any other reason.
 
 228 The Two Sisters 
 
 So I'm tired, you see unless, as I said before, the 
 lady makes advances on her own hook." 
 
 Later, when Hadley had taken his leave, Som- 
 erdyke wandered up to his room. On his table 
 was a pile of letters. Three of them he recog- 
 nized as bills. The fourth was in an unfamiliar, 
 unformed hand. He opened this, glanced at the 
 signature, then smiled cynically. He read slowly 
 the note upon which the foolish child had spent 
 several hours. It would have been well could she 
 have seen this man's face as he perused her mes- 
 sage. 
 
 "Little fool !" he muttered. " 'A matter of a 
 personal kind concerning me that moves me to 
 think I had better have a talk with you and ask 
 your advice,' " he repeated. "That 'matter' is, 
 in plain language, probably something that will 
 lead to a bid to luncheon or some other fun. Well, 
 here's where I give Ben his much-desired introduc- 
 tion, at any rate. Lord knows I shan't be jeal- 
 ous!" 
 
 As he spoke he looked at a framed photograph 
 that stood on his table. It was the picture of a 
 sweet-faced girl. Caryl would have recognized 
 it as the "little peacock" she had seen with Som- 
 erdyke at the Waldorf a few mornings ago. 
 
 Before he slept Somerdyke called up Hadley. 
 
 "Hello, Ben!" he said. "Not in bed yet, I
 
 Delaine Appeals to Somerdyke 229 
 
 see. Glad I didn't wake you. Say if you want 
 to meet that girl you were talking about this even- 
 ing, you can do it by lunching with me at the Astor 
 at one to-morrow. Meet you in the downtown 
 entrance. No I haven't 'reverted to type' at all* 
 but, well, circumstances alter cases, you know. 
 To-morrow at one, then, old man. Pleasant 
 dreams!" 
 
 After which conversation Harry Somerdyke 
 sat down before his table and gazed long at the 
 girlish face smiling trustingly at him from its 
 dainty frame. 
 
 ******* 
 
 The insistent jangle of her alarm-clock called 
 Julia from her bed the morning after the trip to 
 Coney Island. Even when she had dressed and 
 had eaten her breakfast, she was still drowsy 
 from lack of sufficient sleep. On her way out of 
 the house she met Mrs. Halloran in the lower 
 hall, the morning's mail in her hand. 
 
 "There's a letter here for your sister, dear," 
 she said, as Julia bade her "good morning." "My, 
 but you do look real tired for so early in the 
 morning!" 
 
 "I didn't get to bed until pretty late," Julia 
 answered, smiling kindly, "and for some reason 
 I lay awake for an hour or two after I did get
 
 230 The Two Sisters 
 
 there so I didn't get slept out. Will you leave 
 the letter under the door of our room when you 
 go up again, Mrs. Halloran? It's probably from 
 my sister's employer." 
 
 She hastened away to her work, and in the 
 hurry of the day the incident slipped from her 
 mind. 
 
 At half past eight Caryl awoke, yawned, and 
 lay thinking. Suddenly her eyes fell on the white 
 square of an envelope protruding from under the 
 door. She had told Somerdyke to address her in 
 Delaine's care, so she arose and picked up the 
 letter without a thrill of anticipation. But her 
 heart beat fast when she saw the imprint of the 
 hotel where Somerdyke was stopping. Seated on 
 the side of the bed, she read the missive. 
 
 DEAR Miss MARVIN: Will the news of 
 deep importance with which you wish to honor 
 me, and the advice I am supposed by you to have 
 the wisdom to give, admit of the presence of a 
 third person at our meeting? If so, will you not 
 lunch with me at one to-morrow it will be 'to- 
 day' when you get this in company with a friend 
 of mine who has fallen a victim to the one glimpse 
 he had of your charming self in a public place? 
 "If one o'clock will suit you, and you do not
 
 Delaine Appeals to Somerdyke 231 
 
 object to Mr. Hadley's presence, I shall look for 
 you just inside the Forty-fourth Street entrance 
 to the Astor at that time. 
 
 "Very sincerely, 
 
 "HENRY W. SOMERDYKE."
 
 XX 
 
 BEN HADLEY 
 
 "GOOD MORNING, Miss Marvin," said Kelley 
 Delaine, as his stenographer entered his study. 
 "You look as though the world was treating you 
 well." 
 
 Caryl's usually delicate coloring was brilliant 
 to-day, her eyes were bright and her heart was 
 beating high with happiness. In her little hand- 
 bag she carried Harry Somerdyke's letter, and 
 there was room in her mind for nothing else. She 
 was to see him again! More than that, she was 
 to lunch with him and a friend of his who, Harry 
 said, longed to meet her. In her vanity she had 
 already determined to discipline Somerdyke for 
 his recent neglect, and she meant to be very, very 
 nice to his friend. She would show her former 
 admirer that she was a person to be sought after. 
 
 "Good morning, Mr. Delaine !" she responded 
 blithely as she laid aside her hat. She had dressed 
 with elaborate care this morning. "I can't help 
 feeling happy on a beautiful day like this." 
 
 232
 
 Ben Hadley 233 
 
 "Well, to tell the truth, I hadn't observed that 
 it was particularly inspiring weather," the author 
 answered. "I thought it was rather warm and 
 muggy for this time of the year. Now, if you're 
 ready, we'll get right to work. I won't dictate to 
 you to-day, but there is a big job of copying for 
 you to do instead." 
 
 He handed her a number of sheets of paper as 
 he spoke, and Caryl's spirits fell as she noted how 
 many there were. Suppose she should not finish 
 them in time to keep her i o'clock engagement! 
 
 But she attacked them vigorously and kept 
 steadily at them. There was silence in the room 
 but for the click of the machine and an occasional 
 movement from the desk where Delaine sat. At 
 half past twelve the girl paused in her task and 
 counted the sheets which were yet to be copied. 
 Then she looked at her employer. 
 
 "Would you mind if I stop for a little while now 
 and come back after lunch and finish these, Mr. 
 Delaine?" she ventured timidly. "I didn't eat 
 much breakfast this morning, and I think I will 
 work better after I have had my luncheon." 
 
 Delaine glanced up from his writing. "Of 
 course!" he assented genially. "Come back and 
 finish the copying when you are ready to do so. 
 I'm beginning to feel hungry myself, come to think 
 of it. I'm lunching at home to-day, and if you
 
 234 The Two Sisters 
 
 think you could stand Wang's weird Oriental 
 cooking, Miss Marvin, I should be glad to have 
 you share it with me this noon." 
 
 Caryl flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, thank 
 you, but I really don't think I'd better do that," 
 she stammered. "I have a couple of errands to 
 attend to." Then, as a sudden idea occurred to 
 her: "My sister might not like me to do it," she 
 added primly. 
 
 "She is quite right," asserted Delaine. "I 
 really do not think she would object in this in- 
 stance, but you must do as you think best about 
 it. Go on now if you wish, and come back when- 
 ever you like." 
 
 Caryl drew a deep breath of relief as she took 
 the elevator to the street. 
 
 "How anyone gets along who tells the truth 
 
 all the time beats me I" she soliloquized. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Somerdyke was awaiting her when she entered 
 the Hotel Astor, and he came quickly forward. 
 With him was a tall, broad-shouldered man whom 
 the girl immediately recognized as the person who 
 had caught her when she stumbled on the gang- 
 plank the night before. 
 
 "It was very good of you to come, Miss Mar- 
 vin," Somerdyke said, with impersonal politeness. 
 "May I introduce my friend, Mr. Hadley? He
 
 Ben Hadley 235 
 
 saw you last night and has been talking of noth- 
 ing else ever since." 
 
 The big man laughed and bowed low over her 
 hand. 
 
 "If you knew what a lot of time and argument 
 I spent in getting this introduction," he said 
 suavely, "you would be very kind to me to-day, 
 Miss Marvin." 
 
 "I already owe you something," Caryl an- 
 swered, with a happy little giggle, "for your kind- 
 ness to me last night." 
 
 "Not kindness," he corrected, with another ex- 
 aggerated bow. "Call it my privilege, please." 
 
 "Now, Ben," Somerdyke broke in impatiently, 
 "if you have finished bowing and scraping let's go 
 in and get something to eat." 
 
 Caryl's eyes glistened triumphantly as the trio 
 moved toward the dining-room. Was it possible 
 that Somerdyke was actually jealous already? It 
 certainly appeared so. 
 
 The girl enjoyed the luncheon more than any 
 other experience she had ever had. After it was 
 over she could scarcely remember what she had 
 eaten. Hadley sat close beside her, talking in- 
 cessantly, and she paid scant attention to Somer- 
 dyke's efforts to join in the conversation, but an- 
 swered all his friend's remarks with a pert flip-
 
 236 The Two Sisters 
 
 pancy that she fondly imagined was clever. The 
 sight of Somerdyke sitting opposite her, moodily 
 discussing his food and making only an occasional 
 remark, filled her shallow soul with exaltation. 
 Yes, he was surely jealous of Hadley, and, with 
 this idea in her mind, she tried with all her small 
 power to pique her host and please the stranger. 
 
 Before either Caryl or Hadley had finished 
 their sweets and coffee Somerdyke pushed back his 
 chair and rose rather abruptly. 
 
 "I must ask you to please excuse me for run- 
 ning away so soon," he explained as he handed 
 the check and a bill to the waiter. "Take your 
 time, you two. I must hurry along to keep an en- 
 gagement. It's been pleasant to give Hadley the 
 privilege of knowing you, Miss Marvin. Good- 
 bye. See you to-night, Ben." 
 
 "Heavens!" he remarked to himself five min- 
 utes later as he walked up Broadway "and I fell 
 for her myself at first. Hadley can have her!" 
 
 Despite the pleadings of her companion that 
 she let him take her to some entertainment of any 
 kind she might wish, Caryl remained firm in her 
 determination to return to her work. "Not to- 
 day, Mr. Hadley," she said, with a bewitching 
 smile. "Perhaps some other time." 
 
 The pair walked together to the building in
 
 DESPITE THE PLEADINGS OF HER COMPANION, 
 CARYL REMAINED FIRM
 
 Ben Hadley 237 
 
 which were Delaine's rooms. At the entrance 
 they paused, chatting earnestly. While they stood 
 thus a man came out, glanced at them keenly, and 
 raised his hat as he passed them. It was Kelley 
 Delaine.
 
 XXI 
 
 JULIA IS PROMOTED 
 
 WHEN Julia Marvin left the manager's office to 
 return to her position at the lace counter the big, 
 inartistic store looked almost lovely to her. Yet 
 she had heretofore often come near hating it. 
 Now it was a different place. It was where she 
 had put her best efforts, and this morning she 
 had learned for the first time that these efforts 
 had been appreciated. Next Monday she was 
 to be promoted to the position of head sales- 
 woman of the lace department, with the prospect 
 in sight of a further advance. 
 
 The manager, a cool, businesslike young man, 
 had been most kind to her and had said pleasant 
 things about her work, adding that the firm recog- 
 nized faithful service. At the beginning of the 
 interview he had seemed rather patronizing, the 
 girl thought, but he had concluded the conversa- 
 tion by actually asking her advice. 
 
 "Miss Marvin," he said, rather abruptly, just 
 before dismissing her, "it's none of my business 
 to wonder why a person of your ability should 
 
 238
 
 Julia is Promoted 239 
 
 have taken such a position as you began with here 
 in this store. For you have ability, as you must 
 realize. I would rather like to ask your opinion 
 concerning our lace department that is, what 
 changes you would make if you were running it 
 entirely to suit yourself?" 
 
 Julia flushed at the spoken and implied com- 
 pliment, but she answered frankly and directly. 
 "There are several changes that I would make, 
 since you ask me," she said, "although I would 
 never have thought of suggesting them otherwise. 
 In the first place, Baird handles an unusually fine 
 assortment of lace, and there ought to be better 
 facilities for displaying it more forms, cases, 
 etc. Then it seems to me that it ought to be fea- 
 tured more in the advertisements. But, of 
 course," she added, blushing still more, "that is 
 only my individual opinion, and may be worth- 
 less." 
 
 "Your opinion was what I asked for," the man- 
 ager assured her. "Go on, please. What else?" 
 
 "Well, there's another thing I've noticed," the 
 girl continued, with returning confidence. "I 
 don't think this store chooses the most effective 
 kind of advertising. I have noticed other 'ads/ 
 and I believe we'd get more custom if the notices 
 of sales in this place were made interesting, and 
 less like mere business announcements. Of course,
 
 240 The Two Sisters 
 
 the Baird method is the old, dignified one, but do 
 you think it really compares well with the way in 
 which other places call attention to their special- 
 ties ? Of course, I know very little about the ma- 
 chinery of advertising, but I have watched to 
 see what people read in the newspapers on the 
 cars and in other public places. The thing that 
 attracts their attention quickly is always read 
 first." 
 
 The manager looked at her gravely for a mo- 
 ment, then he smiled kindly. 
 
 "Thank you, Miss Marvin. Perhaps you are 
 right. I might add that what you have said to 
 me is just what I have been trying to drive home 
 ever since I took charge of this work. It is pleas- 
 ant to see that someone else who observes in- 
 dorses my views. It is rather strange, however, 
 that you should take so much interest in the store. 
 It isn't the usual attitude of saleswomen, espe- 
 cially of those who have been here as short a 
 time as you have been with us." 
 
 "It ought to be the attitude of every sales- 
 woman," Julia insisted warmly. "I consider that 
 a part of my work. Since I am getting my living 
 by this place, I think I ought to put the best I 
 have into it. Is that all? Good morning, then, 
 and thank you."
 
 Julia is Promoted 241 
 
 The manager watched her as she left the office. 
 "That young woman's going up pretty fast, if I'm 
 any prophet," he muttered. "We've never had 
 anything like her here before. She has all the 
 elements of success brains, common sense, the 
 gift of observation, perseverance and grit. Yes, 
 she'll win out, no matter where she locates!" 
 
 The day had dawned clear and warm, but by 
 three o'clock the rain began to fall heavily and 
 continued through the entire afternoon, with an 
 occasional lifting of the clouds that made those 
 not versed in the signs of the weather declare 
 that it was going to "clear off." When the hour 
 for closing came the rain was increasing. Julia, 
 with a dozen other girls, stood for a few minutes 
 in the vestibule of the employes' entrance watch- 
 ing the dimpling sidewalk and waiting for a lull 
 in the storm, that she might run to a car. At 
 last, noting by the gathering dusk that the down- 
 pour was to continue all night, she buttoned her 
 jacket closely about her and pushed through the 
 swinging doors out into the driving rain. 
 
 She had taken only a few steps when a tall 
 figure in a long raincoat and dark golf-cap stepped 
 in front of her, and, without any parley, hurried 
 her into a waiting taxicab. Then Kelley De- 
 laine, smiling happily, gave the chauffeur his hur-
 
 242 The Two Sisters 
 
 ried directions, stepped into the cab and seated 
 himself beside her. 
 
 "Here we are I" he proclaimed boyishly. "It's 
 a wild night for us poor sailors isn't it?" 
 
 "Mr. Delaine !" exclaimed Julia, trying to look 
 severe in spite of her inclination to smile, "you 
 should not have done this!" 
 
 "But I didn't," he corrected her. "It was a 
 kind Providence who sent the rain, and, since 
 that matter was not in my hands, I had to do the 
 best I could to keep you from getting wet." 
 
 "But I shouldn't let you do things of this kind 
 for me," Julia objected. 
 
 "You didn't let me," Delaine remarked. "I 
 have kidnapped you. And I have every right 
 to do it, too, Miss Marvin," he said, suddenly 
 serious. "If I'm to be your friend, it's my privi- 
 lege to help you in any way I can. Please let's 
 close the ledger of favors received and given. I 
 knew that you must have come off this morning 
 without an umbrella for it was clear then. Yes- 
 terday you told me you knew I was your friend. 
 If you believe that still, you must see that taking 
 you to your home and keeping you as dry as pos- 
 sible is the least I can do. You would have been 
 soaked if you had walked to a car. There is 
 nothing much wetter than rain."
 
 Julia is Promoted 243 
 
 Sudden drops that were not from the rain gath- 
 ered in Julia's eyes. 
 
 "It was very good of you to think about me 
 and go to all this trouble for me," she said softly. 
 
 "That's what friends are for," observed Kel- 
 ley Delaine. 
 
 He greeted Caryl with his usual politeness when 
 she appeared at his rooms the following morning. 
 The girl knew him too well now to fear that he 
 would refer by word or look to their encounter at 
 the studio entrance. He had passed her and her 
 companion then with no sign of recognition except 
 his lifted hat. Now his manner gave her no rea- 
 son to fancy that he appreciated that she had lied 
 to him yesterday noon. Yet in the bottom of her 
 soul she knew that he knew, and the thought made 
 her feel insignificant and childishly embarrassed. 
 
 "I shall be ready for you in a moment or two," 
 he said. "In the meantime, here is a letter that 
 someone has sent to you in my care." 
 
 He handed her the letter, and Caryl felt her 
 face burning under his brief glance. She slipped 
 the epistle unopened into her handbag. Intui- 
 tion told her that it was from Hadley, and she 
 did not care to read it in the presence of this man 
 whom she was beginning to hate with the an- 
 tagonism of a weak nature for a dominant one.
 
 244 The Two Sisters 
 
 "I shall not keep you past your lunch hour to- 
 day," Delaine remarked when he had finished 
 sorting out some papers on his desk. "I want 
 you to take down a little dictation this morning 
 and transcribe it, and that will be all. I was 
 sorry you had to come back here and finish yes- 
 terday. You must have gotten wet on the way 
 home." 
 
 "I did," answered Caryl. "I was soaked." She 
 hesitated. "Julia reached home quite dry, 
 though," she added vindictively. 
 
 "Indeed," commented Delaine with no show 
 of concern or interest. "She was fortunate." 
 
 Caryl bit her lips with anger as she bent over 
 her notebook. She had a suspicion that Delaine 
 had brought her sister home, but she could not 
 make him betray this fact. She had asked Julia 
 few questions, contenting herself with an expres- 
 sion of astonishment at the dry condition of her 
 clothing when she reached her room, but her 
 sister had offered no explanation. 
 
 When the dictation was finished the girl laid 
 down her pad with an affected laugh. 
 
 "I think I know the lady you have been de- 
 scribing, Mr. Delaine," she said, a ring of spite- 
 ful triumph in her voice. She was too angry to 
 be discreet. "It's my sister Julia." 
 
 She had the short satisfaction of seeing the
 
 Julia is Promoted 245 
 
 man startled for an instant out of his calm air of 
 indifference, but when he spoke it was in his usual 
 courteous, unemotional voice. 
 
 "It would probably fit any one of a thousand 
 other women as perfectly as it does your sister," 
 he replied. "There are only three or four types 
 of women and they all look about alike in print." 
 
 He lit a cigarette and turned again to his desk. 
 Caryl began her copying with the humiliated and 
 chagrined sensation of one who has been snubbed. 
 
 When her task was finished she spoke again. 
 "Is there anything else you wish me to do now, 
 Mr. Delaine?" she asked formally, not raising 
 her eyes from her machine. 
 
 "No, I think not," the man answered, turn- 
 ing around from his desk and facing her. "Ex- 
 cept, Miss Marvin," he went on hesitatingly, "I 
 would be glad if you would try to be a little more 
 careful with your typing. The last copy you did 
 for me is not as well done as were some others 
 I have had from you." 
 
 Caryl flushed crimson with embarrassment and 
 vexation. "If my work isn't satisfactory," she 
 began haughtily. But her employer interrupted 
 her with a tolerant smile. 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know I But you see, maybe I 
 couldn't get another stenographer who would suit
 
 246 The Two Sisters 
 
 me any better than you do. That is what you 
 were going to say isn't it?" 
 
 Then, as she did not reply, he continued. 
 "Don't look angry about it, Miss Marvin. We 
 all get careless at times, and most of us have to 
 be willing to take suggestions with regard to our 
 work even," with a half smile and shrug 
 "people who write or scribble whichever you 
 choose to call it. I wish," he added with more 
 feeling in his tone than she had heard there be- 
 fore, "that you wouldn't look upon me as your 
 natural enemy. I'm really a very harmless, well- 
 meaning person, and I would be glad to help you 
 in any way within my power. Just because you 
 are doing work for me doesn't mean that we can- 
 not be on pleasant terms, you know." 
 
 "Thank you very much, Mr. Delaine," Caryl 
 answered stiffly, still smarting under his mild re- 
 buke. She did not glance in his direction as she 
 arose, put on her hat and jacket, and, picking up 
 her gloves, started to the door. "I wish you a 
 very good morning," she then said, and, with- 
 out waiting for a reply, left the room with a bear- 
 ing that she tried to make haughty. If she could 
 have seen the humorous gleam in Delaine's eyes 
 as he watched her exit she would have added 
 another to the long list of imaginary grudges 
 which she cherished against her employer.
 
 Julia is Promoted 247 
 
 Once outside the studio building, Caryl Marvin 
 paused, looked about her, then drawing her letter 
 eagerly from her handbag, opened it with un- 
 steady fingers and read it. It was, as she had sus- 
 pected and hoped, from Hadley. 
 
 "Fair Charmer," the letter ran. "Won't you 
 let me see you this evening? If the prospect of 
 a dinner, and a theater, and (if you will con- 
 sent to it) a supper afterwards, presents itself 
 favorably to you, consider them all yours for the 
 acceptance. 
 
 "I leave town very soon, and it is painful to 
 remember this now that I have at last met you. 
 Please be as kind as you are pretty and go with 
 me this evening. I want to see you very often 
 in the few days remaining to me in this city. 
 
 "You will note my telephone number at the 
 head of this sheet. Ring me up at any time be- 
 fore 2 o'clock this afternoon and tell me the glad 
 news that you will be a good little sport and make 
 me happy by going with me this evening. I'll 
 show you the sights of our great city ! Ever yours, 
 
 "B. L. HADLEY." 
 
 Caryl walked down Broadway with the letter 
 she had just read clasped tightly in her hand. On 
 her forehead was a slight pucker of perplexity, 
 and her brain swam with wild, yet sweet ideas of
 
 248 The Two Sisters 
 
 rebellion, mingled with sterner and less pleasant 
 thoughts of duty. 
 
 Hadley had written her asking her to dine 
 with him that night. She wanted to go, yet her 
 intuition told her that Julia would not consent 
 to it. If she went without her sister's knowledge 
 she would have to creep home late in the evening 
 like a guilty thing, and there would undoubtedly 
 be another row. Of course, it would worry Julia 
 if she Caryl accepted Hadley's invitation. 
 This thought was the last one to come to the girl's 
 mind, and did not remain there long. 
 
 "No," she mused, as she walked on unheed- 
 ingly, "I don't see how I can go. I can't accept a 
 bid for any evening affair without Julia's knowing 
 it. I'll just have to telephone to him and say 
 'no.' Oh if I weren't a coward I'd go any- 
 way!" 
 
 She was so immersed in her own affairs that 
 she did not notice a couple approaching her 
 a man and a sweet-faced girl, talking together 
 earnestly. With her head in a maze of longings 
 and regrets Caryl continued on her way until al- 
 most abreast of the pair; then she stopped short 
 with an exclamation of surprise, and, at the sound, 
 the man and his companion paused instinctively. 
 Caryl recognized at a glance the girl whom she 
 had recently seen with Harry Somerdyke in the
 
 Julia is Promoted 249 
 
 Waldorf. A happy smile lighted the little stenog- 
 rapher's face. She was sure that Somerdyke 
 would now introduce her to his aristocratic com- 
 panion. With her self-congratulation was min- 
 gled no doubt lest she might not be able to meet 
 this other woman on grounds of perfect equality 
 of breeding and intellect. 
 
 "Oh good morning!" she exclaimed eagerly. 
 
 Harry Somerdyke looked annoyed. "Good 
 morning," he muttered coldly. He raised his hat 
 silently, then, touching his companion's arm as 
 she hesitated, he walked on with her. Caryl 
 looked after him, the smile of anticipation dying 
 from her face. Presently she spoke softly, slowly 
 and incredulously. 
 
 "He cut me !" she said. "He cut me dead. 
 He was ashamed to have her think he knew me." 
 Then she remembered that the girl had been smil- 
 ing when they met, and her imagination turned 
 what had been innocent amusement at some re- 
 mark the man- had been making into a sneer at 
 herself and her cheap costume. 
 
 "She's a hateful, proud thing!" she muttered. 
 "And so is he. I hate him!" 
 
 She clenched in her hand the letter she was 
 carrying and the noise of crackling paper started 
 a new train of thought. Carefully she opened 
 the crumpled sheet and re-read Ben Hadley's flip-
 
 250 The Two Sisters 
 
 pant invitation for the evening. When she had 
 finished the perusal her decision was made. 
 
 "I'm going to-night!" she declared vindictively. 
 "I'll show Harry Somerdyke that there are just 
 as good fish in the sea as have ever been caught. 
 If he doesn't think enough of me to speak to me 
 on the street when he's with another girl I know 
 someone who does. Thank goodness there's one 
 man who appreciates me and doesn't treat me in- 
 differently just because I'm poor! I don't care 
 whether Judy likes it or not I'm going to-night 
 and that's all there is about it. My mind is made 
 up at last!" 
 
 With reckless thoughts surging within her, she 
 stepped into a drug store and called up the num- 
 ber Hadley had given her in his note. 
 
 "Yes," replied a voice at the other end of 
 the wire. "This is Mr. Hadley. What is it? 
 Oh, yes, Miss Marvin! What's the good word?" 
 
 "I shall be very glad to go with you this eve- 
 ning, Mr. Hadley," announced Caryl tremulously. 
 
 "That sounds mighty good to me," the man 
 said. "When and how shall I meet you? Like- 
 wise where shall we go?" 
 
 "Why," stammered the girl, "I think I'll leave 
 that to you where we shall go, I mean. As for 
 meeting me," she hesitated for a second, thinking 
 rapidly. It would be just and fitting to meet this
 
 Julia is Promoted 251 
 
 man in the very same hotel in which Harry Som- 
 erdyke had flouted her the other day, when he 
 had another girl with him. "I'll be right inside 
 of the downtown entrance to the Waldorf at 
 whatever time you say," she suggested. 
 
 "But why not let me call for you at your 
 house?" Hadley protested. "I don't like you to 
 come all that way by yourself." 
 
 "It isn't such a long way," Caryl affirmed 
 quickly, "and I would rather meet you there." 
 
 "Your humble servant obeys your slightest 
 wish," Hadley rejoined. "Let it be the Waldorf, 
 then, at 6 130, if that suits you. You are many 
 sweet things for consenting to go with me, but I 
 would rather tell you of them face to face. May 
 I when I see you?" 
 
 "You aren't dumb, are you, Mr. Hadley?" 
 parried Caryl, and smiled as she heard his laugh. 
 
 "I shall count the minutes until half past six," 
 he told her. "Until then, good-by!" 
 
 The girl's face was flushed when she reached 
 the street, nor did her color fade as she walked 
 downtown. Elation, gratified vanity and antici- 
 patory pleasure made her heart beat fast. What- 
 ever misgivings she might have had were quickly 
 subdued by thoughts of what the evening held 
 in store for her. She was too much excited to 
 think of eating, but, stopping at a confectioner's,
 
 252 The Two Sisters 
 
 drank a glass of iced milk. Then she started 
 toward home to set about the serious problem 
 of getting dressed for dinner. 
 
 But suddenly she paused. What had she that 
 was fit to wear? She remembered with a throb 
 of joy that she had in her purse a large part of 
 her week's salary. Some of it was to go for room 
 rent, but Julia could pay that and Caryl would 
 settle for her share next week. Her resolutions 
 were quickly made, and she turned her steps 
 toward a department store. When she emerged 
 from this fifteen minutes later she carried a par- 
 cel containing a flimsy, low-necked pink silk waist, 
 elaborately trimmed with rather coarse lace, and 
 a little black net hat, "just the thing for evening 
 wear," the saleswoman had told her. It had 
 been, this saleswoman affirmed, a high-priced hat, 
 but was "marked down" at the close of the sea- 
 son. 
 
 "But, although it was made for the summer 
 trade, it is a perfect dress hat and will do for 
 weeks to come," said the woman. And Caryl, 
 thinking of the effect she would produce in this 
 same hat, smiled and almost forgot Somerdyke's 
 rebuff.
 
 XXII 
 
 A GAY EVENING 
 
 AFTER purchasing her pink waist and "evening 
 hat," Caryl walked homeward thoughtfully, her 
 mind filled with the problem of explaining to Ju- 
 lia her absence for the evening. When she reached 
 her room she deposited her parcel on the bed, 
 and stood for a moment irresolute. Then, turn- 
 ing abruptly, she went downstairs and out-of- 
 doors again. She would get a disagreeable thing 
 over at once so that she could enjoy her evening. 
 She must put matters so that there should be no 
 quarrel to-night or after any future meetings with 
 Hadley, if, as she hoped, he should ask for future 
 meetings. She would go to Baird's now and tell 
 Julia something that would sound plausible. 
 
 By the time she reached Baird's she had de- 
 cided upon that "something." She told herself 
 that she was sorry to have to be a little untruthful, 
 but if her sister was so exacting she could not 
 expect anyone to be entirely frank with her. 
 Moreover, was it not the duty of the younger girl 
 
 253
 
 254 The Two Sisters 
 
 to prevent the older one from worrying? Was 
 it not better to make Julia comfortable in her 
 mind than to have her anxious and unhappy? 
 Caryl Marvin's sophistry worked so well upon 
 her conscience that she actually felt a glow of 
 self-righteousness at the idea of sacrificing her 
 own ideas of truth to keep her sister calm and 
 care-free. 
 
 When she arrived at the lace-counter Julia 
 was out at luncheon. 
 
 "She'll be back soon, for she never stays long," 
 Laura McDonough informed her. "I think it's 
 foolish not to take every inch of time that's al- 
 lowed you. But your sister don't look at it that 
 way." 
 
 "I know," agreed Caryl. "It's a pity she 
 takes things so seriously." 
 
 "It sure is!" affirmed Minnie Maibrunn, who 
 had drawn near during the conversation, "for 
 she's so pretty she might have lots of fun. There 
 was a swell-looking guy that came here to talk 
 to her, but I declare she looked as if she wished 
 he was out of the way. I knew by the cut of his 
 jib that he was some class. She looked peeved 
 when I asked her about him, so I let the matter 
 drop. But," with a knowing wink "I noticed 
 all right that when she started to walk home in 
 that rain he was waitin' with a cab for her."
 
 A Gay Evening 255 
 
 Caryl controlled the intense interest that she 
 felt at these revelations, and spoke indifferently. 
 
 "Yes," she said. "I was glad he brought her 
 home, for if he hadn't she would have got soaked 
 as I did, by the way. But are you sure that the 
 man who was talking to her here at the counter 
 was the same one that took her home?" 
 
 "Sure I am!" averred Minnie. "He's rather 
 tall." 
 
 Caryl recalled with some amusement that as 
 Delaine, Somerdyke and Hadley were all tall, 
 this description did not distinguish one from the 
 other. But she knew without further questioning 
 who Julia's cavalier had been. The knowledge 
 determined her as to her own course. 
 
 Julia's appearance at this juncture interrupted 
 the conversation, and, with a nod of good-by to 
 the two salesgirls, Caryl drew her sister to one 
 end of the counter. 
 
 "I want to talk to you for a minute, Judy," 
 she said quickly. "I have accepted an invita- 
 tion for dinner and the theater to-night, and, as 
 I will be gone when you get home, I came all 
 the way down here to explain the matter to you." 
 
 "Going to dinner and the theater!" exclaimed 
 Julia. "Not not with that Mr. Somerdyke 
 are you, dear?"
 
 256 The Two Sisters 
 
 Caryl tossed her head. "Indeed nol" she ex- 
 claimed. "I'm done with him!" 
 
 "I am glad," said her sister. "I might have 
 known you would do the right thing. But" 
 looking anxious "who is the person with whom 
 you are going?" 
 
 Caryl had her story all ready, but she pre- 
 faced it with a little sigh. 
 
 "I wish you would try to trust me, Judy," she 
 regretted. "Haven't I proved to you that I know 
 when a man is not just the right kind? But, as 
 you won't trust me, I will assure you that I am 
 to be in good hands this evening and that I will 
 get back safe and sound after the theater un- 
 less my friends want to take me to supper after- 
 wards. Then I will, of course, be later in getting 
 
 in." 
 
 "Your friends?" Julia questioned. "What 
 friends?" 
 
 Again Caryl sighed with elaborate patience. 
 "Well, there's a very nice gentleman that I met 
 through one of Mr. Delaine's callers a person 
 anybody could trust and he and his sister are 
 going to the theater together to-night." 
 
 Julia smiled with relief. "His sister too !" she 
 said. "And they have asked you to go with 
 them? How nice! Always supposing," hesi-
 
 A Gay Evening 257 
 
 tatingly "that the sister is a refined person as 
 I suppose she is isn't she?" 
 
 Caryl flushed with annoyance. "I should 
 hardly suppose," she reminded her, "that any of 
 Mr. Delaine's friends would introduce me to men 
 whose sisters were not refined and nice!" Then, 
 as this argument did not seem to move Julia to a 
 reply, the younger girl played her last card. 
 
 "Really, Judy," she said in a low voice, "if 
 Mr. Delaine is the kind of person you would re- 
 ceive flowers from, and that you would make ap- 
 pointments with at your place of business, and 
 that you would ride alone with in cabs if, I 
 say, he is the kind that you can be seen with until 
 people talk about it I should think you would 
 believe that anyone I would meet through a friend 
 of his must be respectable! Don't you think so 
 now yourself?" 
 
 Julia Marvin's face was suffused with a sudden 
 wave of color which, retreating, left her very 
 pale. She started to speak, but Caryl interrupted 
 her by a light laugh. 
 
 "That's all right, Judy, dear!" she exclaimed, 
 patting her sister's cheek playfully. "No expla- 
 nations are necessary. We all do that kind of 
 thing, you see that is, all of us who get the 
 chance! So long! Don't lie awake for me but 
 go to bed and get your beauty-sleep for you
 
 258 The Two Sisters 
 
 are pale to-day. I'll be in somewhere around mid- 
 night!" 
 
 And, with a wave of the hand and another gay 
 laugh, Caryl Marvin hurried away. 
 
 "Oh, I say!" Hadley exclaimed admiringly as 
 he took Caryl's hand in greeting. "You look as 
 sweet as a peach this evening. Don't you know 
 you do?" 
 
 "I'm glad you think so," the girl replied co- 
 quettishly. 
 
 Her eyes dwelt approvingly on his well-built 
 figure in correct evening attire. Any coarseness 
 which his face might have betrayed to the keen 
 observer was not perceived by his companion. 
 The stern simplicity of full dress was becoming 
 to him, and Caryl thought him handsome and 
 distinguished in appearance as he smiled down at 
 her. 
 
 "Well," said Hadley, "the first thing for us 
 to do is to decide where we'll go to dinner. Have 
 you any particular preference?" 
 
 "None," said Caryl. "I'd rather leave that to 
 you." 
 
 "Suppose we go to Livingstone's, then," the 
 man suggested. "They have a corking good caba- 
 ret there, and I certainly do like music with my
 
 A Gay Evening 259 
 
 meals. Does that suit you? All right, then," as 
 Caryl nodded, "come along with me." 
 
 He took her arm and guided her through the 
 hotel lobby to the street. 
 
 Livingstone's Restaurant was gay with the 
 glaring over-decoration that passes for elegance 
 under the electric lights of Broadway. Women, 
 gowned in the ultra-stylish mode, chatted stri- 
 dently with heavy-faced men seated opposite them 
 at the small tables, while waiters hurried silently 
 to and fro over the heavy carpet. At one end 
 of the room a hectic pianist and a sallow, shock- 
 haired violinist were attacking the accompani- 
 ment to the latest ragtime atrocity which a rouged 
 woman sang shriekingly in a high, piercing voice 
 as she pirouetted up and down the aisles formed 
 by the rows of tables. To Caryl's susceptible 
 senses it seemed like a glimpse of a hitherto un- 
 known world. 
 
 "It's wonderful!" she said ecstatically after an 
 unctuous head-waiter had conducted them to a 
 small table in the corner of the room. "This 
 is the first time I have ever been in a place of 
 this sort." 
 
 "I like it," her companion agreed. "Some 
 people don't fancy the glitter and music, but I'm 
 strong for them. Somerdyke loathes cabarets. I 
 can't drag him into one."
 
 260 The Two Sisters 
 
 The smile faded for a moment from Caryl's 
 lips at the mention of Somerdyke's name, and, 
 recollecting anew her grievance, she determined 
 to be more than usually agreeable to her present 
 escort. 
 
 "It was very kind of you to think of giving me 
 all this pleasure, Mr. Hadley," she said archly. 
 "I have so little amusement!" 
 
 "The kindness is all on your side," replied the 
 man. "I was rather afraid to ask you at first, 
 but I let my desire get the best of my timidity. 
 You certainly got my number the first time I ever 
 saw you, girlie." 
 
 "I'm afraid that's what you tell every girl you 
 know, Mr. Hadley," Caryl protested. 
 
 "Indeed it isn't!" he denied warmly, leaning 
 across the table toward her. "You're different 
 from all the rest, Miss Marvin. You appeal to 
 me as no other girl I have ever met has done. 
 That's the simple truth of the matter." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Hadley!" stammered Caryl, startled 
 into forgetfulness of the part she was assuming. 
 The apparent earnestness of his manner had dis- 
 concerted her for the moment. "I'm sure you 
 don't mean that." 
 
 "Please call me Ben," he begged. "I know 
 this request seems rather sudden, and all that," 
 he went on, noting with satisfaction how the rich
 
 A Gay Evening 261 
 
 color pulsed in the girl's cheeks, "but I'm going 
 away so soon and won't be back for some 
 months and I want you to learn to care a little 
 about me before I go. Do you think I coulcl make 
 you do this?" 
 
 "Perhaps," faltered Caryl, her voice trembling 
 with the joyous beating of her heart. Somerdyke 
 had never talked to her like this. She told her- 
 self that she was realizing at last that for which 
 she had longed, and her happiness made her 
 breath come fast. 
 
 "Then will you begin by calling me by my 
 first name?" Hadley urged, triumph shining in his 
 eyes. 
 
 "Yes," promised Caryl, her cheeks crimson 
 with excitement and gratified vanity. "But you 
 mustn't call me 'Miss Marvin' any more, then. 
 My name is 'Caryl.' ' 
 
 "It's a bargain!" exclaimed Hadley, raising his 
 glass which the waiter had just brought. "Let's 
 drink a cocktail to our better acquaintance 
 Caryl!" 
 
 Julia had spent a dreary evening in her room. 
 For an hour Mrs. Halloran had tried to enter- 
 tain her with a lengthy and pointless story of the 
 doings of some remote relatives in "the old coun- 
 try." The girl had listened with a show of in-
 
 262 The Two Sisters 
 
 terest which gratified the talker, but in reality her 
 thoughts had been elsewhere. She was unaccount- 
 ably uneasy about Caryl, a fact for which she 
 chided herself. 
 
 Twice after Mrs. Halloran had returned to her 
 own rooms in the basement Julia was on the verge 
 of going out to telephone to Delaine and ask him 
 what he knew about the people to whom 'his 
 friend had introduced his stenographer. Then 
 a sense of loyalty to her sister and a mortifying 
 recollection of that sister's insinuations with re- 
 gard to Delaine's attentions deterred her. At 
 last she controlled her doubts and fears sufficiently 
 to undress and go to bed, but sleep eluded her 
 and she lay in the darkness listening for the sound 
 of Caryl's footsteps on the stairs. When her 
 clock told her that it was after twelve, she rose, 
 put on her wrapper and slippers, and paced the 
 floor in an agony of anxiety. 
 
 It was one o'clock when the door opened softly 
 and Caryl entered the room. Her face was 
 flushed and her eyes were unnaturally bright. 
 With an exuberance of feeling which her sister 
 had never seen her display before she ran to Julia 
 and flung her arms around her. 
 
 "Oh, Judy, Judy!" she exclaimed rapturously, 
 "I've had such a lovely time!" 
 
 Again, as once before, Julia's heart sank sick-
 
 A Gay Evening 263 
 
 eningly as the acrid odor of liquor assailed her 
 nostrils. She started to speak, but controlled the 
 impulse. Suddenly there flashed into her mind a 
 saying of her father's, "It's ill arguing with a 
 drunken man," and she shuddered at the word 
 "drunken," then chided herself sharply for think- 
 ing of such a condition in connection with her lit- 
 tle sister. Caryl's friends had probably coaxed 
 her to drink a glass of wine, and, rather than seem 
 peculiar, the child had yielded and had been af- 
 fected by it because she was unused to stimulants 
 just as she had been affected before by some- 
 thing she had taken when with Somerdyke. Re- 
 membering this, the older sister decided to wait 
 until to-morrow before uttering any word of 
 warning or admonition. 
 
 Meanwhile Caryl, struck by the silence, slowly 
 removed her arms from her sister's neck and 
 looked at her apprehensively. 
 
 "Please, Judy," she begged, "don't scold me for 
 being out so late! Don't spoil my fun by being 
 cross about it!" 
 
 "I'm not going to be cross, dear," Julia re- 
 sponded gently. "But I do not mean to let you 
 stay up any longer now, for you are tired. Un- 
 dress, dear, and get into bed." 
 
 The girl began to remove the pins from her
 
 264 The Two Sisters 
 
 hat arid, as she did so, Julia started in astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 "Why, Caryl!" she exclaimed, "you have a new 
 hat! Where did you get it?" 
 
 Caryl giggled nervously. "Yes isn't it a stun- 
 ner?" she replied. "I got it this afternoon, and 
 this waist at the same time. I simply had to have 
 them, you know, for I expect to go to fashion- 
 able places more than I have been doing. Aren't 
 they both pretty?" 
 
 "They are very becoming," Julia assented 
 slowly. She was tempted to ask what they cost, 
 but refrained. Caryl, guessing her thought, spoke 
 with apparent frankness. 
 
 "You see," she said, "I am getting quite good 
 pay considering from Delaine, and he ought 
 to give me a raise soon. I must look well, for 
 my position demands it. So, Judy, I decided to 
 get these things this week and pay you later for 
 my share of the room-rent." 
 
 As Julia did not reply immediately, Caryl gig- 
 gled again. "I declare," she remarked, "the fun 
 I had in these new things was worth more than 
 the price paid for them." 
 
 "Were the girl and her brother so pleasant?" 
 asked her sister, trying to conceal her disapproval. 
 
 Caryl looked puzzled for an instant, then
 
 A Gay Evening 265 
 
 laughed: "Oh, yes," she said, "they're all right 
 and they took me to a good show." 
 
 "What is the name of these people?" queried 
 Julia. "I do not even know their names." 
 
 Caryl was lifting her dress-skirt off over her 
 head and pretended not to hear; when she 
 emerged from its folds she yawned, then sighed. 
 
 "Oh," she murmured, "I'm so sleepy! Hon- 
 estly, I'm too drowsy to stop to take down my 
 hair. I wanted to tell you about the evening, but 
 I can't now. Hand me my nightgown, Judy, and 
 let me get right to bed. I feel queer and sickish 
 all of a sudden. I'll tell you all about the affair 
 to-morrow." 
 
 Julia said no more, and Caryl prepared for 
 bed. The younger girl had not been lying down 
 for three minutes before she was fast asleep. But 
 the room .was gray with dawn before her sister 
 slumbered. 
 
 Caryl was not awake when Julia arose and be- 
 gan to dress, and was still sleeping when the older 
 girl had completed her toilette and had cooked 
 and eaten her simple breakfast. 
 
 "Come, Caryl, dear," she called, laying her 
 hand on the sleeper's flushed cheek. "I've let you 
 sleep as late as I dare if I am to give you your 
 coffee before I start for work." 
 
 Caryl raised her heavy lids and looked at her
 
 266 The Two Sisters 
 
 sister dully. "I've got a headache," she com- 
 plained. "I wish you'd let me alone." 
 
 "But what about your work, dear?" Julia re- 
 minded her. "If I let you sleep you may not get 
 up in time for that, for you are so drowsy this 
 morning that you may not awaken yourself." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I will," Caryl insisted. Then she 
 opened her eyes wider and looked at her sister 
 obstinately. 
 
 "I wish," she said, "that you'd telephone to 
 Mr. Delaine and tell him I'm not well and can't 
 come to him this morning." 
 
 "Oh, Caryl!" protested Julia. "That would 
 not be right, dear. You are in his employ and 
 if you are able to get up you must keep your ap- 
 pointment with him." 
 
 Caryl turned over, yawned, stretched and 
 frowned. "Now, see here, Judy," she argued, 
 "I'm tired and I don't mean to get up yet nor as 
 early as I usually do. Since you make such a fuss 
 over my not going to work to-day, I promise to 
 get up so that I will be at old Delaine's at eleven. 
 Tell Mrs. Halloran to call me about ten no 
 earlier. I never hear the alarm, so you needn't 
 set that for me. You can telephone your young 
 man that I'll be with him at eleven." 
 
 She turned her face away, pulled the covers
 
 A Gay Evening 267 
 
 over her shoulders and closed her eyes. Julia 
 looked at her in perplexity. 
 
 "Caryl, dear," she pleaded, "that is not a 
 straight nor a business-like plan. You don't mean 
 to do that, do you?" 
 
 With an effort the girl opened her eyes again 
 and regarded her sister. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "/ do mean it. You can tele- 
 phone him that I do. By the way, it does not 
 seem to me that in your own plans with him you 
 have been so 'straight and business-like,' as you 
 call it, that you can scold me when I do as I please. 
 That makes a difference, doesn't it? Now, do 
 please go on and leave me alone. I'll talk all 
 you like later. Now I want to go to sleep." 
 
 Julia walked to her work with a serious face. 
 Her gravity was not all because her little sister 
 had been out late, or had taken enough liquor to 
 make her excited last night and sleepy and cross 
 this morning. These facts were in themselves 
 sufficiently disturbing, but Julia fortified her faint- 
 ing heart with the thought that a nice girl the 
 sister of someone whom Caryl had met through 
 a friend of Delaine's had been with the child. 
 Probably this same girl and her brother did not 
 appreciate how unaccustomed Caryl was to the 
 gayety which they took for granted. Julia per- 
 suaded herself that the only objectionable thing
 
 268 The Two Sisters 
 
 about them was, perhaps, a rather Bohemian style 
 of life. She would ask Delaine what he knew 
 about these people, and he would, she hoped, as- 
 sure her that they were desirable companions for 
 her sister. Until then she would try not to worry 
 about the affair. 
 
 But what distressed her and caused her especial 
 uneasiness this beautiful autumn morning was that 
 Caryl had evidently formed the idea that she 
 Julia was in the habit of making appointments to 
 meet Kelley Delaine at her place of business and of 
 having clandestine meetings with him elsewhere. 
 
 When the elder girl reviewed mentally all of 
 her encounters and conversations with the author, 
 she felt no pang of conscience. These had been 
 of such a nature, she reflected, that she could 
 have told her mother all about them, had that 
 mother been living. 
 
 The hot tears arose suddenly to her eyes as 
 she .considered how much she needed the advice 
 and counsel of the mother she had loved, and 
 she saw the vista of the already busy street 
 through a quivering mist. Then she set her lips 
 in a firm line to still their quivering and walked 
 on bravely. 
 
 Still she was unhappy in the knowledge that 
 Caryl, doubting Delaine's honor and her sister's 
 discretion, was using the harmless friendship be-
 
 A Gay Evening 269 
 
 tween the two as an excuse for any imprudent 
 actions of her own. Was it the duty of an elder 
 sister to make such suspicions on the part of the 
 foolish young girl impossible? Should she degline 
 to see this man who was her only stanch friend 
 in this great city? And at the suggestion of sev- 
 ering all friendly relations with him her heart 
 gave a throb of pain, and she whispered quickly, 
 "Oh, I can't!" 
 
 The pain and the involuntary exclamation were 
 a self-revelation, and she tried to hide from her 
 own soul the fact that she was learning to love 
 this man whom she had met only a few times. 
 Surely this feeling was only friendship, she de- 
 clared fiercely. Since he was her friend, she could 
 ask him his opinion of these new acquaintances 
 of Caryl's. 
 
 By the time she had come to this conclusion 
 Julia Marvin had reached Baird's. Here after 
 calling up Delaine's apartment and delivering to 
 his servant Caryl's message she took her place 
 behind the counter with the reassuring thought 
 that to-day, at least, she need take no steps in the 
 matter that was troubling her not until she had 
 a frank talk with Caryl this evening. During that 
 talk she would try to win the child's confidence, 
 and would learn the names of Caryl's hosts of 
 last night
 
 XXIII 
 
 A TELEPHONE MESSAGE AND A SCHEME 
 
 Mrs. Halloran, in accordance with Julia's re- 
 quest, mounted the stairs at 10 o'clock and rapped 
 on Caryl's door with a thump that made the girl 
 spring to a sitting posture. 
 
 "What under the sun is the matter?" she called 
 out tartly. "Don't knock so hard!" 
 
 "Sure, your sister told me to be sure to wake 
 you at tin o'clock," called back the strenuous land- 
 lady, "and it's that time now!" 
 
 "All right!" grumbled Caryl. "Thank youl" 
 
 The thanks were uttered in such an ungracious 
 tone that Mrs. Halloran did not carry out her 
 first kindly impulse of telling the late riser that 
 she would bring up to her a cup of coffee. 
 
 "Indade she can fend for herself, all right, all 
 right!" she muttered, as she went heavily down- 
 stairs. 
 
 All trace of annoyance had disappeared from 
 Caryl Marvin's fair face as she greeted Kelley 
 
 270
 
 A Telephone Message 271 
 
 Delaine an hour later. Intuition warned her that 
 if he and Julia were on friendly terms it would 
 be as well for his stenographer to be in his good 
 books until she could make arrangements to better 
 herself. 
 
 Her evening with Hadley had awakened in her 
 silly and vain mind wild hopes for love and mar- 
 riage. Had Ben Hadley not told her that she 
 was different from all the other girls he had ever 
 known, and that he wanted her to. learn to care 
 for him before he went away? Did that not mean 
 that he would ask her to marry him as soon as 
 he was sure of her affection? 
 
 Might it not be a case of love at first sight, 
 such as she had read of and heard of? Why 
 should any man even if he did have lots of 
 money (and she thrilled with the conviction that 
 Hadley was rich) take a girl to such a dinner, 
 and to such a stunning show at the theater the 
 best seats in the house, too! if he was not des- 
 perately smitten with her? All that was needed 
 now was the opportunity to see him often. 
 
 If only Julia would recognize what a chance lay 
 before her sister and would not make matters 
 difficult by her prudery and fussiness, how happy 
 she, Caryl, might be at last! She saw, as in a 
 vision, herself engaged, then married and dress- 
 ing in beautiful clothes, moving in fashionable so-
 
 272 The Two Sisters 
 
 ciety, meeting and flouting Somerdyke and his 
 "stuck-up" girl friend. 
 
 But how could she pull wires so as to remove 
 all obstacles to such a blissful consummation? 
 Perhaps if she kept on the right side of Delaine 
 he might persuade Julia that any persons whom 
 one might meet through any friend of his were 
 suitable associates for his stenographer. 
 
 But to have him do this Caryl must plan some 
 way to make him think that he knew the persons 
 with whom she was supposed to have spent last 
 evening. To carry out this scheme she must see 
 Hadley. Ah, well, she knew she would hear from 
 him before the day was over! And, thinking 
 this, she smiled brilliantly in returning her em- 
 ployer's grave "Good morning!" 
 
 "I hope you are feeling better, Miss Marvin," 
 remarked Delaine as his stenographer took her 
 seat at the machine. 
 
 "Oh, yes, thank you, Mr. Delaine," Caryl re- 
 plied. "I hope that my coming at eleven instead 
 of ten was not inconvenient to you?" 
 
 "It happens that it was not inconvenient on this 
 particular morning," returned Delaine, "as I 
 chanced to have a bit of work on hand that I 
 -could do while waiting for you." 
 
 "I suppose my sister telephoned you?" queried 
 Caryl.
 
 A Telephone Message 273 
 
 "I do not know who called up," the man said. 
 "Wang answered the 'phone and was told to in- 
 form me that as Miss Marvin was not well she 
 would not be here until eleven o'clock. Now 
 shall we get to work?" 
 
 Caryl glanced at him suspiciously. Was he 
 lying to her, she wondered, and had Julia had a 
 talk with him about last evening's affair? 
 
 One of the prices the liar pays for his sin is 
 that he always suspects that other people are lying 
 to him. 
 
 This morning Caryl Marvin pinned her mind 
 to the work before her. She took Delaine's dic- 
 tation with an air of absorption in his every sen- 
 tence that could not fail to impress the author. 
 After all, he thought, she was a good little thing, 
 even if she was silly, and she was evidently trying 
 hard to please him. She could hardly live with 
 such a girl as her sister and not absorb some of 
 the conscientious industry that that splendid crea- 
 ture possessed. At the remembrance of the 
 woman whom he loved his voice grew gentler, his 
 eyes kinder. And Caryl, noting this, thought that 
 he liked his stenographer better to-day than ever 
 before. Was it because of her efforts to do her 
 work well, or because she was looking so pretty 
 this morning? 
 
 The shrill summons of the telephone on the
 
 274 The Two Sisters 
 
 desk interrupted Kelley Delaine's train of 
 thought, and, with an impatient scowl, he took 
 the receiver from its hook. 
 
 "Well," he asked. "What is it?" 
 
 Something in his tone of personal detachment 
 made Caryl catch her breath. Could the message 
 be for her? 
 
 "Yes," Delaine was saying, "I understand. 
 She's here. Hold the wire." Then he turned to 
 his stenographer. "Miss Marvin," he announced 
 coldly, "you are wanted on the 'phone. You can 
 sit here in my chair." 
 
 As he went out of the room, closing the door 
 behind him, Caryl had a swift sensation of dis- 
 .comfort mingled with relief. His deportment 
 seemed to imply that she might have something 
 to say that she did not wish him to hear, yet she 
 was glad that he was not to be present while she 
 talked with her unseen friend. She guessed at 
 once who had asked for her, but expressed sur- 
 prise when the voice at the other end of the wire 
 said: "Good morning! Guess who this is I" 
 
 "Why why Mr. I mean, why Ben," she 
 stammered, in well-feigned astonishment. "I 
 thought you were someone else." 
 
 She lowered her voice lest Kelley might be lis- 
 tening outside of the door as she herself would 
 do under similar circumstances.
 
 A Telephone Message 275 
 
 "I am sorry you could think of anybody except 
 me this morning," the voice went on reproach- 
 fully. "You, and you only, have been in my mind 
 since we parted. But, I say, girlie, I mustn't keep 
 you from work now. All I want to know is if I 
 can't see you to-day?" 
 
 Caryl's thoughts worked rapidly. Of course, 
 seeing him this evening was out of the question. 
 She must have that talk with Julia to-night. While 
 she hesitated Hadley spoke again : 
 
 "I remember you told me that I couldn't come 
 to that sad-looking joint where your sister insists 
 on living to get local color. But I thought you 
 might grant me an hour somewhere late this after- 
 noon." 
 
 Caryl's face was lighted by a smile of joy. 
 "Why, yes," she agreed. "I can spare you an 
 hour between four and five." 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed the man. "I'll meet you 
 just inside of the Fifty-ninth street gate of Central 
 Park at 4, and we'll have tea together at some 
 quiet place. How does that sound to you?" 
 
 "All right!" assented the girl. "There's some- 
 thing I want to speak to you about anyway." 
 
 "There are lots of things I want to talk to you 
 about," the man declared. "Wasn't I foxy to 
 hunt up old Delaine's number? He never guessed 
 who it was that was asking for you just now."
 
 276 The Two Sisters 
 
 "He mustn't guess," Caryl rejoined hurriedly. 
 u Good-by!" 
 
 "Good-by dear!" the man murmured, and at 
 the sound of his low tones the girl's face flushed 
 and her eyes shone with happiness. 
 
 "He loves me already!" she whispered as she 
 went back to her machine to wait for Delaine's 
 return. 
 
 The minutes ticked themselves slowly away, 
 and the waiting girl grew nervous. Did Delaine 
 suppose that she was talking all this time? When 
 ten minutes had passed she summoned courage to 
 knock at the door leading into the next room, 
 then, as Delaine called out "Come in !" she opened 
 the door softly and glanced in. The man sitting 
 there rose to his feet as he saw her. 
 
 "Excuse me," she faltered, "I thought that per- 
 haps you did not know that I had finished talking 
 on the telephone some time ago." 
 
 "I did not know," Delaine rejoined. 
 
 "I am sorry," the girl said awkwardly, "that 
 you should have been disturbed like this in your 
 dictation. I will tell Julia not to send me a mes- 
 sage by one of the clerks during working hours 
 again. I suppose," with an apologetic smile, "that 
 she could not get away from the counter herself 
 just then, and was foolishly anxious to know if 
 I was better."
 
 A Telephone Message 277 
 
 Her employer said nothing in reply to this 
 pseudo explanation. In his heart he was think- 
 ing, "that was not Somerdyke's voice thank 
 goodness! But it was no clerk from Baird's 
 either. And he delivered to my very uncandid 
 little stenographer no message from her sister!" 
 
 Caryl Marvin was at the place suggested by 
 Ben Hadley some minutes before he appeared. 
 Standing in the park gateway, the girl waited for 
 him, a frown of anxiety on her forehead. It 
 was already 4 o'clock. She did not want to place 
 herself in a position where Julia could question 
 her as to her whereabouts this afternoon, there- 
 fore she must be back in her room before her 
 sister returned from work. Yet she hated ta miss 
 a moment of pleasure with Hadley. 
 
 "Why stand looking exactly in the opposite di- 
 rection from that in which I might be expected 
 to come?" asked a gay voice behind her, and all 
 shadow vanished from the girl's face as she 
 turned and greeted the new arrival. 
 
 "I wasn't even thinking of you just then," she 
 averred. 
 
 "What were you thinking of?" he asked, lay- 
 ing his hand on her arm and leading her into the 
 park. "We'll walk for a little way over to 
 Fifth avenue and then take the 'bus down to a
 
 278 The Two Sisters . 
 
 certain tea room I have in mind so you can tell 
 me now what you were daring to think of while 
 I was hurrying toward you with all my thoughts 
 flying in your direction." 
 
 The girl laughed, then sighed. "Oh, well," 
 she replied, "if you insist on knowing, I was think- 
 ing of my sister." 
 
 "What about her?" 
 
 "Why I was wondering what I was to tell her 
 when she asks me the name of the person who 
 took me out last night. For she will ask it, of 
 course." 
 
 "She doesn't know yet?" the man queried 
 quickly. 
 
 Caryl shook her head. "Oh, no I didn't tell 
 her." There was a moment's silence. "She 
 thinks my employer is just about right," she ob- 
 served with apparent irrelevance. 
 
 "Oh, she does, does she?" the man remarked, 
 with a knowing smile. "I see!" 
 
 Even Caryl had the grace to feel vaguely un- 
 comfortable at the implication conveyed in his 
 tone. 
 
 "Oh," she hastened to explain, "I do not mean 
 that he has paid her any especial attention, only 
 he happens to be the one man she knows in New 
 York, and he has talked a lot of fatherly things 
 to me, at least he has tried to, about follow-
 
 A Telephone Message 279 
 
 ing my sister's advice, and I suppose Julia thinks 
 that as long as I am with him, and no other man, 
 I am safe." 
 
 She paused. "I hope you are," Hadley mut- 
 tered. 
 
 "I'm safe anywhere," Caryl declared with dig- 
 nity. "I'm no child, remember, though my sister 
 thinks I am. She worries so much about me that 
 I actually allowed her to believe that I was out 
 last night with some man and his sister. She got 
 the notion that I had met these people through 
 Mr. Somerdyke or Mr. Delaine, and that they 
 were people Mr. Delaine would approve of." 
 
 The man looked at her curiously. "How under 
 the sun did she get the idea that there was a girl 
 with you last night?" he queried. 
 
 "Goodness knows I" laughed Caryl. "I don't 
 know how she got it, unless she misunderstood 
 something that I said. But since the idea makes 
 her comfortable I've let her keep it." 
 
 "Good," murmured the man. After a pause 
 he continued : "When we get to the little tea shop 
 we'll talk this matter over and decide on our 
 modus operandi." 
 
 "Our what?" asked the girl, off her guard. 
 Then she flushed hotly as she appreciated that 
 Hadley had spoken in a foreign language and 
 that she had betrayed her ignorance of it. "I
 
 280 The Two Sisters 
 
 did not hear what you said," she stammered con- 
 fusedly. 
 
 "Oh, that's all right!" Hadley smiled. "I only 
 suggested that we talk this matter out over the 
 tea cups and decide what we'll tell fussy sister." 
 
 The tea room to which they went when they 
 left the Fifth avenue stage was a tiny place, and 
 there were few people there. Hadley did not 
 suggest that they have any drink stronger than 
 tea. He knew that he could not procure liquor 
 in this establishment, and was glad that this was 
 so, for he wanted to talk to his companion when 
 her mind was unclouded and calm. He must as- 
 certain just what she had led her sister to believe. 
 
 Caryl gave him the desired information glibly. 
 But she did not confess to him that the story with 
 which Julia had been duped had been a deliberate 
 falsehood. This Ben Hadley already suspected, 
 and he was shrewd enough to appreciate that a 
 girl who had such a vivid imagination and so lit- 
 tle regard for the truth as had Caryl Marvin 
 would be easily influenced by anyone who would 
 appeal to her love of luxury and to her insatiate 
 vanity. Knowing this, he did not hesitate to fall 
 in with her scheme for hoodwinking her sister 
 and Delaine. 
 
 "The trouble of it is," regretted the girl, "I
 
 A Telephone Message 281 
 
 don't know the names of any of Mr. Somerdyke's 
 friends and Julia has the notion that the people 
 I went with last night were people my employer 
 knew about. As long as the dear girl thinks that 
 she will not worry when" she stopped, and 
 Hadley gazed at her expectantly. 
 
 "When what?" he insisted. "Finish your sen- 
 tence, Caryl." 
 
 "I was going to say," admitted the girl, "when 
 I happened to be out with you if you should 
 ever ask me to go anywhere with you again," she 
 concluded coquettishly. 
 
 The man leaned across the little table, and, as 
 there was nobody near enough to see his action, 
 took the girl's hands in both of his. She did not 
 resist. 
 
 "If I should ask you !" he exclaimed. "Don't 
 you know I will ask you every chance I get?" 
 
 Caryl dropped her eyes. "I almost hope you 
 will," she confessed. 
 
 Still he held her hands. "Since I want you 
 just as often as you will honor me by meeting 
 me, won't you say that you hope I will ask you, 
 instead of that you almost hope so?" he urged. 
 
 Caryl lifted her eyes and gazed at him steadily 
 before speaking. Then she drew a long breath 
 of happiness. 
 
 "I hope sol" she said softly.
 
 282 The Two Sisters 
 
 There was a look of triumph on Ben Hadley's 
 handsome face. 
 
 "Fine!" he ejaculated, releasing her hands. 
 "Now see what you think of my plan. Since your 
 sister thinks the friend with whom you are going 
 out just now is a fellow with a sister, we must 
 think of some girl whom Somerdyke knows and 
 of whom Delaine has probably heard. I know 
 such a girl." 
 
 "Who is she?" Caryl queried. 
 
 "She is a Dora Redfield," Hadley said, drop- 
 ping his voice. "I met her only this afternoon 
 with Somerdyke, and as I stopped and spoke to 
 them Harry had to introduce me. From what I 
 hear, he's paying her very serious attention just 
 now. To tell the truth, I wouldn't wonder if 
 they're already engaged." 
 
 "Is she tall and slender, with big brown eyes 
 and a smiling kind of a mouth?" Caryl asked 
 quickly. 
 
 "She's all those things and then some!" the 
 man replied. "How did you know?" 
 
 "I've met her," said Caryl briefly. A wave of 
 resentment swept over her, but she did not let 
 the man suspect what was passing through her 
 mind. He thought this girl pretty, too, did he? 
 Well, she should not catch him as she had caught
 
 A Telephone Message 283 
 
 Somerdyke not if Caryl Marvin could hold 
 him! 
 
 "Do you really know her?" she heard Hadley 
 asking, a note of surprise in his voice, a note 
 that would have piqued a prouder girl than Caryl. 
 
 "I did not say that I knew her," she corrected 
 him, rather tartly "only that I had met her." 
 
 "Oh, I see," rejoined Hadley. "Well, what I 
 was about to say is that I happen to know that 
 this Miss Redfield has a brother, and that it was 
 through him that Somerdyke became acquainted 
 with this girl. The point is that Delaine probably 
 knows that this girl has a brother, since Somer- 
 dyke must have spoken of him. Now, why not 
 tell your sister that John Redfield and his sister 
 are asking you here, there and everywhere?" 
 
 "But," Caryl hesitated, "suppose she finds out 
 that they are not?" 
 
 "How could she find out?" Hadley evaded. 
 "Were she to ask Delaine, he could say truly that 
 he does not know these people personally, but 
 that he is aware that Somerdyke has friends of 
 that name swells at that. His assurance as to 
 their good standing will satisfy your sister." 1 
 
 "Yes" the girl still hesitated "but if Mr. 
 Delaine should happen to ask Mr. Somer- 
 dyke " 
 
 "That's not likely," Hadley interrupted. "One
 
 284 The Two Sisters 
 
 man doesn't ask another man about the girl the 
 other fellow is paying especial attention to at 
 least men like Delaine don't. If he's like what 
 he was years ago, he's rather strict in his notions 
 of minding his own business. Besides, he doesn't 
 see Harry as often as he did. Harry's busy mak- 
 ing love and getting ready to go away." 
 
 "Is he going away?" asked Caryl, astonished. 
 
 "Sure he is, going down to South America 
 again, so has no time to waste on Delaine just 
 now. I'm to join him there later, but I'm not 
 starting as soon as he is." 
 
 There was a long pause before he spoke again, 
 his voice once more low and confidential. 
 
 "You see, as I am going before long, I want to 
 know you well, want to have you learn to care as 
 much for me as I do for you before I leave. That 
 is the reason we must throw your sister off the 
 scent, and let her believe the story we've planned. 
 If not, she may make our meetings hard per- 
 haps almost impossible." 
 
 "I see," agreed Caryl. Her thoughts were a 
 curious medley of resentment against Harry Som- 
 erdyke and the girl he loved, triumph at Hadley's 
 evident affection for herself, and wild hopes of a 
 speedy engagement and marriage. There was 
 one more point on which she wanted to be sure.
 
 A Telephone Message 285 
 
 "You must have lots of money," she ventured, 
 "to travel about the world as you like. It seems 
 wonderful to a girl who has to work for her liv- 
 ing." 
 
 The man laughed in a satisfied way. "Yes," 
 he acknowledged, "I guess that old wolf we hear 
 about won't get very near my door. But, child, I 
 work, too sometimes. My profession is that of 
 a mining engineer. That's one reason I'm going 
 down to South America. Somerdyke says there's 
 a big job there for me just now. Not that I want 
 the money especially for I have all that I really 
 need. But," with another laugh, "I'd not ob- 
 ject to having more than I need. Then I shall 
 travel and do as I please for the rest of my days." 
 
 The girl's head swam for a moment. She had 
 a mental picture of her mean room in a cheap 
 lodging-house, of her poor and scanty wardrobe, 
 of the plain fare that she and her sister ate 
 above all of the dull monotony of daily work. 
 How she hated work ! And this man had all the 
 money he needed, and expected soon to have so 
 much that he could do as he pleased all the rest 
 of his days! She almost laughed aloud in hys- 
 terical excitement as she thought what marriage 
 to him would mean travel, handsome clothes, a 
 beautiful place to live in, absolute freedom from
 
 286 The Two Sisters 
 
 drudgery. She sprang to her feet suddenly in 
 order to conceal her joyous agitation. 
 
 "I must be going!" she exclaimed. "I want to 
 get home by 6 o'clock before Julia returns." 
 
 The man glanced at his watch. "Come on, 
 then," he said. "You can get there easily on 
 time if I can find a taxicab out here in front." 
 
 "Oh, that's not necessary," Caryl began, but 
 he checked her. 
 
 "Do you suppose I'd let you walk, dear?" he 
 asked reprovingly. 
 
 Five minutes later, when he had put her into 
 a cab, paid the driver in advance and she was on 
 her way home, she leaned back with a long breath 
 of content. 
 
 "This is the way it will always be when I am 
 married to him!" she whispered.
 
 XXIV 
 
 "A LONG TALK" AND A RESOLUTION 
 
 HADLEY was right. Caryl Marvin reached 
 home ten minutes before Julia. The younger girl 
 saw a swift look of relief cross her sister's face 
 as she entered their room. 
 
 "Oh, Caryl, dear, I'm glad you're here!" she 
 cried. "I was pretty sure you would be." 
 
 "Oh, yes," Caryl rejoined cheerfully. "I'm 
 here all right. Why should I be anywhere else? 
 Where else is there to go?" 
 
 "To be sure," agreed Julia. "Yet as you were 
 out last night, and I missed you so much, I was 
 foolish enough to let myself think how forlorn 
 it would be for me if you were not in this 
 evening." 
 
 "You are very silly," Caryl said affectionately. 
 Crossing the room, she kissed her sister on the 
 cheek. "I wish you wouldn't worry so, Judy, but 
 would just be happy, too." 
 
 Julia gazed at her sister longingly, then, put- 
 ting her arms about her, drew her to her in a sud- 
 den passion of tenderness. 
 
 287
 
 288 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Oh, little sister, little sister!" she exclaimed, 
 "how can I help being silly about you? I don't 
 mean to annoy you, but I do love you, and when 
 you kiss me as you did then it seems as if you 
 loved me as I love you and it makes me so 
 glad!" 
 
 Caryl patted her sister's cheek reassuringly. 
 "Why, dear Judy," she cooed, "of course I love 
 you just as much as you love me, and I want you 
 to believe that I do. I know I am horrid and 
 cross sometimes, but I'm going to try to be nicer, 
 truly." 
 
 "And you're going to be careful, too, darling, 
 aren't you?" asked Julia anxiously. 
 
 Caryl pulled herself away with a little laugh. 
 "Well, from the present looks of things, I won't 
 have much chance to be anything but careful," 
 she remarked. "Mr. Somerdyke the man that 
 met me, you remember once at Delaine's studio 
 and took me to lunch and for an auto ride has 
 gone or is going to South America; so the only 
 man I can go anywhere with has a sister who 
 goes along with us." 
 
 "Will you tell me about those people, Caryl?" 
 Julia asked timidly. 
 
 "Of course I will," Caryl agreed, "but not 
 until after we have come back from dinner. I 
 want to have a good long talk with you then."
 
 A Long Talk 289 
 
 The "good long talk" left Julia Marvin more 
 at peace and almost happy. To be sure, Caryl 
 had prefaced her confidences with the request that 
 Julia say nothing to anybody "even to Mr. De- 
 laine," she had added with some acerbity about 
 the fact that Somerdyke was in love with Dora 
 Redfield. 
 
 "She has taken a fancy to me," Caryl said, 
 "and but for that she might not have told me as 
 much as she did of Somerdyke's attentions to her. 
 Naturally, she did not say that they were engaged, 
 or ever would be, but after she had told me of 
 what a nice 'fellow Harry was and lots of other 
 things in which I did not really agree with her, 
 although she did not suspect that she ended by 
 saying: 'I know you will not repeat to anybody 
 what I have told you.' And I wouldn't, Judy, 
 to anyone but you, but I know you are safe." 
 
 "Thank you, dear," Julia responded. "You 
 know I won't betray any of your confidences." 
 
 Thus assured, Caryl continued her improvisa- 
 tions, telling her sister that on the day on which 
 she had lunched with Somerdyke he had asked 
 "the two Redfields" to join them. A sudden lik- 
 ing and friendship had sprung up between the 
 brother and sister and Caryl. 
 
 "I think," Caryl said after a while, glancing
 
 290 The Two Sisters 
 
 shyly at her sister, "that John Redfield likes me 
 very much already. I have not told you, Judy, 
 every time I have met him and Dora, for I en- 
 joyed meeting them so much, and I was afraid 
 you might disapprove and and I like him, 
 and, perhaps some time when I see him alone, 
 he may tell me that he cares for me." 
 
 Julia laid a tender hand on her sister's shoul- 
 der. "If that time comes, dear," she said, "you 
 will tell me won't you?" 
 
 Caryl nodded. "All right," she promised, "and 
 until then don't ask me any questions will 
 you?" 
 
 A sudden sense of uneasiness assailed Julia. 
 "But you don't know anything about this man's 
 position or character, do you, dear?" she ob- 
 jected. "I wish you did." 
 
 Caryl tossed her head in swift anger. "Oh, 
 Judy !" she exclaimed. "Nobody can please you ! 
 Is it not enough that I assure you that these are 
 nice people? Here," as if struck by an urgent 
 thought, "there's something that I insist on your 
 doing! I have made you promise not to tell the 
 facts to Delaine but write him a line, requesting 
 him to answer you at once, and ask him if he 
 knows of a man by the name of John Redfield, 
 and whether he considers him respectable!"
 
 A Long Talk 291 
 
 "Oh, Caryl I" protested Julia. "I can't do 
 that!" 
 
 "Well, I'll write it for you then," the younger 
 girl declared, carried out of herself by wrathful 
 excitement. Hurrying to the table she seized a 
 pen and began to write. In a moment she tossed 
 a sheet of paper over to her sister. 
 
 "There," she exclaimed, "can't you copy that 
 and sign your name to it?" 
 
 Julia read the unsteady words slowly. "My 
 dear Mr. Delaine," they ran, "may I ask you to 
 tell me if you know of a man named John Red- 
 field, a friend of Mr.. Somerdyke's, and if you 
 consider him a trustworthy, respectable person?" 
 
 "Now," commanded Caryl, "copy that and 
 send it, and then, perhaps, when you get that 
 man's answer, you'll believe your own sister!" 
 
 Her manner, her look of outraged innocence, 
 had a powerful effect upon the older girl. 
 
 "Oh, Caryl," she begged in an outburst of 
 penitence and of magnanimity, the tears rushing 
 to her eyes "forgive me ! I see now that every- 
 thing's all right! There's no need of my writing 
 this letter, darling. Forgive me! I do trust 
 you!" 
 
 "I think it's about time that you did," said 
 Caryl coldly. "But if you care so much for De- 
 laine that you have more faith in him than in me
 
 292 The Two Sisters 
 
 just write to him at once. If you don't, please 
 try to treat me a little more fairly in the future." 
 
 A letter came for Julia Marvin by the early 
 morning mail. She read it as she ate her frugal 
 breakfast of rolls and coffee. Its contents brought 
 a glow to her cheeks, and made the dull routine 
 of the working-day before her seem bright. 
 Caryl was still asleep, or she might have guessed 
 from her sister's happy look who was the author 
 of the epistle. 
 
 "Dear Miss Marvin," Delaine wrote, "ages 
 and aeons have dragged by since I saw you last. 
 Personally, when I have a friend, I feel that I 
 have a right to see him or her every few days, 
 and I dare to hope that you will sympathize with 
 my attitude sufficiently to grant me a half-hour's 
 chat this afternoon. Won't you change the grub- 
 by little park into an oasis, by meeting me there 
 by the same old bench at the same old time? I 
 shall pray to Allah for clear weather, but, if it 
 rains, prepare to be kidnapped again. 
 "Faithfully, 
 
 "KELLEY DELAINE." 
 
 He was waiting for her when she entered the 
 park late that afternoon, and the girl forgot her 
 aching feet and tired back as he took her hand 
 in his firm grasp.
 
 A Long Talk 293 
 
 "Thank you for coming," he said. "You look 
 tired, and I don't like that. It's rather late for 
 afternoon tea, but all the same you and I are go- 
 ing across the street to that neat little restaurant 
 and get some. I shan't listen to any protests from 
 your New England conscience, so come peaceably, 
 unless you want me to be disagreeable." 
 
 Heedless of her feeble remonstrances he guided 
 her toward the restaurant. When they were 
 seated at a small white table he drew a sigh of 
 relief. 
 
 "There!" he exclaimed triumphantly, "I've 
 been plotting this for twenty-four hours, and I'm 
 proud of my success in accomplishing my pur- 
 pose." 
 
 "Do you always get what you want?" the girl 
 asked later with a smile, as they sipped their 
 tea. 
 
 "No," he answered seriously. "If I did I 
 would make you stop work, and would send you 
 away to a big farm my uncle has up in Connecti- 
 cut, and you should live out in the autumn fields 
 twelve hours a day and sleep the other twelve. 
 You don't look a bit well, Miss Marvin. What's 
 the matter? Is anything worrying you?" 
 
 "Nothing more than usual," she answered, with 
 affected lightness. But he detected the reserve in
 
 294 The Two Sisters 
 
 her tone, and looked at her keenly before speak- 
 ing again. 
 
 "I don't want to intrude," he said at last, "but 
 if there's anything that I could do to help you, 
 you aren't playing fair if you don't let me know. 
 Perhaps you are tired of hearing me make that 
 statement, but I mean it." 
 
 "There's really nothing unusual the matter," 
 Julia insisted, "except that as I told you the 
 other day I can't help feeling uneasy about my 
 little sister, and perhaps that is foolish of me." 
 
 "Has Somerdyke " Delaine began, but she 
 
 interrupted him. 
 
 "No, it isn't Mr. Somerdyke," she assured him. 
 "Caryl's new friend is a Miss Dora Redfield. Do 
 you know her?" 
 
 "I know her quite well," Delaine replied. "She 
 and Somerdyke are engaged, I believe." 
 
 "Indeed!" returned Julia. She was astonished 
 at his possession of information that Caryl had 
 begged her to keep from him. "Miss Redfield 
 has taken a fancy to Caryl," she added. 
 
 There was a moment's silence. "Ah!" the 
 man breathed. Then, as the girl did not speak, 
 he said: "Go on with what you were saying. 
 What's the matter?" 
 
 "You looked startled," Julia accused.
 
 A Long Talk 295 
 
 "Did I?" the man evaded. "I did not mean 
 to." 
 
 "Well, Miss Redfield," continued the girl, "has 
 taken a fancy to Caryl, as I just said, and so has 
 her brother. Do you know him, too?" 
 
 "Yes, I know him very well," the man replied. 
 
 "Mr. Redfield has been quite attentive to my 
 sister," Julia informed him. "Night before last 
 Caryl was out with him and his sister until quite 
 late. Is is Mr. Redfield the sort of a person 
 my sister would be safe with, Mr. Delaine?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Delaine. He comforted him- 
 self with the conviction that his face did not re- 
 flect his amazement. For he had seen John Red- 
 field sail for Europe two weeks ago. 
 
 "I am glad you know that he is all right," Julia 
 observed innocently. "As long as you consider 
 him a gentleman I shall not be uneasy any more." 
 
 "No," Delaine repeated mechanically, "don't 
 be uneasy." 
 
 The abstracted look that had come to his face 
 when John Redfield was first mentioned remained, 
 but he said nothing more of Caryl or her new 
 acquaintances, and was his usual bright, attractive 
 self throughout their stay in the little restaurant 
 and on their way to Mrs. Halloran's house, to 
 which place he insisted on escorting his com- 
 panion.
 
 296 The Two Sisters 
 
 At the lodging-house door Julia held out her 
 hand. "Thank you, Mr. Delaine," she said sim- 
 ply, as he returned her cordial hand-clasp. "You 
 have given me the pleasantest hour I have had 
 since I came to New York. It is good to feel 
 there is someone to whom I can talk things out." 
 
 Delaine flushed happily, but there was only 
 frank friendship in his eyes as he answered her. 
 
 "It makes me very glad to think that you are 
 willing to confide in me, Miss Marvin," he re- 
 joined. "Good-by, and please let me see you 
 again soon." 
 
 Something besides mere friendship dimmed his 
 eyes as he walked away. 
 
 "Poor little girl," he muttered. "Poor, brave 
 little girl!" 
 
 Caryl was standing before the mirror remov- 
 ing her hat as Julia entered the room. 
 
 "Where have you been, little sister?" Julia 
 asked affectionately. "Out with the Redfields?" 
 
 "Yes," Caryl answered steadily, "out for a 
 drive in the park with the Redfields." 
 
 For a week she enjoyed the freedom from sis- 
 terly surveillance resulting from her story of her 
 intimacy with Dora Redfield and her brother. 
 Twice she went to the theater with Hadley, return- 
 ing late at night to find Julia awake and sympa-
 
 A Long Talk 297 
 
 thetically eager to listen to the girl's account of 
 her happy evening. The older girl did not know, 
 however, that her sister spent every afternoon in 
 the company of her new admirer. Caryl was 
 aware that Ben Hadley's dominion over her in- 
 creased daily, but she did not resist his influence. 
 She enjoyed too much the pleasures the man's 
 money supplied and the specious compliments he 
 poured into her eager ears, to wish to break away 
 from him. 
 
 Reassured by the remembrance that Delaine 
 had vouched for the good character of John Red- 
 field, Julia uttered no actual protest against her 
 little sister's numerous engagements. Once the 
 older girl suggested timidly that it seemed a little 
 strange that Miss Redfield had never asked to be 
 allowed to meet Caryl's sister, but Caryl answered 
 impatiently. 
 
 "Well, really, Julia," she declared, "I can't 
 ask her to come here to meet you, can I? And 
 I don't see how I can get her to invite you to go 
 any place with us unless she thinks herself of do- 
 ing so. So don't blame me, please!" And Julia 
 said no more. 
 
 In her working hours Caryl noticed a change 
 in her employer's manner, and was puzzled by it. 
 Delaine looked at her steadily and thoughtfully at 
 times, and spoke to her in a way that made her feel
 
 298 The Two Sisters 
 
 uncomfortable and vaguely guilty. The author 
 had been worried by the story Julia had told him 
 of Caryl's new friends, and he was driven to a 
 state of helpless exasperation by the knowledge 
 that his hands were virtually tied so far as 
 straightening out the tangle was concerned. To 
 be sure he had sought out Harry Somerdyke, his 
 mind full of a volley of accusations which he in- 
 tended to hurl at him, but that gentleman had dis- 
 armed him completely by professing absolute ig- 
 norance of what Caryl was doing. Delaine dis- 
 creetly withheld from his friend any mention of 
 the Redfields in this connection. 
 
 "Hang it all, Kelley," Somerdyke said re- 
 proachfully, "you seem to forget that I am not a 
 cad, and that I consider a promise a promise. I 
 have left Miss Caryl Marvin alone ever since our 
 frank talk about her. Besides, you know enough 
 of my affairs to realize that I have no time nor 
 inclination to chase around with a shallow-pated 
 little stenographer. But why you should worry 
 about her beats me. You aren't her guardian, 
 and she's only following in the path that lots of 
 silly girls of her stamp take. Forget it, my boy, 
 and don't try to reform all humanity." 
 
 Delaine left him, irritated and chagrined, yet 
 believing that Somerdyke was telling the truth, 
 and relieved that his friend was not implicated in
 
 A Long Talk 299 
 
 what promised to be a disagreeable affair. Kel- 
 ley was asking himself the question that Julia had 
 put to her troubled mind days ago, namely : Why 
 was Caryl taking such pains to practise deception? 
 What was she doing that demanded a covering of 
 falsehoods? 
 
 In the hope of reassuring himself and calming 
 his fear that sorrow threatened the woman he 
 loved, Delaine met Julia Marvin again one even- 
 ing as she walked home from work, and noted 
 with a pang how innocently she chatted of Dora 
 and John Redfield "your friends," she called 
 them and of their kindness to her sister. It 
 was after this interview that a resolution took 
 shape in the author's mind. He spent several 
 hours seated in front of his fireplace, smoking 
 more tobacco than was good for him, in coming 
 to a final decision. There was only one way to 
 untangle the problem. He would speak to Caryl 
 herself. He would appeal to her, in a kind, broth- 
 erly way, and try to make her see that she was 
 not fair to her sister, and that she was, perhaps, 
 running into dangers of which she knew nothing. 
 
 She might listen to him. If she did not, there 
 was just one thing left to do. He would have to 
 tell Julia the truth. He would antagonize Caryl 
 before he would do this, in fact, would put him- 
 self to much inconvenience rather than distress
 
 30O The Two Sisters 
 
 the woman he loved by having her suspect that all 
 was not as it should be with her little sister. 
 
 It was late at night when Kelley Delaine 
 reached this point in his cogitations, and he deter- 
 mined to put his resolutions into effect as soon as 
 practicable.
 
 XXV 
 
 DELAINE SPEAKS HIS MIND 
 
 CARYL MARVIN awoke and yawned sleepily. 
 She had made no positive engagement with Had- 
 ley for the day or evening, and the prospect de- 
 pressed her. While she was dressing, however, 
 Mrs. Halloran slipped a letter under her door, 
 and her depression vanished as she read it. It 
 was in Hadley's handwriting, and contained a 
 plea, accompanied by endearing epithets, that she 
 meet him at noon in front of the building in which 
 were Delaine's rooms. The girl giggled as she 
 saw that the letter was signed "Dora Redfield." 
 Ben was so clever! 
 
 She warmed over the coffee that Julia had left 
 in the pot, for it was too much trouble to brew 
 fresh, and ate her breakfast in her wrapper. 
 Then she rose, with another yawn, to complete her 
 toilette. As she was brushing her hair in front of 
 the mirror a scribbled note from Julia caught her 
 eye. 
 
 "Dear little sister," it ran, "I have set the 
 
 301
 
 302 The Two Sisters 
 
 alarm-clock at the hour at which you should get 
 up to get to Mr. Delaine's on time. I do not want 
 to wake you when I go out, for you looked so 
 tired last night and got in so late. I know you 
 must be weary going out so much. Dear, would 
 you mind making no more engagements for this 
 week? Your pale cheeks make me anxious each 
 morning. Take care of yourself to-day, dear lit- 
 tle girl. If you would not mind perhaps you and 
 I can go for a little 'bus ride to-night. 
 
 "JULIA." 
 
 " 'Bus ride !" sniffed Caryl contemptuously. "I 
 wonder what she'd say if she knew of the trip I 
 took yesterday with Ben." 
 
 She had to hurry to finish her toilette, and she 
 was flushed and very pretty when she reached De- 
 laine's apartment. The author opened the door 
 for her himself. His manner was polite, but he 
 did not smile. He followed her into the study, 
 and stood by the window, gazing out, while she 
 took off her hat and coat. Then he turned toward 
 her and cleared his throat nervously. 
 
 "Ah Miss Marvin," he said, "there is some- 
 thing I want to speak to you about before we be- 
 gin our work this morning." 
 
 At her employer's grave tone Caryl turned 
 with a start, and the vivid color left her face. De-
 
 Delaine Speaks His Mind 303 
 
 laine, noting this, was conscious of a slight shock. 
 Why, if she had no sensation of guilt, should she 
 look so frightened at his remark about wishing to 
 talk with her before beginning work? 
 
 "Sit down," he said gently, and, as she dropped 
 down upon the divan, he drew a cha'ir opposite 
 her. He felt, he told himself, as a young dentist 
 must feel the first time he attempts to pull a double 
 back tooth, and without the use of gas. 
 
 "Don't look so startled, Miss Marvin," he pro- 
 tested, and was relieved when the girl laughed, 
 although the laugh was a nervous one. 
 
 "Do I look startled?" she parried. "How silly 
 of me! I am not the least bit afraid of you." 
 
 Her color was returning and her coquettish 
 manner was reasserting itself. There was also 
 creeping into her eyes an expression of defiance. 
 
 "The matter I want to talk to you about," the 
 man began, "is one that is puzzling me quite a bit. 
 I have a friend, whose name you may have heard, 
 John Redfield." 
 
 The girl did not flinch, although her lips seemed 
 to stiffen, as she repeated: "John Redfield is he 
 a friend of yours?" 
 
 "Yes, he is," asserted Delaine. "A few days 
 ago I heard that he was paying you attention. I 
 know this is not so. Can you tell me how the 
 story originated?"
 
 304 The Two Sisters 
 
 "How should I know?" faltered Caryl, her eyes 
 falling before his keen gaze. 
 
 "As you are the person whose name is con- 
 nected with his I thought you might be able to 
 solve the mystery. I think you can, if you will." 
 
 "Why?" asked the girl. Then the look of de- 
 fiance in her eyes changed to a hard gleam. 
 "Why?" she repeated, and Delaine saw that her 
 temper was coming to her aid. "I am in your 
 employ for a certain number of hours a day. 
 Have you any right to my time after that?" 
 
 "Absolutely none," the man rejoined calmly. 
 "It is not only you that I was considering in inter- 
 rogating you, though I acknowledge that I think it 
 is the duty of any man to protect the girl in his 
 employ, if he can do so unless she resents his in- 
 terest in her as you evidently resent mine." 
 
 "If I resent it why do you pry into this matter? 
 It concerns me, and me only." 
 
 "I beg your pardon," Delaine corrected, "it 
 concerns others than yourself. But, before we go 
 into that, I would ask you please to regard me as 
 a friend for a few moments, and believe that I 
 would like to save you from the consequences of 
 your mistakes mistakes of ignorance, I am sure, 
 and not of any evil intention." 
 
 "I am not aware that I have made any mis- 
 takes," Caryl objected. "Moreover, neither you
 
 Delaine Speaks His Mind 305 
 
 nor anyone else knows my business what I have 
 done or left undone." 
 
 "Some people know what you have said, 
 though," Delaine remarked slowly. 
 
 Something in his tone made the girl look at 
 him searchingly. "What do you mean?" she 
 demanded. 
 
 "I mean that you have said that you have been 
 receiving attention from John Redfield." 
 
 Caryl sprang to her feet in an outburst of 
 rage. "Ah!" she exclaimed, "so Julia has been 
 talking to you, has she?" 
 
 "Did you not give her permission to mention 
 Redfield to me?" asked Delaine. "I understood 
 her to say so." 
 
 "Yes, I did," acknowledged Caryl wrathfully, 
 "because I knew that she would take your word 
 rather than mine. But" with a stamp of her 
 foot "what business is all this of yours? What 
 right have you to meddle in this matter?" 
 
 "If you will sit down and listen quietly, Miss 
 Marvin, I will talk frankly to you," Delaine said. 
 And, as she dropped down upon the divan again, 
 he continued. "I have the right that a friend has 
 to help the woman who trusts him. I am your 
 sister's friend." 
 
 Caryl shrugged her shoulders. "Is that all?" 
 she sneered.
 
 306 The Two Sisters 
 
 A sudden solemnity came into the man's face 
 and manner, and even the excited and heedless 
 girl was impressed by it. 
 
 "Unfortunately," he said, "that is all. Since 
 you in spite of your carelessness of her wishes 
 must love your sister, I will tell you what I have 
 told nobody else. I love your sister more than 
 I have ever loved any other human being. I 
 am not fit to be her servant, but I am going to 
 ask her to marry me." 
 
 Caryl gasped. She could not doubt her com- 
 panion's sincerity. 
 
 "You want to marry Judy!" she exclaimed. 
 Then, under her breath she muttered, "she always 
 gets what she wants." 
 
 Delaine heard the words and smiled sadly. 
 
 "She certainly does not 'want' me," he returned. 
 "I wish to God she did. I doubt if she would 
 have me as a free gift. But all this is beside the 
 question. As nearly as I can understand, Miss 
 Julia Marvin has missed many of the things that 
 other girls desire and get such as a happy home, 
 love of family, somebody to look after her. She 
 has worked hard and steadily ever since she left 
 her father's home, and while she lived there I 
 fancy her life was not one of ease. I judge of all 
 these things, not from what she has told me so
 
 Delaine Speaks His Mind 307 
 
 much as from the things she has not told me. She 
 never complains." 
 
 He paused, and it seemed that he was waiting 
 to hear some expression that would prove that his 
 listener appreciated the truth of what he was 
 saying, but she remained silent. 
 
 "Miss Julia Marvin has just one person to 
 love, and that is you, her little sister," he contin- 
 ued. "And it is for her sake, you see, that I want 
 to win your confidence. Won't you," he urged, 
 "tell me the truth now, child?" 
 
 Caryl had been so much astonished at Delaine's 
 frank admission of love for her sister that for the 
 moment she forgot her own especial grievance 
 against him and answered meekly: 
 
 "What do you want to know?" 
 
 "I want to ask you why you have told your sis- 
 ter that John Redfield has been taking you to din- 
 ner, to the theater, and so forth. Another thing 
 that gives me the right to ask is that John Red- 
 field is my friend, as I have already told you. 
 Why have you used his name and his sister's?" 
 
 The girl flushed hotly. "Why shouldn't I, if I 
 want to?" she returned. 
 
 "Because it is dangerous to tell what is not 
 true," the man reminded her. 
 
 "You mean," said Caryl, "that I have told my 
 sister that I knew Dora Redfield well? Yes, I
 
 3o8 The Two Sisters 
 
 told Judy that, because I knew she would worry 
 less than if she thought I went out alone with 
 a man." 
 
 "With what man?" asked Delaine, his eyes 
 fixed upon her. 
 
 Caryl twisted uncomfortably. She felt almost 
 as if she were being hypnotized, and she heard 
 herself saying, "John Redfield, of course." 
 
 "Why did you say John Redfield was paying 
 you attention?" insisted Delaine. 
 
 Suddenly the girl's wrath burst forth again, 
 sweeping away her temporary submission. 
 
 "What business is that of yours?" she retorted 
 angrily. 
 
 Delaine sighed with forced patience. "We 
 have gone over all this ground already," he re- 
 marked, "but I will tell you again that John 
 Redfield is my friend." 
 
 His unmoved manner irritated the girl almost 
 to frenzy. She sprang up, and stood facing him. 
 
 "Your friend!" she ejaculated angrily. "You 
 mean, I suppose, that you have to protect your 
 friend against me that I am not good enough to 
 associate with him ! Well, I will go with him 
 where I please, understand? You can tell Judy 
 this, if you wish!" She tossed her head, and 
 glared at him defiantly. "You have to protect 
 him against me, eh!" she reiterated.
 
 Delaine Speaks His Mind 309 
 
 Delaine had risen, too, and now caught her by 
 the wrists. 
 
 "Be quiet!" he ordered in a low, tense tone. 
 "No, I am not trying to protect my friend against 
 you, but against your falsehoods. I did not mean 
 to say this, I did not mean to seem brutal, but you 
 force me to it. You have spoken out your 
 thought. Now I shall speak out mine. You are 
 using John Redfield's name to shield someone 
 else." 
 
 "That's a lie !" she exclaimed. Then, with a 
 desire to gain time : "Ask John Redfield himself, 
 if you dare, and see how he stands your interfer- 
 ence!" 
 
 Delaine took his hands from her wrists. "I can 
 scarcely do that, you see," he said, "for John Red- 
 field started for Europe nearly a month ago." 
 
 She shrank back with a low exclamation of 
 dismay, sinking down on the divan and burying 
 her face in her hands. Kelley Delaine was a 
 strong man, but the sight of suffering moved him 
 painfully. He felt for a moment as if forced to 
 watch the agony of some creature whom he must 
 wound in defense of someone he loved. He knew 
 that he had been just, but the thought of the pain 
 he had inflicted distressed him. He paused for 
 a moment, irresolute, looking at the girl. Then 
 he laid a gentle hand on the bowed head.
 
 310 The Two Sisters 
 
 "Child," he said softly, "child, it's not too late 
 to start fresh. We can straighten the matter out 
 yet, and we'll forget all about it. I'm going to 
 leave you alone now, until you get a little more 
 quiet. We all have done foolish things in our 
 lives, and have regretted them." 
 
 He stopped. He saw that she was listening, 
 and when she spoke he bent down to catch what 
 she said. 
 
 "Please leave me alone for a few minutes," 
 she murmured. "Please leave me alone!" 
 
 She heard him close the door softly behind him, 
 and she sprang again to her feet. She must think 
 quickly. He had found her out! That was the 
 agony not the thought of the lie itself, but only 
 that she had been discovered! 
 
 Fifteen minutes later Kelley Delaine returned, 
 looking as if nothing out of the ordinary had 
 happened. In his hand he bore a little tray, with 
 a plate of biscuit and two cups of steaming choco- 
 late upon it. 
 
 "I had an early breakfast," he explained, "and 
 I find myself a bit empty in consequence. So I 
 made Wang brew me some chocolate, and I 
 thought perhaps you would join me in a cup be- 
 fore we settle down to work."
 
 Delaine Speaks His Mind 311 
 
 He smiled and, pulling a small table forward, 
 put the tray upon it. 
 
 "Here are some little crackers, too," he said. 
 "Take some of these." 
 
 Soon Caryl Marvin was chatting as usual, an 
 occasional long-drawn breath being the only evi- 
 dence of her recent outburst. But, when Kelley 
 Delaine arose to ring for Wang to take out the 
 tray, she detained him, laying a light hand on his 
 arm. 
 
 "While I have the courage to speak of the mat- 
 ter I want to tell you that I am sorry that I lost 
 my temper," she pleaded. "Perhaps" looking 
 up into his face with wide eyes "you will forgive 
 me when I tell you how unhappy I am. For the 
 man who has been paying me attention and has 
 made me like him, told me and I believed him 
 that he was John Redfield." 
 
 Kelley Delaine was off his guard for the in- 
 stant, and started violently. 
 
 "The d scoundrel 1" he exclaimed. Then, 
 
 as he looked at the girl, a cold hand seemed to be 
 closing slowly about his heart. For he knew that 
 she lied. 
 
 It was not strange that the hours dragged in 
 Delaine's study after the conversation between 
 him and his stenographer. The author tried to
 
 312 The Two Sisters 
 
 keep his thoughts on his work, but before him 
 there arose visions of the woman he loved and his 
 heart ached at the futility of expecting her sister 
 to be truthful. Again and again came to his mind 
 the question: "What was Caryl Marvin hiding or 
 trying to hide?" 
 
 Yet, even while he distrusted Caryl, Kelley 
 Delaine was sorry for her when he noted how 
 her lips twitched and how nervous she was as 
 she attempted to take his dictation. At last, out 
 of sheer pity, he suggested that she would better 
 put in the rest of the morning in doing some copy- 
 ing for him. Then, handing her the first draft of 
 an article he had written, he left her alone, ex- 
 plaining that he had some business to attend to. 
 
 "Do not work later than twelve, Miss Marvin," 
 he said courteously. "There is no rush about 
 that stuff and to-morrow will be another day." 
 
 "Thank you," Caryl murmured. "I will, of 
 course, work steadily until twelve." 
 
 She kept on at her typewriting after she had 
 heard her employer close the front door behind 
 him. Might he not return and listen to see if she 
 was busy, or might he not order his servant to 
 spy upon her doings? Surely higher than one's 
 self can no man or woman think! 
 
 When the noon whistles blew Caryl closed her 
 machine with shaking hands. She did not remem-
 
 Delaine Speaks His Mind 313 
 
 ber that in all her life before she had ever been 
 as nervous as she was now. Kelley Delaine was, 
 she felt sure, determined to ferret out her affairs. 
 He had discovered that she had lied to Julia and 
 to him. While she tried to comfort herself with 
 the thought that perhaps she had thrown him off 
 the scent by telling him that the man from whom 
 she had accepted favors had posed to her as John 
 Redfield, it would be only a matter of a few 
 days, or a few hours, before Delaine would learn 
 by detective work who this man was and charge 
 him with masquerading under another person's 
 name. Then Hadley would possibly drop her. 
 She could not part from him now! He was go- 
 ing to marry her he had as good as asked her to 
 be his wife and now all her beautiful castles in 
 the air were likely to tumble down about her 
 ears. The only thing to do would be to tell Ben 
 as much as was prudent about this morning's con- 
 versation. She would let him know that Delaine 
 and Julia were determined to stop all communi- 
 cation between her and Hadley, that Delaine was 
 furious at the use of his friend's name, that, un- 
 less some way was found to evade him and Julia, 
 Caryl's father might be notified of her actions and 
 would probably descend upon her and carry her 
 off to his home. 
 
 The girl was so excited by the time her medita-
 
 314 The Two Sisters 
 
 tions had reached this point that the man waiting 
 for her outside of the studio building looked at 
 her in amazement as she hurried down the steps 
 toward him, her face pale, her eyes wide and 
 dark. 
 
 "Good heavens, girlie," he ejaculated, "what 
 is the matter?" 
 
 Caryl glanced cautiously about before replying. 
 The street was almost deserted at this noon hour, 
 and she spoke rapidly, clinging to his arm. 
 
 "Oh, Ben," she quavered, "Mr. Delaine and 
 my sister have found out everything! He is furi- 
 ous at you at me. He will tell my sister to keep 
 me away from you, to send for my father to take 
 me home, and, when John Redfield knows that 
 we have used his name and his sister's name 
 and when Somerdyke hears about it " 
 
 "Be quiet 1" Hadley ordered firmly, though not 
 roughly. "You are scared out of your wits, child. 
 Come where we can talk things out quietly, and" 
 he paused "act accordingly." 
 
 They had walked only a few feet when Hadley 
 hailed a cab and put the girl into it. 
 
 "Drive slowly up the avenue," he told the 
 cabman. "Now" seating himself beside Caryl 
 "tell me all about this business. What are you 
 afraid of?"
 
 Delaine Speaks His Mind 315 
 
 She caught her breath with a dry sob, as he 
 took her hand in his. 
 
 "What I'm most afraid of," she said tremu- 
 lously, "is that they will keep me from ever seeing 
 you any more." 
 
 A hard look came into the man's eyes, as he 
 listened to her story; then, when she clung to him 
 and repeated that she was afraid of never seeing 
 him again, he spoke gravely, almost sternly. 
 
 "See here, my girl, I usually get what I want, 
 and such cads as Delaine don't keep me from 
 getting it! See? All you've got to do is to fol- 
 low my orders. Will you promise to do that?" 
 
 "I promise," she said hopefully. 
 
 "Very well, then; listen to what I have to say, 
 for this is where / propose to do the talking and 
 acting I" 
 
 It was after five o'clock when Caryl Marvin 
 emerged from a large department store. Her 
 face was flushed, and all symptoms of fear and 
 distress had vanished. In her purse was a good 
 deal of change all that was left of a crisp new 
 bill that Hadley had handed her when he left 
 her at the end of their cab ride. She had used it 
 as he had directed, making sundry purchases, the 
 chief of which was a traveling suit and hat. But 
 the address to which she had ordered these arti-
 
 316 The Two Sisters 
 
 clcs sent was not Mrs. Halloran's lodging-house. 
 Now she glanced at the clock in front of the 
 store. 
 
 "I will go down to Baird's and walk home with 
 poor old Judy," she decided. Then she smiled. 
 "That will make it impossible for her to see De- 
 laine this afternoon, anyway. Moreover, I will 
 manage to keep an eye on her all of this evening, 
 too even if I do have to take such tame pleasure 
 as going on a 'bus ride. That will also make it 
 impossible for her to receive any message from 
 Delaine to-night. I will see that she gets no let- 
 ter, either. And all this will give me time to work 
 out my plans. I mean" flushing with joyous ex- 
 citement "Ben's plans!"
 
 XXVI 
 
 A DEPARTURE AND A RETURNING 
 
 JULIA looked up in pleased surprise as Caryl 
 approached the lace counter. 
 
 "Why, little sister," she exclaimed, "this is an 
 unexpected pleasure ! How sweet and pretty you 
 are looking," she added in such a low tone that 
 the other girls did not hear her. 
 
 Caryl smiled blandly. "I had nothing in par- 
 ticular to do," she remarked, "so I thought I'd 
 stop in and walk home with you." 
 
 "That's dear of you," returned Julia, and, as 
 the bell sounded for the closing hour, she hastened 
 to put away the few boxes that were on the 
 counter. 
 
 "Since your sister's waiting fpr you don't bother 
 to do that," Minnie Maibrunn urged good-na- 
 turedly. "Go along home. You do more than 
 your share of work, anyway." 
 
 Julia felt a glow of satisfaction, as she appre- 
 ciated how much kindness there was in the world, 
 and how nice the girls were to her. They actually
 
 3i8 The Two Sisters 
 
 seemed fond of her, she thought. And here was 
 her dear little sister, who loved her enough to 
 come all the way down to Baird's to walk home 
 with her. Yes, the world was a good place after 
 all! 
 
 She chatted of Caryl's work and of her own, 
 of the weather, of one thing and another, as she 
 and her sister walked homeward. She did not 
 confess to herself that underneath all the other 
 pleasant things that seemed to be happening to 
 her was the happy knowledge of Kelley Delaine's 
 friendship. She still called it this in her thoughts, 
 although she knew that it was something deeper 
 than mere "friendship." 
 
 "Oh, by the way, Judy," Caryl remarked, as 
 they entered their room, "I got your little note 
 this morning. You needn't have bothered to 
 write it, for I was going to spend the evening 
 with you anyway." 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed Julia. Here was another 
 pleasant happening. "I am so glad, dear, that 
 we are to have the evening together." 
 
 While Caryl was in the hall washing her hands 
 Julia's eyes fell upon the sheet of paper signed 
 "Dora Redfield," which her sister had left open 
 on the bureau that morning. It had been laid 
 there intentionally, in the hope that Julia, seeing 
 it, might believe the stenographer's story about
 
 A Departure 319 
 
 her imaginary friends. As Caryl returned to the 
 room Julia held the letter out to her. 
 
 "Dear," she said, "I did not mean to read your 
 correspondence, but I could not help seeing this 
 open sheet of paper, for it was right in front of 
 
 me." 
 
 "Oh, that's all right," Caryl responded indiffer- 
 ently, "read it, if you want to. I'd rather like you 
 to see what an affectionate little goose Dora Red- 
 field is." 
 
 "She writes a masculine kind of a hand," ob- 
 served Julia innocently, as she glanced over the 
 letter. "But lots of women do write like men 
 nowadays. Did you meet her, by the way, as 
 she suggested?" 
 
 "Yes," said Caryl, "I met her at noon-time, and 
 she took me out to luncheon ; then I went with her 
 while she did some shopping. When we parted 
 I came down for you." 
 
 "I see," rejoined Julia. Then the matter passed 
 from her mind. 
 
 Nor did it recur during the evening in which 
 she and Caryl went for a 'bus ride, although upon 
 their return the younger girl suddenly remem- 
 bered that she had a note to write. 
 
 "There's something I forgot to speak to Dora 
 about this afternoon," she remarked. "I'll just
 
 32O The Two Sisters 
 
 sit down here and scribble a line to her, then run 
 out to the corner and mail it." 
 
 "Why not wait and telephone her in the morn- 
 ing?" suggested Julia. "I hate to have you go 
 out alone as late as this. If I had not begun to 
 undress I'd go with you." 
 
 "Nonsense!" exclaimed Caryl. "What's go- 
 ing to hurt me? Dora Redfield leaves town to- 
 morrow, so I shall not see her again for a while, 
 and she may be gone before I could telephone her 
 in the morning." 
 
 "Is she going away?" queried Julia in astonish- 
 ment. Then she was ashamed of the stifled desire 
 that made her ask almost hopefully: "Is her 
 brother going, too?" 
 
 But Caryl, bending over her letter, seemed not 
 to hear. She had finished writing before she re- 
 plied. 
 
 "I believe he is going in a day or two. I may 
 possibly go out with him to-morrow evening if 
 you don't mind," she added submissively. 
 
 "Why, no, dear, I don't mind," Julia answered, 
 remembering with a throb of relief that Delaine 
 had said Redfield was all right. "But I'm sorry 
 his sister is going away." 
 
 Caryl was rereading her note, preparatory to 
 sealing it. Julia would have gasped in dismayed 
 astonishment could she have read over the writer's
 
 A Departure 321 
 
 shoulder. For the alleged "note to Dora Red- 
 field" was as follows: 
 
 "My dear Mr. Delaine: Do not be surprised 
 if I am not at your rooms to-morrow morning, for 
 I am half-ill to-night with a cold. If I am able to 
 be out in the morning I will come to work. If not 
 I will keep quiet in the house so that I can go to 
 work the next day. Julia begs me to do this. She 
 is sure that you will understand, and want me to 
 take care of my cold in the beginning so it don't 
 get worse. Yours truly, C. Marvin." 
 
 Julia was in bed when Caryl returned from 
 posting her letter. Usually it was the older sister 
 who was the poor sleeper, but to-night Caryl lay 
 wide awake, hour after hour. She was not anx- 
 ious, or ill, only too much excited and too happy to 
 close her eyes. She gave little thought to her 
 sister, and that thought held no compunction or 
 regret. She remembered Delaine's discovery of 
 her falsehoods; she also remembered his devotion 
 to Julia, and Julia's liking for him. Thinking on 
 these things she hardened her heart against her 
 two best friends. 
 
 And Julia, secure in the nearness and safety of 
 her little sister, slept on peacefully and dream- 
 lessly through all the hours of darkness, not awak- 
 ing until the alarm-clock summoned her to go to 
 her work. Then she got up, with a happy heart
 
 322 The Two Sisters 
 
 and an affectionate glance at the fair face on the 
 pillow next her own. 
 
 Caryl Marvin's letter to her employer was 
 brought to him as he sat at his eight o'clock break- 
 fast. He read it carelessly. He was not an- 
 noyed that his stenographer was not coming to 
 him to-day. In fact, he did not care to see her 
 just now. Of course he was sorry she was not 
 well, he told himself; then he forgot her in the 
 thoughts that had filled his mind ever since yes- 
 terday. They were all of Julia Marvin, his love 
 of her, his pity for her, his desire to protect her 
 and make her his wife. Over and over he asked 
 himself the question: Why not tell her all this? 
 
 Of course he appreciated the fact that he had 
 not known Julia long, but he had known her long 
 enough to love her. And she did not know him 
 well, but he would tell her anything about him- 
 self that she wished to ask. He had fallen far 
 short of the ideal man he wished to become to 
 be worthy of her, but he thanked heaven that he 
 had at least a decent and clean record. 
 
 Now that he had the morning to himself why 
 not write to Julia before he began work, although 
 he knew that he would not be able to fix his mind 
 on his work until he had learned his fate? Well, 
 then, work must wait! 
 
 It took him a long time to write his letter. Late
 
 A Departure 323 
 
 in the afternoon, in her own room, Julia read it 
 and re-read it. She was alone. When she had 
 started to work that morning Caryl not yet out 
 of bed had told her not to worry if she was 
 not at home early. 
 
 "John Redfield has invited me to dinner and 
 to a concert afterward," she explained drowsily, 
 "so don't expect me until you see me. I did not 
 sleep much last night, and I don't want to talk 
 now. Let me get another nap, please, Judy." 
 
 "All right, dear; good-by," Julia said softly, 
 bending over to kiss her. 
 
 "Good-by," was the sleepy response. 
 
 So when the older girl came home from work 
 she was not surprised to find the room empty. 
 For a while she was glad of her solitariness, as it 
 gave her an opportunity to think over all that Kel- 
 ley Delaine had written. 
 
 She thought of nothing else all the evening. 
 Her heart told her what to answer, but she 
 wished to consider all sides of the question. This 
 she had done when she seated herself at the table 
 at which Caryl had sat twenty-four hours earlier 
 to write her letter to the same man whom Julia 
 was now writing to. Julia's note was as brief as 
 Caryl's had been. 
 
 "I believe you implicitly," she wrote. "It 
 would be foolish and wicked were I to pretend
 
 324 The Two Sisters 
 
 now that I do not care for you. But I am not 
 clever or well educated, and am only a poor work- 
 ing-girl and you are all the things that I am not. 
 Still, you tell me to reply just what my heart dic- 
 tates, and to think of nothing else. If I obey you 
 in this matter my answer must be 'Yes'." 
 
 Then she, too, went to the street corner and 
 posted her letter, and, returning, was too wide 
 awake to think of sleep. Seating herself under 
 the gas-jet she tried to read. 
 
 Kelley Delaine dined at a restaurant that even- 
 ing, and it was nine o'clock when he returned to 
 his rooms. On his desk lay a letter in a hand- 
 writing which he recognized as his stenographer's. 
 What could she be writing to him about? he 
 wondered. Was it to say that her cold would 
 prevent her coming to-morrow? 
 
 He tore open the envelope indifferently, his 
 mind on the sister of the girl whose epistle he 
 held. Then, as his eyes took in the meaning of 
 the written words, he started violently. The sen- 
 tences before him had been written hurriedly, but 
 they stared at him with vicious meaning. 
 
 "When you get this," Caryl had .written, 
 "please notify my sister that I have gone away 
 to be married. I cannot stand being spied at and 
 interfered with. I love the man I am going with. 
 I am tired of work, tired of the kind of life I
 
 A Departure 325 
 
 have had to live. Indeed, I am tired of every- 
 body except this man. Julia will not miss me if 
 she has you. That is why I'm sending this to you. 
 She won't feel badly if you tell her about my plans. 
 
 "Caryl Marvin." 
 
 The petty spite contained in the words, the bit- 
 ter resentment, did not so much as touch the man 
 to whom they were addressed. Instead his one 
 emotion was a great sense of pity for the woman 
 he loved, who was even now waiting at home for 
 her little sister. How could he lessen this blow 
 for her? How could he spare her a night of 
 agonized anxiety? There was no telephone in 
 Mrs. Halloran's lodging-house. He could not 
 go there at this time in the evening and call on 
 her without exciting disagreeable comment. 
 There was but one course left him. He would 
 telegraph a quieting message. Then, to-morrow, 
 he would see Julia and tell her the truth. 
 
 Thus it came about that, as Julia Marvin sat 
 reading, Mrs. Halloran's agitated knock prefaced 
 her hurried entrance into her lodger's room. She 
 held a yellow envelope at arm's length. 
 
 "Sure, dear," she said gaspingly, "I hope it 
 don't carry no bad news!" 
 
 Julia hastily tore open the envelope, imaginings 
 of her father's possible illness or death rushing
 
 326 The Two Sisters 
 
 upon her. She read the message twice before she 
 spoke. 
 
 "That's all right, Mrs. Halloran," she said 
 then, "it's only a message from a friend of my 
 sister's and mine." 
 
 When she was alone again she repeated the 
 words over to herself in perplexity. 
 
 "Do not worry at your sister's absence over 
 night. I will explain it when I see you to-morrow 
 at six o'clock in the little park. Kelley Delaine" 
 
 It was characteristic of Julia's faith in the man 
 she had learned to love that no doubt as to his 
 fair-dealing penetrated her mind. 
 
 "I will try to do as he says," she muttered, "and 
 not worry, but where is Caryl? Perhaps, after 
 all, Dora Redfield decided not to leave town until 
 to-morrow, and Caryl is staying with her." 
 
 With which solution of the problem Julia Mar- 
 vin tried to be content. 
 
 Looking back over the days following Caryl's 
 disappearance her elopement, as Kelley Delaine 
 was careful to call it Julia always remembered 
 distinctly two things, her own anguish and her 
 lover's goodness. In telling her the awful truth 
 he had spoken briefly and compassionately. "She 
 has gone away to be married," he had said.
 
 A Departure 327 
 
 "To to John Redfield?" Julia asked quickly. 
 "He is a good man isn't he?" 
 
 Perhaps the hardest ordeal which Kelley De- 
 laine ever had to endure was telling Julia Marvin 
 that her sister had lied in giving John Redfield's 
 name as that of the man with whom she was in- 
 fatuated, and that, as yet, no trace of the girl or 
 her lover could be found. Julia tried to be brave, 
 but the terror and desolation that overwhelmed 
 her, as she thought of facing life in the store 
 and lodging-house now that Caryl was gone, made 
 her appreciate that Delaine was right in urging 
 her to go back to her father's house for a while. 
 She had a strange sense of unregretfully wasting 
 an opportunity when she gave up her position at 
 Baird's, but nothing made much difference to her 
 now except thoughts of Caryl and of Delaine. 
 She seemed for weeks to wander in a dream. 
 
 Her father was pathetically glad to see her. 
 He had aged within the past few months and wel- 
 comed her eagerly. When she told him of the 
 great sorrow that had come upon them, the old 
 man spoke no word of blame, and agreed unpro- 
 testingly to Julia's suggestion that her step-mother 
 be kept in ignorance of what had happened. 
 
 "It is enough for her to know that Caryl has 
 left New York to take a position in another city," 
 he said gravely. "Our secret and the family shame
 
 328 The Two Sisters 
 
 if shame there is are ours and ours alone, my 
 child." 
 
 Perhaps there was something in Julia's in- 
 creased gentleness or softened manner that les- 
 sened Mrs. Marvin's animosity toward her. So 
 tactfully and unobtrusively did the girl lift sundry 
 burdens from the wife's shoulders that she soon 
 was accepted by the masterful mistress of the 
 home as a not unpleasant addition to the house- 
 hold. 
 
 Meanwhile Kelley Delaine was leaving no stone 
 unturned to learn that which might lessen Julia's 
 anxiety. Somerdyke had sailed for South Amer- 
 ica. His engagement to Dora Redfield had been 
 announced just after his departure. To him De- 
 laine wrote, hoping that he could throw some light 
 on Caryl's conduct or tell him who her companion 
 was. When at last Somerdyke's reply came it 
 contained the information that the writer had in- 
 troduced Ben Hadley to Delaine's stenographer, 
 as Ben had asked for an introduction. 
 
 "If any trouble has come of it, I'm sorry," 
 Somerdyke wrote. "I supposed then that Hadley 
 was a very decent sort. I did not discover until 
 just before I left New York that he has a wife 
 and child down South somewhere." 
 
 Kelley Delaine, reading this, groaned. He had 
 promised Julia to tell her all that he learned.
 
 A Departure 329 
 
 Here was another blow for her. And the pros- 
 pect of his next visit to Springfield was shadowed 
 by the thought of the suffering of the woman who 
 would be watching and longing for his coming. 
 But he knew how brave and patient she would be, 
 and he loved her all the more for her silent 
 heroism. 
 
 In spite of sadness and complete absence of any 
 further information about Caryl, Julia found the 
 weeks and months slipping slowly away. At last 
 Spring came, and on the first of May she and 
 Kelley Delaine were quietly married by the old 
 minister who had baptized her. Then, with af- 
 fectionate words from her father and actual tears 
 from her step-mother, Julia set forth again to be- 
 gin a new life in New York. 
 
 Julia Delaine had been married for six months 
 when her husband came into their cosy living-room 
 one night, his face sad and pale. It was useless 
 to attempt to hide from his wife the knowledge 
 that he had heard some distressing news, for she 
 noted his changed countenance, and the fear that 
 was always in her mind sprang to her eyes as she 
 whispered, "Caryl?" 
 
 "Yes, dear," he said compassionately. "She is 
 in an uptown hospital. She is desperately ill and 
 gave my name when she appreciated that she could
 
 330 The Two Sisters 
 
 not get well. She said I was in communication 
 with her friends and would bring you to her. I 
 will take you to her at once, darling." 
 
 An hour later Julia stood in the public ward by 
 the screened bed on which lay her little sister. 
 The girl's eyes were closed, and the once round 
 face was so pinched and pale that one who had 
 not known Caryl Marvin intimately would scarcely 
 have recognized this wasted creature. The phy- 
 sician in attendance and the clergyman who had 
 been summoned to talk with the patient told Julia 
 and her husband what they knew about the case. 
 All that Caryl had suffered was known only by 
 herself and the man who had wrecked her life and 
 then cast it aside as a very little thing. An over- 
 whelming sense of the injustice of the world shook 
 Julia as she gazed on the altered face of the child 
 who had been her care and companion. 
 
 "Oh," whispered the wife, clinging to her hus- 
 band, "where is he the man this night? Com- 
 fortable, probably, while there is my little sister 
 paying with her life for his sin as well as for lier 
 own. It isn't fair!" 
 
 "Hush, darling!" cautioned Kelley. "See, she 
 is opening her eyes and looking at you." 
 
 Julia went forward swiftly and bent over the 
 bed. "Dear little girl!" she murmured. 
 
 Caryl eyed her wonderingly and tried to smile.
 
 A Departure 331 
 
 "Poor old Judy!" she breathed, "I did not know 
 you were here." 
 
 There was a moment's silence while the dying 
 girl gazed into the loving face bending over her. 
 Then her lips moved again. 
 
 "I did not mean to be bad, Judy," she whis- 
 pered. "Will you forgive me?" 
 
 The older sister dropped on her knees by the 
 bed and put her arms about the broken, dying 
 creature. "There is nothing for me to forgive, 
 darling," she sobbed. "You have paid, and God 
 forgives." 
 
 The girl smiled. "Yes," she murmured, "He 
 forgives." 
 
 The smile was still on the gray lips when the 
 nurse laid her hand gently on Julia's shoulder. 
 "Come away, Mrs. Delaine," she urged, "she is 
 asleep now." 
 
 "Yes, dear," Delaine added softly, "Caryl is 
 safe at last." 
 
 And Julia, looking at the peaceful face, re- 
 peated, "Yes, she is safe at last, thank God I" 
 
 On the morning of their first wedding anniver- 
 sary Julia and Kelley Delaine stood at their win- 
 dow looking out toward the park, where the trees 
 were bursting into bud. There had been a silence 
 between the pair as each thought what the day
 
 332 The Two Sisters 
 
 meant for them both. Julia was the first to speak. 
 
 "I am very happy, Kelley," she said, laying her 
 head on his shoulder. The man drew her to him 
 with a swift motion of tenderness. 
 
 "I am the happiest man in the world," he told 
 her, "and I love you better with each day that 
 passes." 
 
 His wife smiled, yet there were tears in her 
 eyes. "Thank you for telling me that, dear," she 
 murmured. 
 
 "Why, Julia," her husband protested, "you 
 knew it all already, didn't you, darling?" 
 
 "Of course, I did!" she acknowledged with a 
 happy laugh. "But, being a woman, I like to hear 
 you say it!" 
 
 THE END.
 
 '"*.. , 
 
 A 000035928