E TENTH 
 COMMANDMENT 
 
 A Romance 
 
 MARGUERITE 
 
 LINTON 
 GLENTWORTH
 
 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 A Romance
 
 THE 
 
 TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 a Uomanec 
 
 BY 
 
 MARGUERITE LINTON GLENTWORTH 
 
 AUTHOR OF "A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY" 
 
 " All the world's a stage, and all the men and women 
 merely players." SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD 
 1902
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY LEE AND SHEPARD. 
 
 ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL, LONDON. 
 
 Published, October, 1903. 
 
 All Rights Reserved. 
 
 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT. 
 
 Norfoooti $rs 
 
 J. 8. Chuhing & Co. Berwick & Smith 
 Norwood Mass. U.S.A.
 
 2C0 tfjc JHemorg of 
 
 Yet love will dream, and faith will trust, 
 Since He who knows our needs is just, 
 That somehow, somewhere, meet we must. 
 
 WHITTIER. 
 
 2135006
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A WORD OF YESTERDAY i 
 
 II. DRIFTING 6 
 
 III. ON THE SHORE OF BOHEMIA 16 
 
 IV. THE TURN OF THE TIDE .... 24 
 V. AN ALIEN IN BOHEMIA .... 33 
 
 VI. BREAKERS AHEAD 41 
 
 VII. THE STUDIO OF THE BARATTONIS . . 46 
 
 VIII. SlGNOR LONSPETTI 54 
 
 IX. HAD FATE DECREED .... 60 
 
 X. THE PAINTER-IN- LITTLE .... 70 
 
 XI. CHARITY 78 
 
 XII. MADAME MARIE 84 
 
 XIII. STARLIGHT ON SHORE .... 97 
 
 XIV. <l 'Tis BUT REMEMBRANCE" . . . 106 
 XV. A PLEA FOR THE FUTURE . . -113 
 
 XVI. ACROSS THE OCEAN FERRY . . .124 
 
 XVII. A SUMMER EVENING 129 
 
 XVIII. A RECOGNITION 135 
 
 XIX. TEMPEST TOSSED 143 
 
 XX. IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW . .154
 
 viii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGK 
 
 XXI. THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM . . 159 
 
 XXII. WHEN ANGELS ARE VEILED . 166 
 
 XXIII. CHAINS THAT GALL . . . -173 
 
 XXIV. THE DIE HAS BEEN CAST . . .185 
 
 XXV. HOUSES OF CARDS . . . . .195 
 
 XXVI. THE TENTH COMMANDMENT . . .205 
 XXVII. MR. COURTNEY IN LONDON . . . 216 
 
 XXVIII. EBB TIDE 221 
 
 XXIX. LIKE A SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT . . 226 
 
 XXX. ROSEMARY 241 
 
 XXXI. CROSSING THE BAR 251 
 
 XXXII. THE HARBOUR ENTRANCE . . . 258 
 
 XXXIII. WHEN ONLY THE ANGELS KNOW . . 267 
 
 XXXIV. THE HEART OF CONSUELO . . -275 
 XXXV. LONSPETTI'S HOUR . . . . . 284 
 
 XXXVI. THE TRUMP CARD 296 
 
 XXXVII. A SHIP HAS PUT TO SEA . . .301 
 
 XXXVIII. THE SEAL OF SILENCE .... 306 
 
 XXXIX. AN UNBIDDEN GUEST . . . -315 
 
 XL. A MEETING AND A PARTING . . . 325 
 
 XLI. IN SIGHT OF SHORE .... 336 
 
 XLII. UNTIL DEATH 344
 
 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 A WORD OF YESTERDAY 
 " All the world's a stage ..." 
 
 THE curtain came slowly down for the sixth 
 time that evening . . . and then slowly ascended 
 again. Edythe Barattoni was bidding farewell to 
 the stage. As many times the young actress had 
 bowed her acknowledgments. The farewell of 
 the public was full of regret The orchestra 
 played like one enchanted. The night seemed 
 reluctant to be gone. But it was almost over now, 
 and what a farewell night it had been from the 
 rise to the last fall of the curtain. Although the 
 young actress had been before the public but a 
 few seasons, her every effort had been crowned 
 with success. Like Byron before her, she awoke 
 the morning after her debut to find herself 
 famous. She was beautiful ; she was talented. 
 If there was any nervousness in her composition 
 she forgot it in the spirit of the part she was play-
 
 2 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 ing. That she was a genius, none doubted, and 
 to-night she was casting aside all honours, and 
 retiring ... to marry. 
 
 And what an audience this last one had been ! 
 The drawing-rooms of Fifth Avenue, Bohemia, 
 the Bench, and the Bar were represented like one 
 great family. It was a memorable night in the 
 history of the profession. 
 
 Two hours before the doors were opened, there 
 was a crowd extending a block or more waiting 
 for admission. Not a seat was to be had at the 
 box office, and when the doors were finally 
 opened, the crush was so great that it was almost 
 nine o'clock before those holding tickets for the 
 boxes and stalls could be seated. Even the car- 
 riages were unable to come up to the theatre, and 
 deposited their richly gowned occupants several 
 doors from the entrance. Geoffrey Merrall was 
 silently proud of it all, as he sat in the theatre 
 that night watching the great audience file in, and 
 yet he wished it were all over. 
 
 Since the announcement of his engagement to 
 her a few weeks since, the papers had exploited 
 them as their most interesting subjects. The 
 engagement of one of the wealthiest and most 
 aristocratic young men in New York society to
 
 A WORD OF YESTERDAY 3 
 
 the popular young actress was a subject that 
 linked Bohemia and the " four hundred " together. 
 On the announcement of her engagement, Miss 
 Barattoni had likewise announced an early retire- 
 ment from the stage. 
 
 And now the night had come, and was over. 
 The last words of the play had been said, and 
 the young actress, calmer than her audience, 
 had passed from the footlights. The play had 
 progressed well considering the curtain calls de- 
 manded after each act. Now that it was over, it 
 seemed as if there were to be no end of them. 
 The enthusiasm of the evening had developed into 
 a triumphant ovation. The greater part of the 
 audience was standing when Edythe Barattoni ap- 
 peared at the final curtain call, and her face 
 showed plainly that she was deeply affected. The 
 orchestra was playing " Dixie " in honour of her 
 native state, Kentucky. She lingered the last 
 time a moment longer, as if she, too, were reluc- 
 tant to say good-by ; then she smiled and was gone. 
 
 There were tears in her eyes, as the public last 
 saw her. Geoffrey Merrall noticed them and was 
 hurt at her visible reluctance to retire. And the 
 woman was thinking, " If I only knew that this 
 could last forever."
 
 4 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 She paused for a moment on the threshold of 
 her dressing-room. She could still hear the 
 orchestra above the din and confusion about her. 
 Stage hands were hoisting the scenery back into 
 place, call-boys with cards and flowers were hurry- 
 ing to and fro ; little groups of actresses lingered 
 about half-open doors. This was the life that 
 was a part of her; the life that she loved. In 
 the excitement that had attended the prepara- 
 tion for her farewell to the stage she had not 
 realized until now what she was giving up. 
 There is novelty, a glamour, connected with the 
 royal Game of Chance. As she pushed the door 
 of her dressing-room open, the fragrance of the 
 flowers stifled her for the moment. There were 
 the trophies of her last appearance 
 
 In her hand she held others. Her maid came 
 forward as she entered, and took them from her. 
 She had hardly done so, when a call-boy burdened 
 down with more flowers knocked at the door, left 
 them, and hurried away again. 
 
 Half an hour later the crowd about the stage 
 door were rewarded by seeing a long-watched door 
 flung recklessly open, a carriage come quickly to 
 the curb, and in the sudden glare of a calcium 
 light which blinded them for the moment, they
 
 A WORD OF YESTERDAY 5 
 
 saw a woman wrapped in a long white opera 
 cloak pass quickly out, followed by Mr. Merrall 
 and a maid, and before they had had time to 
 realize who they were, they had stepped into the 
 carriage and were being driven rapidly away.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 DRIFTING 
 
 IT was now nine years since Geoffrey Merrall 
 had married Edythe Barattoni. 
 
 It would prove an unhappy marriage, the 
 world said ; but then the world is old and 
 cynical, and with extreme youth or infirmity we 
 forgive much. 
 
 There had been some opposition on Mr. Mer- 
 rall' s side of the family, and only after their 
 first child a boy was born, did his proud 
 widowed mother enter their home. 
 
 Edythe was like a flower transplanted from 
 the world called Bohemia. She was as beautiful 
 as a Greek statue. Dame Fortune had bestowed 
 upon her every charm ; had endowed her with 
 unusual talents. She had everything in the 
 world to make her happy, and yet she was 
 not so. 
 
 Four children had been born to them, three 
 boys and a girl. The last child, a girl, was the 
 
 6
 
 DRIFTING 7 
 
 only thing that had brought Edythe a moment's 
 happiness, and when death took it from her, 
 Mr. Men-all's last ray of hope was gone. She 
 would sit in her studio day after day, cherish- 
 ing a little portrait of a six-months-old baby 
 girl. Callers were turned away on the plea 
 that she was ill; her husband's flowers were 
 cast aside, as might be withered weeds. When 
 she was better, she would drive up to her old 
 home in Eighty-sixth Street on pleasant after- 
 noons. The studio was still there, for her sisters 
 were both artists, though only one of the brush. 
 Sometimes she didn't return when night came. 
 She was happier there. She liked to welcome 
 the old friends, and hear of their progress in 
 the kindred arts. She never met there any 
 of the wealthy society people that she had had 
 to tolerate in her married life; but, rather, 
 sculptors, musicians, artists, authors, and actors, 
 the class that is largely composed of the Bohe- 
 mian element, which, in order to live in this 
 hand-to-hand world, must possess more than an 
 ordinary brilliancy of intellect" 
 
 Edythe's visits to the studio were welcomed 
 most heartily, and so heartfelt was the cordiality 
 from every one that it only rendered more bitter
 
 8 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 the home visits that she was loath to make. 
 Sometimes a week passed away before she would 
 consent to return, and then only for a day or two, 
 and she was back again. Mr. Men-all's pleadings 
 with her were of no avail. He was a splendid 
 young man ; he had made her an ideal husband. 
 Never once had he frowned upon her wildest 
 wish. He had never denied her anything, and 
 yet she was not happy. For nine years she 
 had been like a nightingale, beating at the 
 bars of a gilded cage. 
 
 When, after the child Dorothy's death, she 
 had refused to attend church, it did not keep 
 Mr. Merrall and his three boys away from a 
 Sunday morning service. And they were little 
 fellows : the eldest, Lionel, was but eight, Doug- 
 las six, and Maurice four. They seemed very 
 small to occupy the large pew up in front, 
 where every Sunday they were seen alone with 
 their father. Mr. Merrall was very proud of 
 them. They were all three strong, healthy little 
 fellows. Lionel was like his father, as straight 
 as a young Indian, with dark hair and eyes 
 and a fair complexion ; Douglas was a little like 
 his brother, only his hair was curlier and it was 
 not quite so dark. It was in the baby's face
 
 DRIFTING 9 
 
 that the beauty of the mother was seen. Maurice 
 might have been a girl, with his fairylike face. 
 No hair ever matched the sun better than his 
 did. He had unusually large, dark eyes, long, 
 black lashes, and his mother's faultless pink 
 and white complexion. He always wore, too, 
 the most fascinating of clothes clothes that 
 contrasted well with the wavy curls that sur- 
 rounded the baby face, like the frame of a 
 miniature. Their mother never attended to their 
 dressing. She took no interest in them appar- 
 ently. Mrs. Merrall, Sr., generally attended to 
 the children's shopping ; and as they were dressed 
 by a London costumer, it is needless to add 
 that they were well dressed. Edythe rarely 
 gave a suggestion. She sometimes said that too 
 much money was spent on their clothes, but 
 never once suggested any change. Mrs. Merrall, 
 Sr., was devoted to her grandchildren, and filled 
 to some extent the mother's place in their 
 home. Edythe was not interested in the house; 
 the servants might give nightly balls, and she 
 would not be the wiser. She was a brilliant 
 woman, an actress who at the time of her re- 
 tirement was destined to be a star of the first 
 magnitude. She had married when every wish
 
 10 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 of her heart was within her reach. No actress 
 of years had had such audiences as Edythe 
 Barattoni. Night after night the same faces 
 were in line at the box office. Her Juliet was 
 said to be the woman Shakespeare must have 
 dreamed of when he wrote his great love tragedy. 
 No one so beautiful as she had for many years 
 graced the mimic stage. And then she could 
 paint ; her genius held her with no restrictions. 
 She was a favoured child of art. And her art 
 was her great interest; to excel in it her one 
 ambition. She had not done much with it since 
 her marriage, more than to paint a fancy head 
 or landscape for her own amusement. The studio 
 was full of them, everywhere about her home 
 hung pictures of her own making. On this par- 
 ticular afternoon she was engaged on a child's 
 head. It appeared to the casual observer a 
 more mature likeness of her baby girl what it 
 would have been in life. The studio windows 
 were open, the curtains fluttered gently in and 
 out. There was a sweet perfume of white violets 
 in the room an utter stillness was everywhere. 
 Presently a child's step was heard, and Maurice, 
 breathless, his hat gone and dress in tatters, 
 came rushing into the room.
 
 DRIFTING 1 1 
 
 " Mamma," he cried, " ba' dog ! " and he 
 dragged her to him. "Maurice hurted, baby 
 dirl for you, mamma, turn ! " 
 
 Another moment and she would have had the 
 child in her arms. He had such an appealing 
 way when he wanted sympathy. His dress was 
 badly torn, and he kept running his wee fingers 
 through the long rents, with "See, mamma, ba' 
 dog, baby dirl, turn ! " 
 
 " Have you been hurt ? " she said at last, put- 
 ting down her work to follow him ; but her 
 sister's coming prevented it. 
 
 "We're going to have a little music to-night 
 at the studio," she said, " for Jack's here. He 
 wants you to come up. It's just going to be 
 a little family affair, with a few friends, that's 
 all. You haven't been up for a week, Edythe; 
 what's been the trouble ? " 
 
 The child was still clinging to her dress. 
 " Turn, mamma, ba' dog, baby dirl," he pleaded ; 
 but she loosened his grasp. 
 
 "Go down and see the dog," she said, insinu- 
 atingly. " Nice dog, go down and see it." 
 
 "It hurted me," he cried; "it's a ba' dog." 
 
 She left him on the staircase, and hurrying into 
 the studio closed the door.
 
 12 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 "When did Jack return ? " she asked, "and how 
 are father and mother? I haven't heard from 
 them for months." 
 
 " Very well, indeed ; Jack said that you didn't 
 write while he was there, but won't you come 
 up to-night, Edythe ? You are an object of pity 
 here. I never saw any one look so unhappy, 
 and we are going to have a real good, old- 
 fashioned time. I know you'd enjoy it." 
 
 " I am sure I should," she said at last ; " I 
 always like it there, but, O Dorothy, Geoffrey 
 is so opposed to my going there. I live here 
 like a cat driven from pillar to post." 
 
 "You never used to, Edythe," said her sister, 
 taking a long look at herself in the large mirror. 
 " I know I'm glad I'm not married. Well, I'm 
 off ; shall we expect you to-night or not, dear ? 
 There's that youngest of yours bewailing his fate 
 in the lower hall. Where's his nurse ? " she added 
 as she opened the door. " I should think he 
 would kill any inspirations you might have " 
 that apologizingly "good-by." 
 
 Edythe paused for a moment before she an- 
 swered, and then she said, " Yes, expect me ; this 
 life here cannot go on forever." 
 
 She went back into the room, and taking the
 
 DRIFTING 13 
 
 violets from the stand went out and locked the 
 door. 
 
 On reaching the lower staircase her husband 
 met her. " What has happened to our baby ? " 
 he said ; " his clothes are stained with blood." 
 
 " The baby is dead," Edythe replied slowly. 
 " She is where no harm can come to her." 
 
 Mr. Merrall was stung with her cold, indifferent 
 reply. The child Maurice had been taken into 
 the nursery ; where his little feet had been, were 
 stains of blood. He had been badly bitten by 
 a neighbour's dog while attempting to move a baby 
 which had been left for a moment in its carriage 
 by the nurse. 
 
 "It was for mamma, papa," he pleaded, when 
 the little wounds were being dressed, and the 
 soft head was resting on the father's arm. " It 
 was a baby dirl, papa," he said, "a baby dirl, 
 and it had no home, papa, and Maurice took 
 it." 
 
 Poor little fellow ! he fell asleep murmuring 
 not of his own troubles, but of others. He had 
 been severely injured by the dog, his tender skin 
 was torn in several places, but only one of the 
 wounds seemed serious. 
 
 "The child's mother had better remain with
 
 14 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 him during the night," said the physician. " A 
 child doesn't take readily to a nurse ; and in case 
 he should be delirious, it is better she were with 
 him." 
 
 Mr. Merrall was standing in the large bay 
 window opposite to them ; he was watching 
 his carriage that had just driven away from his 
 doors. He turned and faced the physician. 
 
 "The child shall be well cared for," he said; 
 then almost involuntarily he added, " I will remain 
 with him; for if death comes, it is better he 
 should find love in the harness." 
 
 Dr. Elliott was mystified by Mr. Merrall's 
 last words. " Love hi the harness," he repeated 
 to himself. True, he had not seen the mother; 
 where was she? Did she not care for her 
 injured boy? All these thoughts came before 
 his puzzled mind as he left the room. Was the 
 tide turning, as the world prophesied it would, 
 or had it already turned, with no mark as yet 
 on the outer shore ? Then, as if he were 
 recovering his lost senses, he stepped back into 
 the room. "I almost forgot to add," he said 
 kindly, " that I am at your service at any time ; 
 but I hope for your sake that I may say good- 
 by until morning."
 
 DRIFTING 15 
 
 Mr. Merrall made him no reply. The physician 
 left him standing by the child's bedside, speech- 
 less and entirely overcome. 
 
 And on the Coast of Time another wreck was 
 seen to come to shore.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 ON THE SHORE OF BOHEMIA 
 
 EDYTHE rode up Broadway, hardly once glanc- 
 ing out on the brilliantly lighted street. There 
 was a blockade at Fifty-sixth Street, and the 
 sudden stop of the carriage caused her to rouse 
 herself. She raised one of the curtains and 
 glanced out. 
 
 "A child has been injured by the cars," she 
 heard some one say, " a newsboy, not ten years 
 old." She saw his fragile little body as it lay 
 almost beside her in the street. They were 
 waiting for an ambulance while his life-blood 
 was ebbing away. In a moment her carriage 
 was at his disposal. The crowd gathered around 
 it as he was laid in, wrapped in the luxurious 
 opera cloak of the fair stranger. 
 
 "He is one of the hand-to-mouth world," she 
 was heard to say, as she nestled the small head 
 on her knee, and gently held the tired little hands, 
 as the carriage turned through into Fifth Avenue. 
 
 16
 
 ON THE SHORE OF BOHEMIA 17 
 
 
 
 The boy's semi-conscious eyes were upon her 
 face. " Yer a mother, I know," he said, " or 
 yer wouldn't let me have this 'ere cloak around 
 me." 
 
 "We are both Bohemians," she said softly, 
 forgetting her own injured boy in her thought 
 for this one. She left him at the hospital with 
 express orders that all should be done for him 
 with no regard to expense. She would not forget 
 him, were her last words. There was no name or 
 address left, but the boy remembered she had told 
 him that she lived in Bohemia, and she thought 
 he did ; but " I don't," he said, " I was born right 
 'ere in New York." When he was conscious he 
 would question the nurse as to Bohemia. Was 
 it a large place where his friend lived ? and no 
 one, not even the kind old doctor, could shed 
 any more light on the subject when the child 
 himself knew more of Bohemia than they did. 
 
 It was late when Edythe reached the studio. It 
 was ablaze with light, and the merry sound of the 
 dance music broke the stillness of her heart. 
 Without on the sidewalk several small waif chil- 
 dren were keeping time with their feet, glancing 
 up mischievously at the beautiful woman as she 
 alighted. Never did music seem more inspiring.
 
 1 8 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 The light hearts of the waifs delighted her, and 
 taking out a well-filled pocket-book she emptied 
 every coin to the crowd, and left them as the gay 
 scramble began. 
 
 Signor Lonspetti welcomed her on the staircase. 
 " I have been waiting for you for hours," he cried 
 enthusiastically. " I was told you were coming, 
 and my delight knew no bounds." 
 
 " It is always pleasant to meet an old friend, 
 now isn't it ? " she said, giving his hand a warm 
 clasp. " I suppose we are going to be favoured 
 with some of your compositions to-night, dear 
 Signor. Your ' Twilight Sonata ' I have never 
 forgotten. Do you remember how I was carried 
 away with it the first time I heard it ? " 
 
 "As if but yesterday, dear Mrs. Merrall; but 
 come, let me relieve you of your wraps and join 
 the others. There is quite a company here to- 
 night." 
 
 In a few moments she entered the studio. Her 
 sister Clare was singing a most attractive love- 
 song. Ghleska, her brilliant accompanist, never 
 played before a more enthralled audience. His 
 fingers never gave the perfect touch of to-night. 
 Clare's voice had swept his genius beyond recogni- 
 tion. It was like the clear voice of some unseen
 
 ON THE SHORE OF BOHEMIA 19 
 
 heavenly warbler. Clearer, more pathetically the 
 notes rang out, then dying away to a whisper it 
 was over. 
 
 Edythe was entranced. The past was all for- 
 gotten. She looked like some new creature stand- 
 ing there among her friends. Her brow was as 
 clear and untroubled as a child's. Her simple 
 white gown clung in soft folds about the tall, slen- 
 der figure. She resembled a beautiful Easter lily 
 a symbol of the resurrection. 
 
 Edythe was at home again in the old studio. 
 She was interested in the sketch of Ghleska's 
 hand, which her sister Dorothy had just finished, 
 and was considered a work of art. More than 
 once did the large velvety eyes wander over the 
 walls of the large studio, and what a vast room it 
 was. At one end was a Steinway grand, almost 
 hidden in its place to-night with flowers. Over it 
 hung a portrait in life size of Madame Camille 
 Marie, the great tragedienne. A violin, an instru- 
 ment that might have made her famous, was in 
 position on the left shoulder. Her chin rested on 
 it slightly. The other hand had commenced to 
 draw the bow across the strings. Her eyes im- 
 pelled silence and attention. A moment, and you 
 remember it is but an illusion of life, something
 
 20 
 
 that can be when youth and life are past. Pictures 
 were in every space. In the soft light you noticed 
 them faces of loveliness and faces of pain. Cos- 
 tumes of the stage were draped about the room ; 
 portieres were everywhere. On the floor heavy 
 Daghestan and Persian rugs made the footfalls 
 noiseless. Peace was reigning. Several recitations 
 followed, and then Signor Lonspetti followed on 
 the violin with his new "Spring Awakening." It 
 was a cry for the dance. Ghleska charmed the 
 piano into unison, and the others cleared the rooms 
 of the chairs and easels. Edythe's heart had burst 
 the chains of imprisonment. At the wave of Herr 
 Arditi's baton she was off with her partner, form- 
 ing the first couple in the "Artists' Reel." It 
 was bewildering. The short, perfect step of each 
 dancer, backward, forward, side step and turn ; the 
 Signer's wonderful violin repeating and increasing 
 its pleading for light hearts and happiness. The 
 dancers would never have wearied, had not the 
 Signor discovered that he was human and that the 
 spring had awakened, so the dance passed into 
 a remembrance, and supper came in with the 
 morning. 
 
 No one, not even Bessarde, the great sculptor, 
 guest of the evening, aroused so much interest and
 
 ON THE SHORE OF BOHEMIA 21 
 
 admiration as the beautiful Edythe. Lonspetti 
 was untiring in his attentions to her, she ever 
 ready to hear of his progress in the art that was so 
 dear to her. 
 
 " Oh, I wish I could play the violin," she would 
 say repeatedly ; " it seems like a fellow-being, so in 
 sympathy with all we do." 
 
 " I will instruct you," replied the master, " you 
 shall play as none others do with my teaching. 
 The 'Twilight Sonata' you may make famous, 
 something that I cannot do, and all things are 
 possible." 
 
 " But I have no time for the practice," she said 
 almost sadly, "my own work needs my every 
 thought" 
 
 " But I hear you do so little of it, am I right ? " 
 said the Signer. " I remember when you were 
 destined to be a great star, when the papers were 
 full of you, and your photographs were held at a 
 premium. Those were the happy days, Mrs. Mer- 
 rall. I was in London when the news reached me 
 that money had bought the jewel, fame and all. 
 The world saw no more of it. The owner locked 
 it up selfishly in his palatial home." 
 
 Lonspetti was forgetting himself. He paced 
 nervously up and down the long studio, forgetting
 
 22 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 that every word was piercing deep into an unhappy 
 woman's heart. 
 
 " Ah, yes, Mrs. Merrall," he thoughtlessly con- 
 tinued ; " you know my whole belief is, that we 
 might as well have a good time out of life, and 
 make the most of it, for we are destined to be a 
 long time dead." 
 
 Edythe had never thought of it before. She 
 had forgotten how much she had sacrificed for 
 money ; for wealth that had brought her no happi- 
 ness. The thought of it was passing before her now 
 like a horrible dream. She would break the fetters 
 and regain the loss she had suffered. Lonspetti 
 had said all things were possible ; and if fame had 
 been possible to possess at one time, it would be 
 possible again. Lonspetti's violin was echoing 
 the sad strains of an Italian love-song when the 
 guests departed, and then he too said good night, 
 and was gone. 
 
 " Lonspetti is a wonderful musician, is he not? " 
 said Clare, when he had disappeared, his old vio- 
 lin hidden beneath the cape of his long cloak. 
 " Ah, wonderful he is," replied Jack, drawing aside 
 the curtains to take a last glimpse of him as he 
 hurried from sight. 
 
 Dorothy was busy preparing a bed for her
 
 ON THE SHORE OF BOHEMIA 23 
 
 brother on the long couch in the studio, apologiz- 
 ing the while for not possessing two guest cham- 
 bers. Edythe was uncommonly silent. She may 
 have noticed that the carriage had not been sent 
 for her in case she should care to return. It 
 always was. It might be her neglect of the child, 
 and her husband was angry with her, or Maurice 
 might be worse and he had forgotten her ; but in 
 the nine years of unhappiness and misery, he had 
 never before failed in that courtesy. She wan- 
 dered into an outer room and threw herself on a 
 couch. It had been her room once, and she had 
 slept there many a night within vigil of the stars. 
 She used to know them all by name, and she was 
 trying to remember them when daylight brought 
 sleep to the weary, and hid them all from sight.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 THE TURN OF THE TIDE 
 
 WHEN Edythe awoke, it was very late. Clare 
 had gone to a rehearsal, and Dorothy was in the 
 studio at work. She looked up when Edythe 
 came in, and said : " Ah, at last ; the carriage has 
 been for you twice. The second time this note 
 was left for you. James was told to wait for an 
 answer, but I told him I wouldn't disturb you." 
 
 " I am thankful for that," she replied, as she 
 stood for a moment studying the small sealed 
 envelope in her hand. Then, as if mystified by 
 its meaning, she said at last, " I suppose I must 
 open it ; it is as I expected I must return home 
 this morning." 
 
 "Then you are going to leave us," said her 
 sister. 
 
 " At twelve the carriage will be here ; it is 
 almost that now." 
 
 When she reached her home, Mr. Merrall was 
 awaiting her in the library. He came out and 
 
 24
 
 THE TURN OF THE TIDE 25 
 
 took her hands in his. " I am glad you have come 
 back," he said, and there was a wealth of tender- 
 ness in his voice, " the baby was talking about 
 you all the morning. He is better, but the worst 
 is not past." He helped her off with her things, 
 and went upstairs with her. 
 
 " I have Maurice in the nursery," he motioned, 
 "he seemed to be happiest there." 
 
 Edythe followed him into the large room where 
 a small boy welcomed her, holding out both of his 
 baby arms to her. 
 
 "You are better, dear," she said, stooping and 
 kissing him, "and is the little leg well again?" 
 It was said mechanically, as if it were an effort 
 to express an interest which was not hers to give. 
 The child noticed it. He gave her a terrified look, 
 and his blue eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " You don't tare if I am hurted," he cried, " and 
 I'm your own little boy." 
 
 The other two children were standing beside 
 the sick boy trying to comfort him. 
 
 "She loves you, baby," they said, "and those 
 that say the least about it, love the best." The 
 child was for the moment comforted, and the 
 mother smiled. She left the children there and 
 went into her own room. Mr. Merrall followed
 
 26 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 her. " If the baby is well enough to be moved, 
 I thought we might open the house at Newport 
 this coming week," her husband said ; " the 
 doctor approves of a change at once for Maurice." 
 Then as she made him no reply, he added, " I 
 suppose you can be ready to go at any time." 
 
 " No, Geoffrey, I cannot. Take the children 
 and go yourself, but I will remain in New York." 
 
 " Edythe, in what way have I offended you, 
 what is the trouble ? " Mr. Merrall cried. 
 
 " You have not done anything," was her indif- 
 ferent reply as she turned to him. " You under- 
 stand me, Geoffrey, I am going away from 
 you." 
 
 Mr. Merrall sprung forward, his face was colour- 
 less, his lips ashen white. He caught both her 
 hands in his. " Is it some one else ? " he cried ; 
 " Edythe, are the children to be motherless ? " 
 
 Edythe was unmoved. If there was any trouble 
 in her heart, she did not show it. " I am going 
 back to my art," she said at last. "I was mad 
 when I gave it up. You came into my life and 
 offered me wealth and love. I was a mere child, 
 struggling against the fickleness of fortune. I 
 was blind to my genius. I married you, regretting 
 it the day afterward. I have borne this existence
 
 THE TURN OF THE TIDE 27 
 
 almost ten years ; now, Geoffrey, you must let me 
 go." It has been most truly said that those who 
 play with fate stake to lose. Like love, fate is a 
 game at which one cheats to win. Mr. Merrall was 
 standing with his back toward her, every vein in 
 his face was bulging out ; his hands trembled as 
 never before. He appeared stupefied. 
 
 " You get the divorce," she continued, when he 
 did not speak. " You may keep the children, and 
 I will never trouble them. I will go back to my 
 old friends and to the art I love." 
 
 Mr. Merrall turned. " Let it be separation and 
 not divorce," he said. " Edythe, I have loved you, 
 and will always love you. Don't drive me to ruin." 
 His words were heartrending. His splendid figure 
 was bowed with his emotion, then, as she was 
 ready to leave him, he said : " Edythe, if a time 
 ever comes when you need a friend, send for me. 
 We are born, but we are not buried. I shall never 
 forget that the children are yours as much as mine, 
 and we both have one in heaven. Days may turn 
 to years, and years roll into eternity ; but the 
 children can have but one father and one mother, 
 and one heaven in the end. Good-by." 
 
 She left him standing at the window, and was 
 hardly out of sight when the physician's carriage
 
 28 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 turned the corner. Mr. Merrall was in the nursery 
 when he entered, smoothing out Douglas's tangled 
 curls. The boy was seated on a low ottoman, his 
 head buried on his father's knee. 
 
 " Papa is tombing Buddy's wig, doctor," said 
 the invalid, putting up his rosebud lips for the 
 morning kiss. " Papa is our mamma now and our 
 papa, and he is our good nurse." 
 
 The physician smiled, and turning to Mr. Mer- 
 rall, said, " Did he pass a good night ? " 
 
 " Very good, he hardly turned once. The only 
 complaint he makes is about his leg. It seems to 
 be somewhat swollen." 
 
 " All twollen, and it hurted me," says Maurice, 
 sympathetically, trying to move it. " Tan't do it," 
 he said, " it hurted me all over." 
 
 " Poor baby," says the doctor, and then as 
 Douglas had joined Lionel, he summoned up cour- 
 age and inquired for Mrs. Merrall. 
 
 " She is not here," was the reply. " She went 
 out as you came in." 
 
 " And she's never turning back again, doctor," 
 interrupts Maurice, shaking his wee head, " never. 
 She tissed me right here," he said, pointing to his 
 dimpled cheek, " and she said, ' Be a dood boy 
 always, Maurice, for mamma not turning back/ and
 
 THE TURN OF THE TIDE 29 
 
 she tissed Buddy and Lionel, and then she went 
 out." 
 
 Mr. Merrall was standing in the doorway. " It 
 is too bad," he said, "too bad." 
 
 " It is true, then," said the physician, trying to 
 see the injured limb through his clouded eyes. 
 His glasses were like a sea of mist. He took them 
 off, wiped them, and put them on again. 
 
 " It is very kind of you to feel for us, doctor," 
 Mr. Merrall said, as he noticed the physician's great 
 emotion. " It is hard that it should have come now 
 of all times, but trouble never comes unattended. 
 Mrs. Merrall's love for her art superseded that for 
 her children, and she has gone back to it. She 
 was a good woman always, a woman of splendid 
 and blameless character, but entirely heartless. 
 Of course she was Bohemian in her tastes and 
 interests, but even in Bohemia you find splendid 
 men and women. I am not opposed to the life, 
 I never to my knowledge said an unjust word 
 about it. There are no worse people there than in 
 any other walk of life. Edythe was born there, 
 and I was not ; but that never made any difference 
 between us. I respected her and loved her, and she 
 knew it. I never blamed her because she had not 
 a mother's heart. I was reading in this morning's
 
 30 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 paper an account of an accident to a newsboy last 
 night on Broadway. It interested me because I 
 have boys of my own, and one ill the night he was. 
 It told of a beautiful woman, who took the child to 
 the hospital and left it there to be cared for. She 
 left no name or address, but promised to come 
 again. It is said that she was a thorough Bohe- 
 mian, from her style and dress, but what a true 
 mother's heart that splendid woman had." 
 
 Dr. Elliott interrupted him. " Mr. Merrall, I 
 was in the hospital when the child was brought 
 there. There is nothing about the accident I do 
 not know. I saw the woman who brought the 
 boy there, whose arms carried the child to the 
 ward, and I know her name." 
 
 Mr. Merrall started. " Who was it?" he cried. 
 " Was it Mrs. Merrall ? " and the doctor replied : 
 " It was. I should never have spoken of it to you if 
 you had not She didn't notice me, for she hardly 
 glanced about her. The cloak she wore was stained 
 with blood. They would never have thought of 
 her being a Bohemian if she had not told the child 
 so herself. The last question he asked of me was, 
 ' Where is Bohemia, where my friend live ? ' ' 
 
 Mr. Merrall was too. stung and mystified to 
 speak. The elder boy, Lionel, was standing out-
 
 THE TURN OF THE TIDE 31 
 
 side the door when his father noticed him, and 
 drew aside the portieres. " Come in, Lionel," he 
 said, and the child entered. 
 
 " I want to know about Maurice," he said, draw- 
 ing close to the sick boy as he spoke, and then, 
 almost beseechingly, he whispered to his father, 
 " He is going to get well now, isn't he, father ? " 
 
 Dr. Elliott had finished bandaging the swollen 
 limb and was about to leave, when he motioned 
 Mr. Merrall to follow him. " I wanted to tell you," 
 he said, " that I shall be here again at twelve. 
 The child's temperature is all right, but his leg is 
 not what it ought to be. I am afraid that blood 
 poisoning may set in, but I shall know positively 
 by to-night." 
 
 " You don't think, doctor, that he will be taken 
 away from me ? " 
 
 " No," was the physician's reply ; " it is not 
 at all probable. If blood poisoning should set 
 in, it may not be serious; but again it might 
 prove fatal, we cannot tell. The child seems 
 to be in a splendid condition, and that gives us 
 everything to hope for." 
 
 " Listen," interrupted Mr. Merrall, " the chil- 
 dren are speaking." They drew near to the 
 door. Lionel was seated on the bed, holding
 
 32 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 the baby's hand. Maurice was speaking. " Did 
 you know, Lionel," he said, "that mamma had 
 gone to tate tare of another little boy who 
 hasn't dot any father or mother, or anything? 
 Dod has sent her to him." 
 
 " No, Maurice," says Lionel, " God didn't take 
 her away from us, she went away herself. She 
 didn't love you or me or anybody, and you 
 ought not to cry." 
 
 " But I want my mother," says the child. " I 
 like to look at her. I do want her so," he 
 cried pitifully, " and I don't know where to 
 find her." 
 
 " Do you want her back, Maurice," says Lionel, 
 " when she don't love us ? " 
 
 The baby buried his face in the pillows. 
 "Yes, I want her," he cried, "if she hated me, 
 I want her," and the two men turned speech- 
 less from the door.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 AN ALIEN IN BOHEMIA 
 
 A MORNING in the studio was often the pleas- 
 antest part of the day to Edythe. There were 
 always " droppers-in," no matter what the 
 weather. On this particular morning several 
 had been and gone, and the forenoon was not 
 past. Ghleska had hurried away, Clare had to 
 attend a rehearsal, and Dorothy was ill. Edythe 
 was alone in the studio when Lonspetti appeared. 
 " I was told Miss Marion was here," he said, 
 coming in. 
 
 " Yes ; but she's off for Chicago now," was 
 the reply. "Her company leaves on the 11.06." 
 
 " Then I can't see her now," he laughed. 
 " She wanted me " to find out what Sanger had 
 offered for her Rahway farm, and I didn't see 
 the agent until half-past ten, so I hurried right 
 up here, hoping to catch her before she left. 
 If you'll just give me a slip of paper and a 
 pencil, I'll send her a line to reach her in 
 
 33
 
 34 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Chicago. No matter about pen and ink if you 
 have a pencil about." 
 
 He was engaged thus when the janitor an- 
 nounced a visitor, the Rev. John Rodgers 
 Courtney, assistant rector of Calvary Church. 
 
 Edythe was undecided about seeing him, but 
 after a moment's deliberation she said slowly, 
 "Ask him up." 
 
 Lonspetti had finished his note when the door 
 opened and the young clergyman entered. He 
 shook hands with her cordially, giving the Signer 
 a slight glance of recognition as they were 
 introduced, and the latter departed. 
 
 " It is some time since I have had the pleasure 
 of seeing you," he said slowly, " not since I 
 laid your little girl away, although you may 
 remember I called several times afterward." 
 
 " I was ill for some time after her death," 
 Edythe replied, " and I never saw any one. 2 ' 
 
 Mr. Courtney was interested in her " Child's 
 Head," and after studying it for some moments 
 his eyes fell on an old portrait directly oppo- 
 site. It was that of a bishop in his robes. 
 
 " May I ask if that is one of your family ? " 
 he inquired, rising to see it. " It is a splendid 
 portrait."
 
 AN ALIEN IN BOHEMIA 35 
 
 " Oh, no, only one that my sister has been 
 asked to restore. It was badly cracked and 
 faded," and then she added, " I don't think 
 we have any bishops in our family, Mr. Courtney, 
 I never heard of any." 
 
 " But you are church people, I suppose, your 
 father and mother and those before them ? " 
 
 "Well, hardly; my grandfather was a Baptist 
 minister, and my father heard so much of it as 
 a boy that I never remember his going to 
 church." 
 
 "And your mother?" 
 
 "I have heard she attended the Presbyterian 
 church before her marriage, but that can be of 
 little interest to either of us." Mr. Courtney 
 bowed. "You know I am an agnostic," she 
 continued frankly. " I should be very glad to 
 believe in a future if I could be convinced of 
 one." 
 
 " You do not believe in immortality then ? " 
 cried the clergyman, and Edythe shook her head. 
 " I do not know. We all of us hope there is a 
 future somewhere, but death is a borderland 
 mystery, something we shall all know when the 
 river is crossed, the swift tide has hurried on 
 to the end, and the days are all past. We can
 
 36 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 know nothing of the hereafter; we must see to 
 believe, and die to see." 
 
 The clergyman was discomfited. "You can- 
 not say, Mrs. Merrall, that you never expect to 
 see that baby girl again that you laid away." 
 
 Again she shook her head. " I simply do not 
 know," she replied. " If I could believe in immor- 
 tality, I would. If you believe in it, tell me, do we 
 grow younger or older after death, or do the little 
 ones stay for all time the age they left us ? " and 
 for the first time Mr. Courtney was without a 
 reply. 
 
 " That is what mystifies me," Edythe continued, 
 " and this life here I do not understand. Why do 
 some suffer when a wicked brother is always 
 happy ? Why are some rich and others starving 
 if there is a Saviour ? " 
 
 " It is mere circumstance : a poor man might 
 often become wealthy by a stroke of the hand or 
 by some stray thought or opportunity which" he has 
 let carelessly go by. You know, Mrs. Merrall, 
 that none of us brought anything into this world." 
 
 " No, they were not allowed the trouble and 
 burden. The rich child finds it awaiting him, and 
 the poor one must work for the rich child in order 
 to live; and yet all of us came the same way into
 
 AN ALIEN IN BOHEMIA 37 
 
 this world, and it is certain that we are all going 
 the same way out. It is the one satisfaction of my 
 life to know that the rich man's days are numbered 
 as well as the poor man's, and that death never 
 yielded to a fortune in one instance. Even the 
 great Elizabeth said, ' All my possessions for one 
 moment of time.' Of course, Mr. Courtney, I am 
 a non-believer ; what I say is not what I ask you 
 to preach, and what I preach I ask none to live up 
 to except the believer." 
 
 " That is very fair and kind of you," Mr. Court- 
 ney replied. "We clergy hear a great many 
 beliefs and opinions. A man's heart cannot be 
 judged from his religion, nor a man's soul from 
 what he does. We none of us have the power to 
 decide a man's last resting-place, be it heaven or 
 not. We leave that to himself and to his Maker. 
 If he has gone to destruction and ruin, ignoring 
 help and sustenance, he had in some way, either 
 blindly or willingly, fallen too far down in the dark 
 precipice for men to save him at the last. It is 
 like a man crying for deliverance when he has met 
 death." 
 
 The young clergyman was leaning up against 
 an easel, his strong white hand was resting on its 
 frame. He was a magnificently built man, tall,
 
 38 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 strong, and powerful. He had a fine face, eyes 
 that betokened assurance and knowledge. His 
 manner and appearance were that of a man of 
 forty, although the young rector was but thirty- 
 one. He had graduated with high honours from 
 the Theological Seminary, been well spoken of by 
 the clergy, and had been given a place to fill in the 
 church that many older men envied. His first 
 sermon to Calvary congregation had been well 
 delivered, and each succeeding effort had been 
 marked with success; and now he felt that a 
 woman had sought light in his knowledge to find 
 him lacking. As they talked on, upon his face 
 there came that look of respect and admiration for 
 Mrs. Merrall that for the first time in their many 
 meetings he had ever felt for her. Something 
 about the woman appealed to him. The questions 
 she had put to him were of a deeper thought than 
 he would have given her credit for. This was the 
 woman that in his heart he had once despised. It 
 was to her he had come with reproof for the neg- 
 lect of her sick boy. He had come reluctantly, no 
 doubt, this his heart confessed. The rector had 
 sent him, for hadn't the news of Mr. Merrall's 
 troubles been well discussed in society ? Twice 
 that week she had sent flowers to the child, and
 
 AN ALIEN IN BOHEMIA 39 
 
 the tiny watch he had had but a few hours, Mr. 
 Merrall knew had come from Edythe. 
 
 Mr. Courtney had come on his errand with a 
 determined mind to make all things right. The 
 time was passing and no mention of Maurice had 
 yet been made. He hardly cared to mention what 
 must needs be painful to her, he thought. He 
 could see in the woman's face before him no 
 unkindness, no cruelty. She had a beautiful 
 expression, and the most perfect eyes, he thought, 
 that ever graced a woman's face. Was it his duty, 
 he reasoned, he a stranger, to direct her to go to 
 her child ? Surely she would go no sooner at his 
 suggestion. Neither the rector nor he had any 
 possible claim upon her. He had wandered many 
 times about the studio in his uneasiness, hoping, 
 trusting that he might be given strength to fulfil 
 the rector's wishes and be gone. In his heart he 
 had no desire to disturb Mrs. Merrall. The 
 atmosphere of the artistic surroundings was new 
 to him, and it appealed to him. There was peace 
 there, and music everywhere. The air seemed 
 laden with inspirations. Ideas came to him that 
 were revelations. He could preach if he could 
 only write his sermons there. The musical instru- 
 ments, the pictures, the faces of living and dead
 
 40 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 geniuses, looked at him with the kind eyes of 
 friends. The two birds that sang in the large bay 
 window near him cheered his heart and soul. 
 How the moments flew there ! He had intended 
 to make his visit a short one, thirty minutes at the 
 most, and already an hour had taken flight. But 
 now he was going going, he felt, back to the 
 real world again. He would come again when he 
 hoped he might be able to express the delight that 
 was in his heart, and as the elevator carried him 
 downward he said to himself, " So this is a land 
 in Bohemia."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 BREAKERS AHEAD 
 
 AND that night the Rev. John Rodgers Court- 
 ney slept little. Over him, like a hypnotic 
 spell, hovered the influence of Edythe Barattoni. 
 In the darkness of the night her fair face shone 
 in its beauty. His heart beat and his pulses 
 throbbed as he thought of her. He would fall 
 asleep but to dream of her, and she was another 
 man's wife. Once, when he was four years 
 younger, he had dreamed that he was in love. 
 Because he had seen no fairer face, he had always 
 treasured that one as a child does things he may 
 hope to have. To-night the image of that girl was 
 shattered to the ground. That was not love, he 
 thought. A man can love well but once. The 
 strange charm of Edythe Barattoni had fastened 
 itself upon the soul of Rodgers Courtney. She 
 bewildered all men, why not he ? even a clergyman 
 is human. He tried to drive the influence away 
 with a strong will and a stout heart. He could 
 never marry her, he could never have her love. 
 
 41
 
 42 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 She was an agnostic, he a believer in immortality. 
 He must marry some one who could help him in 
 his work for God. He had always thought that 
 Emily Edwards was the woman he should eventu- 
 ally marry. She cared for him, and he had always 
 given her every reason to believe that he returned 
 it. Four years had passed since he met her, and 
 but once in that time had he spoken to her of 
 marriage, and that was but a fortnight ago. Every- 
 thing he possessed now would he have given to 
 blot the memory of it out. She had not forgotten 
 it. " A woman never forgets," he thought. Like a 
 miserable dream the memory of that Tuesday 
 night rose up before him, only to fade away again 
 in the thought and remembrance of Edythe Barat- 
 toni. In the locked drawer of his small library 
 table, wrapped in a bit of lavender silk, was her 
 photograph. It had been painted for him and 
 given to him by Emily Edwards's mother. He 
 remembered now how like a hypocrite he felt when 
 he took it from her. Then the thought occurred 
 to him that he had never seen a girl he liked better 
 than Emily Edwards. She was pretty, just pretty 
 enough to be always pretty. She had golden 
 brown hair, which she wore directly back from her 
 face, soft brown eyes, a pink and white complexion,
 
 BREAKERS AHEAD 43 
 
 and a faultless mouth. She was slightly above the 
 medium height, she dressed plainly but exceed- 
 ingly well. There was a certain dignity about her 
 that commanded respect from every one. She 
 never argued anything, yet her education and 
 information were far above the ordinary. When 
 she spoke, she knew how to speak, and with her 
 uncommon mind had mastered well the rules of 
 silence. Emily Edwards was twenty-five, just the 
 woman for a clergyman's wife, people said who 
 knew her. Rodgers Courtney couldn't do better. 
 She was always faithful in her word and deed, a 
 great and sympathetic worker in the church she 
 loved, and a woman whom every one admired. For 
 four years Rodgers Courtney had dragged the 
 affair on, never quite a lover, though always a 
 friend. Emily loved him, no one knew it better 
 than Rodgers himself, and while half regretting 
 it, he always, perhaps unconsciously, kept off the 
 butterflies that fluttered about her. He had known 
 of two men who had wanted to marry her, but she 
 had given them up for him. When he heard of it, 
 he didn't tell her, as he should have done, " Don't 
 do it for me, I am not worthy of it." No, he 
 smiled at her, and that night sent her the largest 
 white violets he could find in New York.
 
 44 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 But, after all, what are violets ? They do not 
 hold a winged bird the closer. They are only 
 messengers of to-day's love, to-morrow's is another 
 lottery. The violets all will be dead, their coming 
 and their message is only a mind's memory. 
 The violet ribbon that tied them you say will last ; 
 ay, truly, but a violet ribbon is not a written con- 
 fession in black and white. Rodgers Courtney in 
 his heart meant to marry Emily Edwards some- 
 time, although the final declaration and preparation 
 he had repeatedly put off. A few weeks before 
 he was assistant at a large church wedding. Emily 
 was one of the bridesmaids. He remembered as 
 she stood beside the bride that some day in the 
 not distant future she would be his wife, and he 
 thought how much fairer she was than the one who 
 stood at the altar. Wedding bells always infuse 
 in us a kind of sentiment. They say one wedding 
 invariably makes another. For that short moment 
 Rodgers Courtney wished with all his heart it were 
 his wedding day, and he told Emily so that night 
 after the reception. He remembered now that she 
 didn't blush or stammer as many girls would have 
 done, but she smiled, and a woman's smile he 
 thought was worth half a dozen answers. And 
 to-night life looked so different to him. He
 
 BREAKERS AHEAD 45 
 
 remembered, though with a feeling of remorse, 
 how the night of the wedding he had sat in his 
 study for an hour or more looking at her picture 
 but no one knew it but himself. He had seen 
 Emily the next morning at a guild meeting, and it 
 was his intention to tell her of the incident, per- 
 haps something more ; but something interrupted 
 him, and now he was thankful that Providence 
 had interfered.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE STUDIO OF THE BARATTONIS 
 
 IF Edythe ever thought of the child's illness, 
 it apparently did not disturb her. She was at her 
 old seat in the studio by the eastern window, her 
 mind intent on her picture of a child's head. Lon- 
 spetti and Clare were singing together at one end 
 of the room, and Dorothy was adding some finish- 
 ing touches to a picture that had long been 
 ordered. Presently Miss Morgan, an old friend of 
 Dorothy's, dropped in for a chat ; she was imbued 
 with her theatrical success, and the future that 
 lay open before her. " Failure is almost impos- 
 sible with such a play," she exclaimed. " I don't 
 believe there is another play like it in the country. 
 It is all excitement, heroism on my part, grandeur 
 of style, and a dying scene at the end which is 
 powerfully realistic. It is positive success." 
 
 Edythe listened with interest to the conversation, 
 the delightful assurance that fate had given this 
 fair woman. Ah, if she only had such assurance, 
 
 46
 
 THE STUDIO OF THE BARATTONIS 47 
 
 she thought, but she was as bereft of faith as a 
 new-born child of raiment. She was quiet at her 
 work this morning, stopping only once or twice to 
 listen to Lonspetti's " White Violets," which he 
 had composed for her sister. It was a dainty 
 thing and admirably suited to the voice of the 
 young singer, whose name was becoming known 
 over two continents. No young singer of the day 
 gave the promise of Clare Barattoni. Edythe was 
 well proud of her. She was a girl of twenty-four 
 summers, though a mere child in appearance. 
 She was not above medium height, with a child- 
 ish grace and simplicity, and lovable ways. She 
 was not handsome, as her two sisters were; for 
 even Dorothy, with her conceit and self-conscious- 
 ness, was unmistakably fine looking. Clare was 
 not that. Her features had not the perfect regu- 
 larity of Edythe's, nor had she Dorothy's won- 
 derful smile. Her features were an alluring 
 combination, none of them exactly pleasing to 
 a sculptor or painter, yet in themselves charm- 
 ing to look upon. Her nose was slightly tip- 
 tilted, there was a pout that lingered about the 
 mouth, her eyes were handsome, as was her golden 
 hair. She held herself well, and when on the 
 stage none ever looked more radiantly beautiful
 
 48 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 than she did. She was engaged to sing in Lon- 
 don that summer, and Lonspetti's "White Violets " 
 was to be in her repertory. Dorothy and Miss 
 Morgan had gone out when they had finished 
 rehearsing, and Lonspetti was stowing away the 
 old Stradivarius in its case when Edythe inter- 
 rupted him. 
 
 " Don't go, Signer," she said, pushing back 
 her chair, and holding out her hand toward him. 
 " Come, you and Clare, and talk to me," she added, 
 as she pulled up two chairs near her. 
 
 " As if you had not heard enough of me to 
 desire no further communication," said the 
 Signor in his fascinating way, coming up and 
 acknowledging graciously the attention showed 
 him. Clare put away her music before she joined 
 them, and was hardly seated when the postman 
 appeared in the doorway. 
 
 "I have here a letter for a Mrs. Merrall," he 
 said, as he handed to Clare three letters and 
 paused with the fourth one, departing immediately 
 on its being claimed. Edythe excused herself and 
 opened the letter. It was from Geoffrey, one of 
 his appealing notes. 
 
 "We take Maurice to Newport to-morrow," it 
 read. " Will you not see him before we go, as he
 
 THE STUDIO OF THE BARATTONIS 49 
 
 cries constantly for you, reaching out for your 
 love beyond mine. Blood poisoning has not set 
 in or any distressing symptoms, yet his baby 
 strength is waning, and his last days with us are 
 now passing away. As we were given one of God's 
 brightest children for so short a time, can we let 
 him return home with his last request unanswered, 
 and the memory of it to haunt me forever ? Once 
 again I pray you to come to him. 
 
 "GEOFFREY MERRALL." 
 
 She handed the note to her sister, and again 
 seating herself pulled out from a table drawer 
 some pen and ink sketches she was doing. " I 
 want to show you these, Signor," she said, lay- 
 ing the note aside. " I have a Cordova here 
 which I thought would interest you. I began 
 it when Bottman was in this country ; it's his 
 violin. I just finished it yesterday. I thought 
 I might dispose of it," she continued, "if it 
 would bring a fair price, worth the time, you 
 know." 
 
 And the Signor nodded in the affirmative. 
 " Certainly, not only for the time, but the work, 
 it should bring a large compensation." 
 
 Then, as he was studying it, Edythe's glance 
 fell upon her sister. " Did you read it ? " she
 
 50 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 asked. " Quite unnecessary, don't you think 
 so ? " 
 
 " Ah, but I would go, Edythe ; go, and you 
 will never regret it. I could not refuse a 
 stranger that wanted me, and this is your own 
 child." 
 
 " Yes, my own, 'tis true ; but I was given no 
 heart to love him with. 'Tis better for me to 
 stay away than make my visit to him a disap- 
 pointment. I sympathize with him, but he 
 refuses my sympathy. He wants what his father 
 wanted before him, my whole heart," and her 
 words set the Signer thinking as he passed 
 quietly out. " Geoffrey will be there," Edythe 
 continued ; "he will beg for my return to him. 
 He will plead for me to explain everything, and 
 insist upon offering me help of which I am not in 
 need. I made the great mistake of my life in 
 marrying him. I have borne his name for nine 
 years, and now I purpose to begin my career over 
 again, another and a wiser woman. My mistake 
 has shown me life as I never pictured it. It has 
 given me experience which is the best teacher of 
 them all, and under her instruction I shall begin 
 to work again, forgetting everything that belongs 
 to the past."
 
 THE STUDIO OF THE BARATTONIS 51 
 
 " Then you will not go, Edythe ? " said her sister, 
 and the reply was " No." 
 
 Then the work went on again. Clare sang 
 snatches of several songs, and Edythe continued 
 with her picture. " When I finish this," she said, 
 glancing up, " I have a splendid conception for a 
 picture of death. I've been working it out in my 
 mind's eye for some time, and I intend to work in 
 it my best efforts." 
 
 " I wish you would go abroad with me, and paint 
 it there," says Clare, returning. " Not only for the 
 pleasure of having you with me, but it would do 
 you lots of good." 
 
 " Yes, but I want to have my arrangements for 
 next season settled ; I 've got to stay here. If I get 
 a theatre in New York, as I want to for the first 
 week in October, my rehearsals must be under way 
 by the first of September, and my company looked 
 up." 
 
 " It will seem strange to see you on the boards 
 again, dearie," said Clare. " No one will welcome 
 you back more heartily than I shall." 
 
 " Returning after nine years to seek the laurels 
 that were once mine is going to be like a leap in 
 the dark. I have saved the money to do it, and 
 I intend to do it carefully, giving it my whole
 
 52 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 thought and time. Haste has lost many a for- 
 tune." 
 
 ******** 
 
 In the Merrall home the sun was sinking, and 
 the bed where the sick boy lay was wrapt in its 
 glory. Geoffrey Merrall sat beside the bed, keep- 
 ing the sun from the child's face. " You 'spected 
 her before this, didn't you, father ? " says Maurice, 
 breaking the silence as he pushed himself higher 
 on the pillows and sighed heavily. 
 
 " Yes, I did, little boy." 
 
 " I know you did, or you wouldn't have told me 
 so," says the child ; " but it seems long waiting, 
 doesn't it, father ? " 
 
 " Yes, Maurice," was the quiet reply. 
 
 Mr. Merrall stroked the child's head tenderly. 
 " I guess now she's going to wait and have sup- 
 per," suggests Maurice. " I guess I'd better have 
 mine now while I'm waiting." 
 
 Dinner over, the long, long wait began again. 
 Never once did the child's faith in his mother wane 
 ever so little. The other boys went to sleep, but 
 the baby's eyes tired not in their vigil. The little 
 clock on the mantel struck seven eight nine 
 ten, and then eleven. 
 
 The yacht Dorothy was scheduled to leave for
 
 THE STUDIO OF THE BARATTONIS 53 
 
 Newport at six in the morning. There was no 
 other chance for Edythe to come before they left. 
 Geoffrey had long given up hope when Maurice 
 did. Then in the stillness of the room Geoffrey 
 heard him repeating to himself the prayer that his 
 mother had taught him, " Now I lay me down to 
 sleep." The nurse heard him, and turned the 
 light still further down. Mr. Merrall passed noise- 
 lessly into his room, and the nurse's vigil for the 
 night began.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 SIGNOR LONSPETTI 
 
 "Music is well said to be the speech of angels." CARLYLE. 
 
 THE Rev. John Rodgers Courtney was often 
 a guest at the Barattonis 1 . He had heard, 
 for who had not, of Edythe's continued indiffer- 
 ence to her child, of her separation from her 
 husband, and of her possible return to the stage. 
 Society shrugged her shoulders and said, " I told 
 you so," and many ugly rumours crept out of the 
 highways and byways only to meet certain denial 
 at the hands of Geoffrey Merrall. He promptly 
 denied everything that would in any way cast a 
 shadow on his wife's character or career. Hurt 
 at heart as he was, he held up her name in open 
 defiance to the world. " Those who pass her, 
 pass me," he was heard to say to his rector, 
 the Rev. Dr. Mcllvaine. "Whatever insult is 
 offered to Mrs. Merrall, I shall consider as offered 
 to me. I have sent her the keys of my house 
 that she may return when she chooses ; for while 
 she bears my name, she has my protection." So 
 
 54
 
 SIGNOR LONSPETTI 55 
 
 society ceased talking, and with Mr. Men-all's 
 removal to Newport the incident, sad as it was, 
 was for the moment forgotten. 
 
 Occasionally strangers would pass the house 
 there and look at it with idle curiosity, but its 
 quiet dignity told little, though it impressed 
 all. 
 
 Maurice was gaining strength in the excellent 
 care of his grandmother, who, as she herself 
 once declared, was no genius, but a good nurse ; 
 and where art had no responding note, she had 
 a wonderful love for her own people. " I am 
 one of the old-fashioned people," she said once, 
 many years before. " I came from Massachusetts. 
 I was born in the same house my great-grand- 
 father was born and lived in. The garden where 
 he played as a child, I also played in. Other 
 houses as old as ours stood beside it. Their 
 inhabitants were our friends, not friends met 
 yesterday, but friends for generations. Among 
 them I don't recall one genius. Brighter men 
 and women I have no doubt there were, and 
 this higher education and forward march breeds 
 some excellent people still, but ten times as 
 many fools. We are living to-day in a new- 
 fashioned world. I do not belong to this artistic
 
 56 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 generation." So opinions differ as the world 
 runs on. Edythe knew well her mother-in-law's 
 sentiments, though even the thought of an unkind 
 word had never passed between them. Now that 
 the past lay behind her, blotted out as a mistake, 
 she never recalled it. With fresh courage and 
 awakened ambition her new life was beginning. 
 Like a nightingale that had been for years im- 
 prisoned where the sun failed to find him, where 
 the voice God had blessed him with he had no 
 heart to use, now away to his own home, his 
 friends, and the sunshine. If a bird is unhappy 
 a captive, why not a human being who has an 
 immortal soul ? Freedom is the greatest light of 
 civilization. 
 
 Edythe was at work on her picture, and her 
 mind was wholly upon it. Several artists and 
 connoisseurs had been in to see it, and had con- 
 sidered it above the ordinary. No one was more 
 impressed with its certain distinctness of style 
 and colour than Rodgers Courtney, who although 
 not an artist might have been one. His charm 
 and interest pleased Edythe; for though she 
 thought him a little estranged in their Bohemian 
 surroundings, nevertheless they welcomed him 
 kindly and took his interests to heart.
 
 SIGNOR LONSPETTI 57 
 
 The friendship with Emily Edwards remained 
 unbroken, though his interest in her had long 
 died. He had confided the affair to Edythe, 
 who advised him by all means to marry her. 
 "A happy marriage," she said, "is where two 
 hearts meet in a common interest; that is your 
 church, which she loved before you met her. 
 Socially, you stand on the same ground, your 
 friends are all common ones " and still he hesi- 
 tated. Edythe didn't know it was she that was 
 the rock between them. Had she but known, 
 she would have cast it down. Many men had 
 loved her in her life, but she was not a woman 
 who ever boasted of conquests. " Give me a man 
 who will be my friend, not my lover," she had 
 said. " Friendship is harder won than admira- 
 tion." Lonspetti had never married because of 
 Edythe, though to her it was a thing undreamed 
 of. He would have destroyed his old Stradi- 
 varius, which was dearer to him than his life, 
 to have given Edythe any happiness. 
 
 "Ah, my old, old friend, my violin," he has 
 cried so often. " All that I have to make life 
 worth the living. My Stradivarius, my own 
 familiar friend." 
 
 Those who were fond of the Signer invariably
 
 58 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 had a peculiar affection for the old instrument. 
 Lonspetti might have conquered the world with 
 the magic of his violin. He had held audiences 
 in London when standing room went at a pre- 
 mium. He had played before the greatest musi- 
 cal critics of the world, only to mystify them with 
 the mere touch of his wand. "What kind of a 
 man is this Lonspetti ? " said Bottman, when he 
 wrote his "Impressions of America" on his 
 return to Italy. " I went to hear him a sceptic ; I 
 came away a thinker. He showed me that my 
 violin was yet sleeping, which I thought awakened. 
 He is greater than any one I have ever heard." 
 Russi, a violinist of no small reputation in his day, 
 wrote to the London Times : " My visit to America 
 is forgotten in the effort to remember the music of 
 Lonspetti's Stradivarius. His violin brings closer 
 communication with heaven than I thought was 
 possible." 
 
 Only for others Lonspetti lives, and what a 
 grand, good life it is ! No one knew, but a favoured 
 few, that the proceeds of his last concert in Mad- 
 ison Square Garden went for the poor of New 
 York. " I am one of them," he said, " and my 
 heart is with them." But the Signor had no need 
 to be poor. Poverty only walked with him at his
 
 SIGNOR LONSPETTI 59 
 
 own bidding. To have accepted but one offer for 
 a concert tour would have assured him of a for- 
 tune. But he is only resting now, he tells us, and 
 he needs it. 
 
 The Signer is forty-one, born in Italy of a 
 grand old family. He does not tell us of his an- 
 cestors or of his life in Florence ; but if you know 
 the bearing and air of an old noble family, you 
 will not doubt as to what class this musician 
 belongs. " I am a wanderer," he says, " Bohe- 
 mian, and musician. I left Italy when a boy of 
 nineteen, an orphan and penniless save for the 
 old violin. I have been offered large sums for it 
 many times, but through it all I have never parted 
 with it. In leaving home I renounced all claim to 
 my father's title and fortune. So I am without 
 ancestors or a home, and the name of Lonspetti, 
 given me by a teacher in Paris, has no associations 
 with the name of old." 
 
 This information he gave to a New York 
 reporter.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 HAD FATE DECREED 
 
 THE home of Lonspetti was as thoroughly un- 
 pretentious as its occupant. It consisted of two 
 rooms in a quiet boarding-house on Lexington 
 Avenue, a sitting room, and a bedroom. They 
 were on the fourth story of the house, which it is 
 unnecessary to add was the top one. In the sitting 
 room was a divan, an old-fashioned desk near the 
 window, a table with a banquet lamp on it, several 
 comfortable chairs, and two very antique-looking 
 wardrobes. In his bedroom was a small couch, a 
 dresser, and a solitary chair. Over the dresser 
 hung two faded photographs of Edythe as "Ju- 
 liet," taken the year of her marriage and retire- 
 ment, which with the exception of a drawing of 
 his violin in his sitting room were the only pic- 
 tures that adorned his apartment. Rodgers Court- 
 ney thought the appearance of the rooms desolate 
 as he knocked on the Signer's door that morning, 
 but he soon forgot the impression in the glad 
 welcome of the artist. 
 
 60
 
 HAD FATE DECREED 6 1 
 
 "I came informally, as you asked me to do," 
 said the clergyman, " not to see your home, but to 
 see you." 
 
 " As I desired," replied Lonspetti, motioning 
 him to a seat beside him at the window. "The 
 place suits me, and that's all that is required. A 
 goodly supply of windows for the summer time 
 and an open fire in the winter. Here my meals 
 are brought to me, everything in its season and at 
 my convenience. When I go out, no matter for 
 what length of time, whether hours or days, my 
 rooms appear in the best of order on my return, 
 and the maids have long vanished. I am never 
 asked on going out when my return may be 
 looked for, or my whereabouts questioned. It is 
 quite good enough for me." 
 
 As he spoke, two small gray heads pushed open 
 the half-closed door, and two pairs of eyes like 
 sapphires blinked at him from the hallway. 
 
 "Those are my cats," he said, "picked up in 
 an April snow flurry. Twins, I imagine," and he 
 rose to show Mr. Courtney their beauty. 
 
 " You like animals, then ? " said the clergyman, 
 as he took one from the Signer. " It is quite the 
 prettiest kitten I ever saw." 
 
 " I like every living thing," replied the Signer,
 
 62 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 dropping the twin into one of the large loose 
 pockets of his jacket. "They sleep there," he 
 said, "while I work. By the way, Mr. Courtney, 
 did I tell you that I have had a very flattering 
 offer to play in London in June ? " 
 
 " No, of course you will go ? " 
 
 " I suppose so. I must get to work again, 
 sooner or later, and this is too good an offer to 
 refuse. Then, too, I am thinking Miss Barattoni 
 will be there, and I could play for her opening. 
 The girl's voice depends so much on the worth 
 of her accompanist By the way," said the 
 Signor, "read the cablegram while I move the 
 table over for our lunch." 
 
 As he rose, two fluffy heads appeared above 
 the top of the pockets, and sniffed intelligently at 
 the word " lunch." The door was opened, and a 
 maid, almost by magic, appeared on the threshold 
 with a large silver waiter, which announced the 
 coming of good things. Bouillon, some cold 
 tongue, a fried spring chicken, some potatoes, 
 bread and butter, and claret. 
 
 " I hope this will be to your liking, Mr. 
 Courtney," said the Signor, as they sat down ; 
 " the menu would have awaited your order had I 
 known you were coming."
 
 HAD FATE DECREED 63 
 
 " I should not be so courteous to a tramp," 
 laughed Mr. Courtney. " Your hospitality gives 
 me so much home feeling that I shall fear to 
 impose upon you." 
 
 " Impose on an artist ! there is no such word 
 with us," chimed Lonspetti with his musical 
 laugh. "We Bohemians live for our friends, the 
 richest and the poorest, according to what he 
 has. I want you to be interested in us, and 
 our friend and counsellor in the world you live 
 in." 
 
 "I should fail as a counsellor," sighed the 
 young clergyman, " though I will make good the 
 deficiency as a friend. I thought I was learned 
 enough to preach before I met Mrs. Merrall. 
 Her questions have already showed me that to 
 be a great preacher and adviser I must think and 
 study deeply the mysteries and sorrows of human 
 life. I have no desire to live by the wit and ideas 
 of others. To form original ideas can be done 
 only with constant study and thought." 
 
 "As in everything," said the Signor, "there 
 is no end to study. It is in an encyclopaedia 
 with no last page. Those who claim they know 
 everything are just the ones to be pitied; their 
 heads are generally so crammed full with a little
 
 64 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 of everything, and no part complete, that to seek 
 resource in their knowledge is useless." 
 
 " I have met such people," said Mr. Courtney. 
 " Only yesterday a man told me that he had 
 almost learned the ' Encyclopaedia Britannica ' 
 word for word, and could repeat it with but barely 
 a reference." 
 
 " Is he in the home for the insane, or did you 
 put him to the test on the moment ? " 
 
 " No, he sailed on the Paris yesterday. I 
 went down to see him off." 
 
 " I am sorry he should have selected that of 
 all good ships," said the Signer ; " for the boat 
 will surely sink under such a load of knowledge, 
 and one of my old chums is a passenger." 
 
 The two men laughed, as they went on eating. 
 
 " While I think of it," said Lonspetti, after 
 a moment's silence, "don't you want to accom- 
 pany me to the Barattonis' this afternoon? I 
 have a rehearsal with Clare at three, and the 
 rehearsals are now far enough under way to be 
 enjoyable. Then, too, I am going to let them 
 decide about this London offer," and he put the 
 despatch back in his pocket as he spoke. 
 
 " I shall be only too happy," replied Courtney, 
 " if you do not think I shall be intruding. They
 
 HAD FATE DECREED 65 
 
 are always so kind to me, it is a privilege to go 
 there." 
 
 " And they want you to come, I assure you," 
 said Lonspetti, rising. "They often speak of 
 you." 
 
 " I wish I were one of you, with all my soul I 
 do," cried Courtney, with feeling. " Your kindred 
 interests help each other's work. It is an in- 
 centive to do your best." 
 
 "But we are Bohemians," said the musician, 
 "and in your work to be one would injure you 
 in every step you were to take. You must be 
 one with the world you ask bread of. There are 
 as many classes of Bohemians as the nations of 
 the earth, though the world is applied to all of 
 us alike. We cannot demand justice, we can 
 only work for it. Does not the term 'actor' or 
 ' actress ' apply to a degraded woman from the 
 slums who is seen at the low concert halls as well 
 as to Cushman, whose character and life was an 
 example for women to live up to? Because a 
 woman is earning her own living, with her life 
 so that all may read, must she be classed with 
 the fallen woman whose book is too stained for 
 inspection ? In my life I have met many ex- 
 cellent women, but two especially do I recall as
 
 66 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 the best women I ever expect to see this side 
 of the river. One is our mutual friend, Mrs. 
 Merrall, and the other is Camille Marie, the re- 
 tired tragedienne, who has been the guest of 
 royalty and of bishops. On the night of her 
 farewell to the stage I was present. It was in 
 Washington, and I shall ever remember it as the 
 greatest, most inspiring night of my life. I 
 knew her as the woman, simple, thoughtful, 
 generous, and home-loving. That night she was 
 a queen, tragic and powerful. On one side of 
 her, draped with your loyal stars and stripes, 
 was the President with four of his Cabinet. On 
 the other side sat the Governor of New York. 
 Representatives of the different nations then in 
 Washington attended as an event of the day. 
 And from the President down to the working 
 woman to whom she had given a ticket, came 
 the same greeting everywhere. ' I am here 
 because I know her, she is one of my friends.' 
 Many a. lesser light in the profession can place 
 a spotless life and career beside this tragedienne's ; 
 but she may not be appreciated for more than her 
 genius or beauty." 
 
 So the Signor talked on until the studio of the 
 three sisters was reached, and the two men hesi-
 
 HAD FATE DECREED 6/ 
 
 tated at the door. Clare was singing. From the 
 slightly opened door they could see her, and watch 
 her as she sang. But the spell is broken. 
 Edythe, beautiful in pale blue, emerges from her 
 room across from where they are standing. The 
 sunlight creeps to meet her in the doorway. It 
 shrinks back, for the gold of her hair makes it like 
 unto a shadow. 
 
 " The Signor has been detained," she said. 
 
 " Detained by the magic of a voice," he laughed, 
 as the two men entered, and greetings were ex- 
 changed. 
 
 Ghleska dropped in a moment later, was intro- 
 duced to the young clergyman, and had found a 
 seat with him near the piano, when the rehearsal 
 began. Over and over again the same song they 
 went, though it was ever new in the charm of such 
 an atmosphere. 
 
 Then the singer rested, and the voice of the won- 
 derful violin was heard in a solo. The words might 
 have been these : 
 
 " Say au revoir, but not good-by, 
 For parting brings a bitter sigh. 
 The past is gone, though memory gives 
 One clinging hope the future lives. 
 Our duty first, love must not lead 
 What might have been, had fate decreed.
 
 68 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 'Twere better far, had we not met. 
 I loved you then I love you yet." 
 
 It was a favorite song of Lonspetti's, and one 
 which expressed his own sentiments. The Signer 
 loved Edythe in an untiring love, her great beauty, 
 the softness of her eyes, and her voice. He had 
 always loved her, even through the years when he 
 rarely or never saw her. 
 
 To-day, as she leaned on the piano to listen to 
 him, he thought perhaps it would have been better 
 if he had never seen her. " 'Twere better far, had 
 we not met," sobbed the violin. " I loved you 
 then I love you yet." 
 
 The music died away. The young clergyman 
 rose with the rest to congratulate the Signer on his 
 wonderful playing. For a moment he stood close 
 to Edythe's side at the piano. " What would she 
 say if she knew how I cared for her ? " he was 
 thinking to himself as he stood there, and the ques- 
 tion must have passed into her mind, for she turned 
 and looked at him, and her look was of hurt sur- 
 prise. 
 
 The afternoon wore on. Dorothy came in at 
 four, laden with good things for supper, and a gen- 
 eral invitation for the feast went round. But Mr. 
 Courtney had a previous engagement to dinner,
 
 HAD FATE DECREED 69 
 
 and Clare was going to a reception down town. 
 So as the two went out, the Signer opened the 
 envelope Clare had put into his hands. 
 
 " Russell, London. Terms accepted. Will sail 
 on the loth. St. Louis, Lonspetti." 
 
 " So be it," he said, " the cable shall take it to- 
 night."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 THE PAINTER-IN-LITTLE 
 
 AMONG other signs of struggle and warfare on 
 an old frame dwelling in Sixteenth Street, now 
 used for offices and studios, was the following 
 
 one: 
 
 CHARLES LANDMAN. 
 
 Miniatures. 
 Room i , Fifth floor. 
 
 It was a small and rather inconspicuous sign, 
 but it told Mr. Landman's business and where- 
 abouts as clearly as the showier sign of new gilt 
 which was nailed above it : 
 
 THE ELITE STUDIO. 
 Miniatures, Portraits, Crayons. 
 
 Likeness guaranteed. 
 Rooms 6 & 8 , Second floor. 
 
 Mr. Landman noticed the new sign as he came 
 from his studio that morning. He had seen the 
 same space occupied by various others during his 
 three years there. There was never a week passed 
 but that some unfortunate moved away to make 
 room for some other genius to try his luck there. 
 
 70
 
 THE PAINTER-IN-LITTLE /I 
 
 Mr. Landman laughed at them all. He had 
 been so unfortunate himself, and so pursued and 
 overwhelmed by misfortune, that he had a sneer 
 for every one. He painted excellent miniatures, 
 but few people had heard of him. His work had 
 failed to reach the eyes and approbation of New 
 York's Four Hundred, and he railed against fate 
 when he mused on his failure. 
 
 He was hardly out of sight of the studio when 
 Edythe and Mr. Courtney sought out the dingy 
 little sign. 
 
 " It is here," said Edythe, as she stopped before 
 it. "Charles Landman, Miniatures. He was on 
 Broadway when I last knew of him. He was then 
 with Serrano." 
 
 They entered and mounted the well-worn stairs, 
 three long flights to the fifth floor. " There should 
 be an elevator," Mr. Courtney expostulated as 
 Edythe paused on the fourth flight. " How can 
 an artist ever expect people to undertake such 
 difficulties for him when there are other artists 
 nearer earth ? " 
 
 " But there are no expenses in heaven, we are 
 led to believe," came the quick reply, "and the 
 nearer one lives to it, the less he pays." 
 
 " That's an admirable epigram of yours, Mrs.
 
 72 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Merrall," laughed Mr. Courtney, " and a true 
 one." 
 
 Another long flight, and the studio was before 
 them. It was a large front room, and the door 
 was standing slightly ajar. A cool breeze wel- 
 comed them as they entered. 
 
 It was an artistic place, the home of this painter- 
 in-little. The walls were hung with Japanese 
 drapery, while the four corners of the room and 
 the skylight were screened from view by Japanese 
 umbrellas. A small oak chest in a corner held his 
 wardrobe, and a larger one, partly opened, revealed 
 kettles, pans, and crockery. There were two 
 divans in the room, a large screen, which shielded 
 a small gas stove from view, two or three prettily 
 draped chairs, a table, an easel, and a study lamp. 
 The floor was covered with a straw matting, and 
 pretty rugs were scattered here and there. But 
 nothing attracted Mr. Courtney's attention so 
 much as the two paintings that hung between the 
 windows. One was a colonial governor, the other 
 an officer on horseback, a general of 1812. With 
 imperious looks they held their haughty heads 
 above their Bohemian surroundings. Mr. Court- 
 ney was about to speak of them when he noticed 
 that Edythe had taken a seat near the window and
 
 THE PAINTER-IN-LITTLE 73 
 
 was reading a letter. He knew the contents, for 
 she had read it to him. 
 
 "Mv DEAR EDYTHE " (it began): 
 
 " The boys ask me to thank you for the books 
 and bonbons received last week. Maurice has 
 been out but once since we brought him here, and 
 then for a very short drive. He is no longer able 
 to walk, and his little remaining strength is pass- 
 ing. I do not think he realizes things as they are, 
 for he looks for your return every day. His one 
 wish to his father is for a picture of you. Perhaps 
 your sisters may have one, which, though not re- 
 cently taken, would be new to him. Geoffrey and 
 I would be very much gratified if you can send 
 
 one. 
 
 "Sincerely, K. H. M." 
 
 For Maurice's sake, she was to sit for a minia- 
 ture. Mr. Courtney saw her sigh as she folded up 
 her mother-in-law's letter again, and put it in her 
 pocket. 
 
 " Poor little boy ! " she thought, " if I only cared 
 for your father, but it was not your fault. Ah, 
 what we have to suffer for other people's mistakes ! " 
 
 She was musing thus, when Mr. Landman en- 
 tered. He was a short man, slight and dark. He
 
 74 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 brought with him into their presence a great feel- 
 ing of discontent and unhappiness. His guests 
 felt it as he entered. He came forward quickly, 
 shook hands with Edythe, and was introduced to 
 Mr. Courtney. 
 
 "I have been admiring these two old portraits 
 of yours," remarked the clergyman. " One seldom 
 sees such splendid faces." 
 
 The artist leaned back in his chair, and looked 
 at Mr. Courtney critically. 
 
 " You admire them because they are gentle- 
 men of the old school," he said. " Only a de- 
 scendant of good stock can appreciate them. 
 I see that you come of it." 
 
 Mr. Courtney bowed an acknowledgment. 
 
 " I know such when I see it," continued the 
 artist. " I come of an old family myself. I am 
 ashamed to belong to them for they were such 
 worthy men and women. Mrs. Merrall knows 
 my uncle, Admiral Landman, and my mother's 
 brother has represented this country at two 
 foreign courts." 
 
 "You interest me," said the clergyman. 
 
 The conversation drifted to other things, and 
 then to the object of their visit. " I have come 
 to have you paint my miniature," Edythe said
 
 THE PAINTER-IN-LITTLE 75 
 
 after a momentary silence. "I want it for a 
 present, and would like it as soon as you can 
 do it." 
 
 " Would to-morrow morning be convenient for 
 a sitting ? " said the artist 
 
 " You couldn't commence it to-day ? I am in 
 somewhat of a hurry for it." 
 
 " Hardly. I have one on hand that must be 
 finished and delivered by to-night." 
 
 "Then I will be here very early in the morn- 
 ing," said Edythe, as Mr. Courtney and she 
 rose to go. 
 
 " I will be ready," was the reply. Mr. Land- 
 man escorted them to the landing, apologizing 
 for the absence of an elevator. 
 
 Once out they talked of Landman and his 
 art. " He's a clever fellow," said Edythe, when 
 they were seated in a carriage on their way 
 home. "He is one of the world of unrecog- 
 nized geniuses, and his realization of the fact 
 has soured his entire nature." 
 
 " I felt the discontent when I shook hands 
 with him," said Courtney; "there is a look of 
 utter hopelessness in his eyes, which as he talks 
 turns to defiance. One would suppose the whole 
 world was against him."
 
 76 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " He has a fancy that it is," said Edythe. " I 
 feel for him for we have known him ever since 
 he came to New York. He has done some 
 very excellent work; but his sitters, I fancy, 
 are few and far between. New York is a 
 burying-ground for geniuses without money or 
 influence. I have sent him a good many sitters ; 
 but his acquired brusqueness and discontent were 
 not liked. He feels himself on an equal with 
 the best, and will not play your humble servant 
 to any but an aristocrat. It is a, poor policy." 
 
 "You would think that all these years of ex- 
 perience would have shown him his failings." 
 
 " If they have, he surely has not profited by 
 them." 
 
 At Fifty-sixth Street, Edythe, at Mr. Court- 
 ney's suggestion, got out and sauntered toward 
 the Park. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the 
 Park was filled with people, both on foot and 
 in carriages. 
 
 " I thought we ought to take advantage of 
 such a day for a walk," said Mr. Courtney. " I 
 imagine that you do not take much exercise." 
 
 Edythe laughed. " I take a brisk walk every 
 morning while half the city is yet sleeping." 
 
 They had sauntered into a little-used pathway
 
 THE PAINTER-IN LITTLE 77 
 
 to escape the dust of the carriages, and had 
 gone but a short distance when they came face 
 to face with another pedestrian, alone and think- 
 ing. It was the Rev. Thomas Mcllvaine, rector 
 of Calvary Church. 
 
 What his sensations were on meeting his assist- 
 ant with Mrs. Merrall are not recorded here. 
 He simply raised his hat and passed on.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 CHARITY 
 
 WHETHER the Rev. Dr. Thomas Mcllvaine 
 spoke to Mr. Courtney on the incident of the 
 past week is not known. There was a letter 
 for him in the doctor's handwriting on his study 
 table when he returned that evening ; but as 
 mutual work brought their interests together, it 
 may have been many things that demanded Mr. 
 Courtney's presence at the rectory that evening. 
 
 Whatever the nature of the visit, it was soon 
 over, and from the fact that Dr. Mcllvaine es- 
 corted his assistant part way home, and shook 
 hands pleasantly with him at parting, it is to 
 be supposed that the meeting had ended to 
 both men's satisfaction. 
 
 The miniature of Edythe had progressed with 
 the days, and on the forenoon that he was put- 
 ting the finishing touches to it, Mr. Landman 
 was surprised to see Mr. Courtney enter. 
 
 " I dropped in to see the miniature," he said, 
 78
 
 CHARITY 79 
 
 as an apology for the intrusion. " Our common 
 friend, Signer Lonspetti, told me it was worth 
 going a long journey to see." 
 
 " He exaggerated, then," said the artist, though 
 with a little more than usual enthusiasm in his 
 voice. "Of course I couldn't make a poor 
 picture with so beautiful a subject, though I 
 confess I found it difficult to do justice to her 
 colouring." 
 
 "She is an exceptionally beautiful woman," 
 said Mr. Courtney, as he came forward and took 
 the miniature in his hands. Mr. Landman saw 
 the young clergyman's face brighten as he looked 
 at it. " I never saw such a good likeness of 
 any one in my life," he said, "never," and his 
 words were true. 
 
 It was Edythe, the living and beautiful, that 
 glanced up at him from the ivory oval. There was 
 a sadness, a quiet look in the eyes which was so 
 individually hers. Her lips were slightly parted, 
 as if she were about to say something, when some 
 one else had ceased talking. The nose, every 
 feature was wonderfully realistic. 
 
 " So you like it ? " said Landman. 
 
 " I should admire it if I had never met or seen 
 Mrs. Merrall," was the reply. "There is inspira-
 
 80 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 tion in the face. By the way, Mr. Landman, when 
 you have time, don't you want to make me a dupli- 
 cate ? " Then he added : "I'm fond of miniatures. 
 I am starting a collection." It was on his tongue 
 to say that he had a collection ; but he had refrained 
 at just the right moment. 
 
 " I never do make duplicates of any of my pic- 
 tures," Landman said, after a moment's thought on 
 the subject. " I should prefer not to make the two 
 pictures alike." 
 
 " But I want mine like this one," Mr. Courtney 
 persisted. "You couldn't please me better than 
 to make an exact copy ; the two miniatures will 
 never come together, nor even know of each 
 other's existence. By the way, when did you 
 intend to take this to Mrs. Merrall ? " 
 
 " To-morrow afternoon," replied Landman. " It 
 is to go by special messenger to Newport on the 
 five-o'clock boat. However, I should be able to 
 do something toward a copy by that time." 
 
 " Do what you can," said Mr. Courtney, as he 
 took the artist's hand in parting, " and I will for- 
 ever be your debtor." 
 
 The artist continued at his work, and Mr. Court- 
 ney took a hansom to the Park, that paradise for 
 dreamers. In his thoughts was the face in the
 
 CHARITY 8 1 
 
 miniature the face of the only woman he had 
 ever loved. He acknowledged it to himself. It 
 was a relief to even think it, for his conscience was 
 troubling him as in truth it had never troubled him 
 before. His conscience had been warning and 
 advising him, and, like a stubborn child, he said 
 to it, " Whatever comes, I can't help it ; I love 
 her." Then conscience said to him, "She can 
 never be anything to you," and the thought 
 angered him. "What," he said to himself, "are 
 we put here for, if we can never attain our 
 desires ? " His conscience and his will were hav- 
 ing a hard mental battle. He almost wished he 
 had no conscience, as it interfered with every 
 thought of his, and every hope for the future. 
 " Keep at your work," said the voice, " keep at 
 your work." 
 
 In the Park he met many pedestrians like him- 
 self. Most of them looked happy and satisfied. 
 He noticed the young girls as they passed him, 
 and he saw how plain they all were to the singular 
 type of beauty he had met in Mrs. Merrall. It 
 seemed to him that she must be the only perfectly 
 beautiful woman in the world. He had never seen 
 such eyes as hers, or such a grace of manner and 
 bearing. To him, since he had known her, all
 
 82 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 women were awkward and commonplace. He 
 had watched her when she was not conscious of it, 
 on the street, in the house, and he noticed that 
 others were not slow in remarking of her beauty 
 when she passed. The shop girl would often ask 
 her to repeat an order just to hear her voice again, 
 and comment upon its sweetness afterward. Per- 
 haps her stage training had modulated her voice 
 into its wonderful expression, or it might have 
 been a natural gift ; at least, so Rodgers Courtney 
 thought it, as he strolled along and dreamed about 
 her. He wondered now how he could ever have 
 believed the stories of her insanity and jealousy 
 that he had heard in the drawing-rooms of his 
 parishioners. "A beautiful and talented woman," 
 he thought, " is always the target for evil speakers 
 and gossips." He did not endeavour to solve that 
 greater conundrum, Why she had left her home 
 and her children, and among them a dying boy, or 
 why At the present moment he didn't wish to 
 connect her with any other life than his. In his 
 heart he thought her blameless and misrepresented, 
 unselfish and unhappy; but all the time his con- 
 science was rebuking him, and he would not 
 heed it. 
 
 It had grown dark, and the Park had become
 
 CHARITY 83 
 
 deserted before Rodgers Courtney realized how 
 long he had been there. Something awoke him 
 to his surroundings, and he found himself still 
 walking and thinking. 
 
 But some of his thoughts that afternoon were 
 not in vain, for the following Sunday morning 
 the Reverend John Rodgers Courtney made for 
 himself a name in his calling, when he preached 
 to the congregation of Calvary Church one of the 
 most eloquent sermons of the day on the subject 
 of "Charity"
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 MADAME MARIE 
 
 THERE is a momentary stillness in the studio. 
 The artists are silent at their different occupations. 
 Lonspetti has for the moment ceased playing. 
 Ghleska is jotting down a passing inspiration. 
 The door opens, and a child, accompanied by a 
 woman in heavy crape, hesitates on the threshold. 
 It is Madame Marie. With one cry of joy the 
 artists rush to meet her. One after the other is 
 welcomed, each in their turn and in her affection. 
 " My friends, my dear, dear friends ! " she repeated, 
 " and all together as of old." 
 
 For a moment she was overcome with emotion, 
 and there were tears in all eyes save the child's. 
 She had very large, wide-open eyes, and she 
 regarded them all individually and with interest. 
 She had until now been greatly hidden by the 
 heavy folds of Madame Marie's crape veil, being a 
 small girl of six ; but she walked out from it now, 
 and crossed the room where Madame Marie's 
 
 84
 
 MADAME MARIE 85 
 
 portrait attracted her. " Grandmere," she said 
 with decision, "grandmere, that's you." 
 
 Then a laugh rang through the great studio. 
 " This is my granddaughter Consuelo," said 
 Madame, brightening up. " She is a stranger to 
 you, but she comes as a friend." The child turned 
 at the mention of her name, and smiled. She was 
 small, but she held herself with all the grace and 
 dignity of a princess. Her head was well poised. 
 She had remarkably fine, strong shoulders and a 
 beautiful face. " She is something like you, 
 Madame," said Lonspetti, as he took her up. 
 " She has your determined expression, the same 
 mouth, and the same broad, fine forehead." 
 
 "The determination of my youth," sighed 
 Marie. " I have come back to you a wreck of my 
 former self. I have been through every ill that 
 flesh is heir to." 
 
 " But you were all life and happiness when you 
 sailed away," said Ghleska. " I have been abroad 
 twice since then, but neither time were you near 
 London." 
 
 Edythe had removed the heavy bonnet and veil, 
 and the grand face of Camille Marie looked at them 
 with all her old-time beauty. " I wear crape for 
 my buried youth," she said, half smiling, as she
 
 86 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 loosened it. " Youth was so kind to me, she was 
 such a friend." 
 
 " As if she were not with you as of old," said 
 Lonspetti. " I never saw one so unchanged in my 
 life. The ten years of rest have released years 
 instead of adding them," and into the great gray 
 eyes there came a look of gratitude. 
 
 " Well, I intend to be myself again now that I 
 am back with you," said Marie, happily, as she 
 rose and sauntered about the room. " Emma 
 has come back to America and has gone to Balti- 
 more." 
 
 " But dear father isn't with us," said the child, 
 anxiously. 
 
 "Nor is he likely to be," added Marie. "The 
 longer he keeps away from us the more of a 
 gentleman I shall think him. The child hasn't 
 seen him for over two years ; yet she is always 
 reminding us of his unfortunate existence." 
 
 "Then the marriage was not a happy one?" 
 said Edythe. 
 
 " Happy," sighed the woman ; " it must have 
 been planned by the evil one himself. I find he 
 makes many marriages nowadays." 
 
 " He is a nice, nice man," said Consuelo. " He 
 is my father, and some day he is going to build
 
 MADAME MARIE 87 
 
 me a beautiful castle, and we are all to live there 
 together." 
 
 " I don't know where he expects to build it, 
 unless he has made some arrangements with 
 another world," said Marie, "and I don't propose, 
 with Heaven's help, to share another world with 
 him." 
 
 " But there is only going to be one heaven, grand- 
 mere," said the child, "and you are going there, 
 are you not ? " 
 
 " I am not bidden anywhere at the present 
 moment," laughed Marie, for the others were 
 laughing ; " but wherever I may go later, I have 
 enough confidence in Heaven to know that wher- 
 ever they place Frederic Lees, they will never ask 
 me." 
 
 Then the conversation turned to the artists, their 
 work, and their progress. " Clare was such a little 
 girl when I went away," said Marie. " I could 
 hardly realize her being the same girl you sent 
 over for study in Paris two years ago." 
 
 " Well, she has done splendidly," said Dorothy. 
 " She was abroad only a little more than a year, 
 and she names her own prices now." 
 
 Madame Marie smiled. " How grand success 
 is ! " she said. " My hopes and ambitions have all
 
 88 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 been realized, and are now bound volumes in my 
 life's bookcase. I can read them over, but I can 
 never rewrite or change them. I spoke a few 
 months ago in London at a young ladies' school 
 commencement I told them that all of them had 
 an ambition in life. We all have a right to build 
 our castles, for the property of the air is free and 
 without taxes. I have built mine, first in air, next 
 in resolution, and last in victory. ' Your ambition,' 
 I told them, ' can be no greater than mine. My 
 hopes lay in a somewhere, and I had to find out 
 which of the roads would lead me to safety. In 
 starting out in life, there are many roads. They 
 have all been trespassed, the narrowest pathway is 
 clear of weeds. "Which one shall I take?" you 
 ask as you see them. None of the roads has a 
 sign to mark it. One is the road you are seeking, 
 the others may lead to a wilderness. There are 
 thousands already stranded in their midst. The 
 road to success can only be found by work, real 
 work, pluck, and perseverance.' Since my retire- 
 ment," continued Marie, " I have seen and studied 
 much of human nature. It is a world of rivalry, 
 a game of chance, where influence is trump card. 
 Every field to-day is overcrowded ; the schools of 
 art, acting, painting, and singing are turning out
 
 MADAME MARIE 89 
 
 aspirants by the score. The ranks of literature 
 have for years been almost impassable. It is 
 impossible to reach the real genius in such long, 
 solid blocks of humanity. Is it then to be won- 
 dered at that genius must stand aside for money and 
 influence ? It is like a violet at the foot of a rock." 
 
 " And I have noticed," said Edythe, " that when 
 people have attained every success and power, 
 they seldom help struggling contemporaries." 
 
 " Quite so," said Madame ; "as a new star 
 awakeneth the astronomer, so a new genius 
 arouses the interest of the public. The morning 
 star has short life enough without dividing its 
 golden moments with another one. The public 
 is fickle ; it seldom adopts but one child at a time 
 twins wouldn't have a week's caressing." 
 
 " Quite so, quite so," echoed Lonspetti ; " let us 
 each share the throne of fame alone, for we are 
 hardly seated before we are told that the public 
 has found a successor. To be a ' fad ' means a 
 happy but a very short life." 
 
 " And to divide the precious time," said Ma- 
 dame, "no two stars can ever expect to shine 
 together in perfect peace and harmony outside of 
 heaven ; and even there we are told that one star 
 differeth from another star in glory."
 
 90 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 "Well, I don't expect or want to be a public 
 idol," said Edythe. " My idea in returning to the 
 stage is for the work and the love of it. I don't 
 expect or aspire to be your successor," she added, 
 as she turned to Madame Marie; "to be num- 
 bered among your friends is the nearest approach 
 I can make to greatness." 
 
 "I don't approve of people talking of other 
 men's cast-off clothing," laughed Madame, " espe- 
 cially their old shoes. They never fit. Each year 
 changes the cut of them, and often the originals 
 wear out all their good qualities before they reach 
 a successor. I approve of starting in life with 
 one's own boots. I know I had to break in a 
 new pair." 
 
 " I, too," added Ghleska. " When I commenced 
 my career, people said my method was a mad 
 one." 
 
 " You ought to be thankful that they gave you 
 credit for a method at all," suggested Madame. 
 " People used to say of Johann Ysaye that he 
 played only by inspiration, never the same piece 
 twice." 
 
 "Of course you know Ysaye's dead?" said 
 Dorothy. 
 
 " Yes," sighed Marie, " I was shocked to hear
 
 MADAME MARIE 91 
 
 of it. He never lived to prove his assertions that 
 he had discovered a new art in music. People 
 are always suspicious of discoveries." 
 
 As she spoke, she glanced about her. " Where 
 is Consuelo ? " she asked. " She is in mischief, 
 for I hear broken music." 
 
 " My Stradivarius ! " cried Lonspetti ; " my violin 
 has been taken away ! " 
 
 From the deep shadows of the studio came the 
 broken melody, and in a secluded corner Lon- 
 spetti discovered his unhappy violin. Consuelo 
 had it. She was sitting on a low ottoman, the 
 helpless instrument lay at her mercy across her 
 knees. Her small head was bent over it, and 
 between the troublesome curls her small white 
 fingers touched the strings. She rose at being 
 discovered and waited for approval. " I haven't 
 hurt it, Mr. Lonspetti," she said, as they all looked 
 at her. " I wouldn't have touched it, but I love 
 music so." 
 
 Lonspetti's look of fear turned to love for the 
 child. " She shall hear me play," said the Signer ; 
 " but we must wait for Clare, who will be back 
 presently." 
 
 " Then she inherits your love and her mother's 
 for music," said Edythe, as the violin was
 
 92 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 removed to a safer place. "It is a rich inheri- 
 tance." 
 
 Madame Marie sighed. " Sometimes I think 
 it is not," she said. " Her mother with all her 
 genius has never made her expenses. It has been 
 a continual clearing of my bank account, though." 
 
 " Money begets money, you know," said 
 Dorothy. " One can't do anything in the world 
 without it." 
 
 " Well, I know that I had no bank account to 
 draw on when I commenced my career," said 
 Madame, "and every cent I made was well earned. 
 
 " If I had been a wise woman, I should have 
 bought Emma's operas outright and burnt them. 
 It would have been a small sum to acting as 
 backer and banker for them, and then there would 
 have been less lost" 
 
 " I like my mother's operas," suggested Con- 
 suelo, blushing. "They are very pretty." 
 
 " Well, every one will have a chance to decide 
 as to that," laughed Madame. " Emma will be 
 in New York next week to get together some 
 singers, for she expects to tour the principal cities 
 with her operas this fall ; and if successful, of 
 course will try New York." 
 
 " She was successful with her ' La Belle Fleu-
 
 MADAME MARIE 93 
 
 rette/ " said Edythe, " and that was twelve or 
 more years ago. I remember how well she con- 
 ducted it." 
 
 " She ought to have remained in this country," 
 said Madame, " instead of going abroad. For- 
 tune cannot be tampered with. I believe in 
 staying when one strikes gold. There is a tide 
 in the affairs of men which taken at the flood 
 leads on to fortune." 
 
 " And there is a time at the close of day which 
 taken at the call leads on to supper," echoed 
 Clare. " Come, it is ready." 
 
 Ghleska, who had until now been composing, 
 came out of the darkness to join the rest, and 
 supper proceeded. 
 
 After that there was music. Lonspetti played 
 his " wonder violin," much to the delight of Con- 
 suelo. Ghleska also played, Clare sang, and 
 Madame Marie told anecdotes. The child Con- 
 suelo fell asleep on a divan. 
 
 " I'm going to hunt up my trophies," said 
 Madame, as she looked about her, " and give Lon- 
 spetti and Clare a send-off in true royal fashion 
 next week. Emma will be back on Monday, and 
 we can have the affair Tuesday night." 
 
 They all applauded the announcement. " Mean-
 
 94 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 while I'll hunt up my worldly goods and friends, 
 and each and all of you invite your colleagues." 
 
 "And we'll invite the Mather sisters, won't 
 we, Grandmere ? " said a sleepy voice from the 
 divan. 
 
 " Yes, pet, the little Mathers surely, the two 
 sweetest girls in the world. Consuelo is wild 
 over them," she added, turning. "We met them 
 in London, and fortunately came over on the same 
 steamer with them on returning home." 
 
 "Are they the twin sisters Mather, or an 'imi- 
 tation ' ? " said Ghleska. 
 
 "They are an imitation of each other only," 
 replied Madame, "none other. They captured 
 London, king and peasant. They were enter- 
 tained at Marlborough House and many ducal 
 houses, and they are but seventeen." 
 
 " It is wonderful how American artists are 
 recognized abroad," said Ghleska. " How true it 
 is that a man is not without honour save in his 
 own country." 
 
 " Yes," said Madame, "yet to his own country he 
 looks for what is greater than fame, protection. 
 No matter how many thousands of miles I am from 
 home, I always have in my room the stars and 
 the stripes."
 
 MADAME MARIE 95 
 
 Lonspetti sighed. " I am a man without a 
 country and without a home. My family have 
 taken my name from the record as one unknown, 
 and I have done nothing to deserve it. I often 
 wonder when I pass from this world how I am to 
 be known and recognized in another. Lonspetti 
 is not my name, neither have I the one I was 
 born under. I have no wife or children to share 
 another existence with me, so I suppose I shall be 
 classed among the numberless unfortunates as a 
 stranger and unknown." 
 
 Edythe wiped the tears from her eyes. Lon- 
 spetti had taken up his violin to depart, and as he 
 did so he drew the bow across the magic strings. 
 " And I shall be denied even this in another 
 existence," he said, as he finished, and he put it 
 tenderly in its case. 
 
 Madame Marie put on her bonnet and awak- 
 ened the child. Ghleska was to accompany them 
 home, and so they all started together. Consuelo 
 put her little arms around each of the artists' 
 necks and kissed them good night. Then she 
 groped with half-closed eyes for the hallway, 
 where the others awaited her. Edythe noticed 
 it, and went forward. " She is too sleepy to go, 
 Marie," she said, as she took her up. " Let her
 
 96 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 stay here with us, and I'll bring her over in the 
 morning." 
 
 " Tres bien," said Madame, and then they all 
 said good night again, and were gone. 
 
 And against the heart refused to her own chil- 
 dren, Edythe held the child Consuelo that night.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 STARLIGHT ON SHORE 
 
 " To a short life, but a merry one." 
 
 IT is a vast, dimly lighted apartment. Shadows 
 are lurking in the corners. It is nearing time 
 for them to be away, for soon the guests come, 
 bringing with them music, life, and merriment. 
 Shadows are ghosts ; the living must not be re- 
 minded of any future existence such a night as 
 this. 'Tis no time for other thoughts than the 
 present. Fill up the glasses and drink, together 
 and with one spirit, for to-morrow we pass on 
 with no further word. 
 
 Madame Marie enters and at a slight pressure 
 of a button floods the long rooms with light. She 
 is a striking contrast to the colours that are about 
 her. Her dress is black; the square-cut bodice 
 is of English crape ; the long train is bordered 
 with it, and there are heavy folds of it about the 
 small white wrists. On one shoulder is a jew- 
 elled decoration with " Marie " in diamonds which 
 
 97
 
 98 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 somewhat relieves the sombreness. Below it is 
 an immense sunburst with a ruby centre of rare 
 value. An arrow of the same crosses the waist 
 from the other shoulder, where a small jewelled 
 bird is resting as if to take flight ere a moment. 
 It is a dress that only Camille Marie could have 
 planned, and only she of all women could grace 
 with such effect. Her heavy Titian hair, a vic- 
 tory of age over youth, is dressed high. There 
 is a heavily carved comb of tortoise shell on one 
 side. Madame Marie has said, "When youth 
 leaves, it generally takes some of its best clothes 
 with it ; but when youth is in love with a beautiful 
 woman, she holdeth him at her will." 
 
 No queen ever had the regal bearing of the 
 great tragedienne. Her step, her mere crossing 
 of a room was an education in itself. She had 
 held the attention of audiences by her mere 
 presence and magnetism. She never acted, she 
 became the woman she was impersonating. When 
 a woman can take an audience back with her to 
 historical times; can raise up a memory so vivid 
 that it has new life and the seeming same heart 
 and face ; can tell her wrongs so that genera- 
 tions long after her suffer, then she may be called 
 an actress. Such was the power of Marie.
 
 STARLIGHT ON SHORE 99 
 
 As she looked about her, she marvelled at the 
 transformation of the rooms. A great palm 
 reaching to the frescos of the ceiling was in the 
 centre of the room, other palms stood in every 
 nook and corner. Madame Marie had directed 
 too many stage effects not to be a master of art 
 in the beautiful. About the two rooms were 
 souvenirs of her wonderful stage reign, and gifts 
 of all kinds from the greatest to the humblest of 
 men. The collection had never been seen to- 
 gether before. The great collection of rare china 
 and laces on which Madame Marie had spent a 
 fortune was in glass cases in one of the smaller 
 rooms. "They represent a wild fortune and extrav- 
 agance," Madame Marie has said ; " but why not 
 our fads and fancies, the earth stay is so uncer- 
 tain and hurried ? " There are some portraits 
 about the room : one of the child Consuelo, a 
 dream face of four-year-old babyhood. The 
 only colour about the portrait of pink skin and 
 yellow curls is a bunch of four large, well-pro- 
 portioned pink roses resting on the lace. Her 
 dark eyes are a striking contrast to the face. 
 There is a portrait of Sardou, also a portrait of 
 ex-Queen Margherita of Italy, presented to her 
 by her Majesty on Marie's Italian tour, the year
 
 100 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 of her retirement. There are miniatures in a 
 small glass case beneath it. One of them is of 
 the Princess of Wales encased in pearls. A ruby 
 bracelet also given her by the Princess is laid 
 with it. A miniature of Patti and one of 
 Bernhardt are among them, and so on, a case 
 of notables, royal and artistic. But all of Madame 
 Marie's tokens of her triumph and fame cannot 
 be shown to effect in an ordinary apartment. 
 Why, too, make to-night an exhibition of curiosi- 
 ties rather than a night of meeting and old 
 friendships renewed ? On the large wide floors 
 are small Daghestan and Persian rugs, movable at 
 a moment's notice. Behind the Steinway grand, 
 on a high marble pedestal, stands a marble 
 figure of Peace, an Italian work of art. Directly 
 opposite to it, surrounded by musical instruments 
 and shielded by a silken cord, is a bronze statue 
 of Cupid, the god of love. Everywhere are 
 chairs and tete-a-tetes, and yet the rooms are 
 but little filled, and the size seems to increase as 
 one looks about them. 
 
 Consuelo enters and stands in admiration on 
 the threshold. She is dressed in white lace, 
 skirts that barely touch the knees and very full. 
 Her neck and arms are bare, save for the curls
 
 STARLIGHT ON SHORE IOI 
 
 which fall everywhere about her shoulders with 
 delightful charm and persistence. There are 
 some violets at her sash, a few others are caught 
 in a large bow on one shoulder. 
 
 "The rooms are pretty, grandmere," she says 
 naively, " I like them." 
 
 "They are not so pretty when you are out of 
 them," says Marie, and the child blushes with 
 all the charm of her childhood. 
 
 " Is your mother dressed and ready," asks 
 Marie, " or still writing ? " 
 
 " She has gone out," said the child. " She went 
 out before I came down." 
 
 " Gone out ! " was Madame's exclamation. 
 "What could she have been thinking of? the 
 guests will be here in less than an hour." 
 
 " She'll be home before that time," says Consuelo, 
 measuring herself with a tall palm near the door- 
 way, and finally succeeding by standing on tiptoe 
 in knocking it over. 
 
 But Madame has no heart to rebuke her, and 
 with the child's assistance succeeds in placing it 
 once more on its pedestal. 
 
 " When you grow up, Consuelo dear," she said, 
 placing her hand on the child's wee shoulder, 
 " promise me, that no matter how great the inspi-
 
 102 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 ration or temptation, that you won't write operas or 
 musical scores of any kind. Your mother may be a 
 genius; but spare me from any more in the family." 
 
 " I'll promise, grandmere ; for when I grow up, 
 I'm going to marry a rich prince who'll buy me 
 everything I can possibly wish for." 
 
 " See that you don't forget your promise, young 
 woman," laughed Marie, rearranging the stems of 
 some beauty roses that had not been fixed to her 
 liking. 
 
 The child came nearer. " Grandmere," she said 
 softly, " is that nice gentleman who walked home 
 with us yesterday coming to-night ? " 
 
 " Mr. Courtney, you mean ? I hardly think so. 
 He said he would come if he could, but he hardly 
 thought that possible." 
 
 " I liked him, didn't you, grandmere ? " but 
 before Madame could reply, the door opened, and 
 the child's mother entered. 
 
 " I had to go down town for these," she said, 
 holding up some music sheets. " I have a lot of 
 writing to do in the morning," then noticing her 
 mother's anxious look, she added : " Come, Connie, 
 dearest, upstairs and help me fix up for society. 
 Oh, mother, I'm a trial ; but through trials we learn 
 the full value of happiness."
 
 STARLIGHT ON SHORE 103 
 
 With the speaker had come a pleasant influence. 
 She was a handsome woman, this daughter of 
 Madame, and though she lacked her mother's regal 
 bearing, she was very distinguished looking. She 
 was somewhat taller than Marie. She had a slight, 
 willowy figure, which, it was said, never showed 
 to better advantage than when she conducted an 
 orchestra. Her face was oval, and lighted up with 
 enthusiasm when she talked. She wore her hair, 
 which was slightly gray, short about her face. Her 
 features were considered by sculptors to be fault- 
 less. She never affected any other colour than 
 black. An Italian artist once painted her portrait 
 and called it "Inspiration"; a sculptor chiselled 
 her in marble and named it "Genius." Although 
 Marie considered her career an idle one, it had 
 been by no means uneventful. She had been 
 the first woman to conduct an orchestra in the 
 United States, and that with a programme consisting 
 entirely of her own compositions. She had com- 
 posed four operas which had had a moderate suc- 
 cess, and were still being played in the provinces ; 
 and although she had never gained the position to 
 which her genius entitled her, nevertheless she had 
 succeeded in making a reputation for herself which 
 was by no means a passing one. Emma Marie
 
 104 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 followed no paths or rules chosen and succeeded 
 in by her predecessors. She had been called 
 erratic and a failure as often as she had been hailed 
 as a genius, but little cared she. 
 
 " Only cowards run at the smell of powder," she 
 once said. " I sometimes think that a cannon ball 
 would be the only thing that could remove me from 
 the field of action." 
 
 It might be well told here of a concert she 
 was to give in a certain Southern city where 
 another musical director was expected the same 
 week. 
 
 " Though we were not friends," as she expressed 
 it, " I didn't expect any trouble, since my date had 
 been arranged upon in the early winter, and his 
 somewhat later, so I was told. However, when he 
 heard of my expected visit in the city, he decided 
 to appear on the same night as myself, and con- 
 vince the public of the superiority of his work 
 over mine. His pictures were scattered so broad- 
 cast over the town, and the advertisements appeared 
 so important in the daily papers, including some 
 notices derogatory to my work, that the night 
 before the concert an enterprising editor, God bless 
 him, who had been silently watching it all, came 
 out with a fine editorial on what a woman could do,
 
 STARLIGHT ON SHORE 105 
 
 and what a man had done ; and the result of that 
 two-column editorial was a packed house for the 
 woman guest of the city, with the 'Standing 
 Room ' sign in plain evidence." But I am digress- 
 ing.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 "'TIS BUT REMEMBRANCE" 
 
 SOMEWHERE there is a clock chiming nine. 
 As the last sound dies away, there is a sound of 
 carriage wheels, then the sound of others, for the 
 night is beginning. 
 
 Madame Marie, unattended, awaits the guests 
 in the drawing-room. The first arrival is M. 
 Vachenhoff, a Russian novelist. He appears ill 
 at ease when he discovers himself in the unhappy 
 predicament of being the first arrival; but Madame 
 soon assures him that his punctuality is appre- 
 ciated, and that she considers herself honoured by 
 his presence among them. The next arrivals were 
 ladies, as were the next and the next. The little 
 Mather sisters had arrived and were being es- 
 corted to the dressing-room by Consuelo, who 
 greeted the guests of the evening at the foot of 
 the staircase. Many were the kisses she gra- 
 ciously bestowed upon the ladies, and many a 
 smile did she offer as greeting to the men. 
 
 1 06
 
 "'TIS BUT REMEMBRANCE" 107 
 
 " She's going to be a heart breaker, Madame," 
 laughed the latest comer, a Mr. Newson from 
 Boston, whose success in life had been as a 
 painter of children. "I'll never woo sleep till 
 I put my first sight of that child on canvas." The 
 child overheard this and laughed again at him 
 with her bewitching gray eyes. 
 
 But thought of him was soon forgotten in the 
 coming of others, and Mr. Newson later saw her 
 bestow a very affectionate kiss and hug on an 
 older man, whom he discovered later was the 
 Signor Lonspetti. " He's a great friend of mine," 
 the child shyly volunteered when she caught him 
 laughing at her. " That's Mr. Lonspetti and his 
 wonder violin." 
 
 " And who was the pretty lady with him ? " 
 " Mrs. Merrall, another friend of mine." 
 " Then these people are all known to your 
 little highness ? As yet, they are strangers to 
 me." 
 
 " Grandmere says to meet in a friend's house 
 is an introduction in itself, and needs none 
 other." 
 
 Mr. Newson's quiet tete-a-tete with the child 
 on the staircase was interrupted by the coming 
 of others, so he withdrew to the parlours. They
 
 108 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 were already rapidly filling up, and the spirit of 
 life and merriment was like a tonic in the air, 
 and yet the night was but a new-born thing. 
 
 Ghleska had arrived and was soon deep in a 
 discussion with a fellow-artist whom he had 
 " picked up " at a musicale that afternoon. Lon- 
 spetti, near the door, was awaiting Edythe, who 
 was still in the dressing-rooms. She came down 
 presently, accompanied by Emma Marie, and to- 
 gether they went into the music room. " Emma 
 tells me that she leaves for Chicago to-morrow," 
 Edythe said to the Signer. 
 
 " My flitting to and fro is an old story, isn't it, 
 Signor ? I'm never long enough in a place to see 
 the paper for the day, much less read it. While 
 I was in the provinces my treasurer absconded, 
 my advance agent turned out to be a ' fizzle,' 
 and for two entire weeks I filled the r61es of 
 composer, directing manager, orchestra leader, 
 press agent, advance agent, treasurer, and a dozen 
 minor parts too numerous to mention. When I 
 wasn't at the town ahead arranging for the next 
 day's performance, we were playing one-night 
 stands then, I was either in the town where 
 we* were playing keeping things going there, or 
 in the town we had just left settling up old scores.
 
 "'TIS BUT REMEMBRANCE" 109 
 
 It was lively business. I shall never forget one 
 'particular night. I had been all day in a town 
 where we had played the night before, had come 
 back just in time to get things started for that 
 evening's performance, broken in a chorus girl 
 to take the place of my prima donna who was 
 ill, looked up several new men for the orchestra, 
 and when the affair was over, and the accounts 
 settled, I had just one hour and six minutes to 
 rest before the company left for the next stop- 
 ping place, a distance of several hundred miles. 
 Will you believe it, that all the sleep I got that 
 night was on a chair just inside the door of my 
 room with my head resting on a newspaper of 
 the provinces, for I hadn't time to reach the bed, 
 and even in my few moments' sleep that night 
 I was booking dates ahead ? " 
 
 The Signor laughed merrily. " No wonder 
 you hold so unique a position," he said. " I 
 always appreciate women's work. As I said last 
 evening at a toast given at a Woman's Club 
 reception : ' To women, God bless them. With- 
 out their power, love, and influence, countries 
 would fall ; for only through them can we men 
 conquer what we will.' " 
 
 There were several came up to greet the trio
 
 1 10 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 at this, and to welcome Miss Marie back from 
 her European trip. But the conversation was 
 interrupted by the sound of music. From an 
 outer room there comes the sound of the tuning 
 of the strings of several instruments, the sound 
 of a cornet: the night was making good her 
 promises to Marie and to herself. Outside, 
 barred from the gayety within, the stars are all 
 out, and the big round moon seems to be there 
 only to keep a watchful vigil over them, lest some 
 of them be enticed to earth. 
 
 To the guests of that evening the night was one 
 to be remembered. It was one of those nights 
 that it is good to dream about. Something that 
 is not blotted out with the years. Marie called it 
 only a home gathering, and as such she designated 
 it on her invitations. People met who had not met 
 before or for years, and many long-lost friendships 
 were renewed. The music lent new hope and in- 
 spiration to those who had defaulted from the 
 ranks. 
 
 Such a night to be appreciated must be lived. 
 Perhaps Lonspetti had in mind the face of the 
 woman he loved when he held his audience spell- 
 bound and mystified that night by his rendering of 
 "'Tis but Remembrance." The old violin told of
 
 "'TIS BUT REMEMBRANCE" ill 
 
 the meeting and the parting of the lovers, and 
 Clare's voice in the distance sympathized and sang 
 with it in perfect harmony. It was the old, too 
 old story of anger, hopeless remorse, long years 
 and then but remembrance. It seemed often in 
 the magnetism of that old instrument as if an un- 
 seen power were guiding it, for something in its 
 tone or its tremor invariably brought the worst 
 sceptic to thinking of the only perfect love and 
 the Cross. It was no small wonder that among 
 the toasts given that night at the supper table 
 one was proposed most appropriately to " the old 
 Stradivarius, dreamer and philosopher, and to the 
 master of players, Signor Lonspetti." 
 
 It is not always the influence of a church that 
 causes reflection, or the weight of a priest's teach- 
 ing that makes us wiser. Sometimes, ay, often, 
 the best lessons the heart can learn and understand 
 are those that come to us in the busy everyday 
 life midst pleasures and sorrows common to us all. 
 
 As Marie has told us, and perhaps wisely, " The 
 church has an immense congregation; but the 
 weight lies in whether they are believers or fol- 
 lowers." 
 
 Edythe had never been so moved as to-night, so 
 she confessed to herself as she stood in a large bay
 
 112 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 window in the front room where she could listen 
 and reflect without interruption. That familiar 
 passage in the prayer-book came to her over and 
 over again, "We have erred and strayed from 
 thy ways like lost sheep." 
 
 There were a few passers-by even at that hour 
 of midnight, when the new day, fresh with its 
 hopes and promises, was taking possession of the 
 universe. Several men, heart heavy and tired, 
 Edythe thought them, stopped for a moment at 
 the house to listen to the music within, and then 
 being refreshed, passed on and were lost to sight 
 again; but among them there was only one she 
 recognized, and he was in the dress of a clergyman.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 A PLEA FOR THE FUTURE 
 
 A DAY or two after the reception Mr. Courtney 
 presented himself at Madame's apartments. " I 
 came in to thank you for your goodness in remem- 
 bering me with an invitation," he said cordially, 
 as they met and shook hands. " I wanted to come, 
 but at the last moment I was called to a dying 
 man's bedside." 
 
 " And I am sure carried peace with you. Sev- 
 eral inquired for you that night, among them our 
 friend, Signer Lonspetti." 
 
 Rodgers hoped she was going to say some one 
 else, and was disappointed. He took a seat near 
 her in the large bay window, and there they talked 
 of the reception and its people. " I passed the 
 house about midnight," Mr. Courtney ventured, 
 "on my way home, and the music I heard still 
 lingers in my memory." 
 
 " It was undoubtedly the Signer," said Madame. 
 " I sometimes wonder if his violin is but a mere in- 
 ns
 
 114 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 strument as he claims it. There is a supernatural 
 influence about it that aside from its rare tone is 
 magnetic. It never fails to throw a hypnotic in- 
 fluence over its listeners; it has a strange, sweet 
 way of telling a story ; it appeals to the heart 
 when the human voice would fail in its mission." 
 
 " He does not play much in public," said Mr. 
 Courtney. 
 
 " No, but little. His stay in London is but a 
 fleeting one. He is only going over on Clare's 
 account. His playing will add much to her being 
 a success there, and he realizes it." 
 
 The door opened, and Edythe and Consuelo 
 stood before them. " Consuelo has brought me 
 home to tea," Edythe said, as she came forward 
 and greeted Madame and Mr. Courtney. " Connie 
 has been inviting quite a party while out this 
 afternoon." 
 
 " Yes, grandmere, and all such dear friends, 
 Signor Lonspetti, Mr. Ghleska, Edythe's two sis- 
 ters, and Mr. Newson." 
 
 Madame smiled approvingly. " A wise selec- 
 tion," she said. "Then, Mr. Courtney, you will 
 surely join our gathering at supper ? " 
 
 " I should like to if I had not made an engage- 
 ment to be at the Girls' Friendly Society this
 
 A PLEA FOR THE FUTURE 115 
 
 evening," he said slowly. " If it were not for that, 
 nothing would give me so much pleasure." 
 
 " But does not the Girls' Friendly meet every 
 week ? " suggested Consuelo, anxious for him to 
 remain. " Can't you be sure and go next time ? 
 I'm sure they'd forgive you just this once." 
 
 " If it were only once to overlook and forgive 
 me," said the young clergyman, taking the little 
 girl's hands tight in his, " I'd love to stay because 
 you've asked me to." 
 
 " And you will, won't you ? " said the child, 
 eagerly, smiling on him with all the charms of 
 her childhood and beauty. "You can tell them 
 at the next meeting that two of your dear friends 
 were going abroad the next day, and that was 
 your last chance to see them before they sailed." 
 
 "And you think they'd forgive me?" 
 
 " They'd be glad you stayed," promptly replied 
 Consuelo. And so he consented. 
 
 Edythe and Marie were standing in another 
 part of the room, looking out of a window. 
 Mr. Courtney turned from the child to look at 
 them. Edythe was standing with her back against 
 the curtains, through which the afternoon sun stole 
 as if to catch a glimpse of her. Mr. Courtney 
 thought as she stood there that she must be the
 
 Il6 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 type of a woman men live for; ay, die for. 
 She was a woman to be loved and to be pro- 
 tected. There was an innocence in the repose 
 of her face that was appealing. In her eyes 
 a softness lingered which men ever admire. Per- 
 haps it was because she had suffered that he 
 cared for her, and in his love for her he over- 
 looked and forgot the suffering she had brought 
 to others. Tis said that "love is blind," but 
 Madame Marie is so fond of quoting her own con- 
 tradiction, that love is not blind, but the foolish 
 who follow him. As she has said : " People in 
 love are very apt not to notice how the wind 
 blows. It is as injurious to the ear and the eye- 
 sight as old age is, and perhaps as much to be 
 dreaded." 
 
 Wise woman philosopher ! It is not known or 
 chronicled whether she believed all the things 
 she professed to believe, or whether she gave 
 serious thought to any one topic. Her conversa- 
 tion was versatile, and as witty as wise. It was 
 said of her that a remark carelessly made by her 
 at a dinner in Washington cost a winning candi- 
 date for the presidency the election; but it was 
 only one of many stories circulated by the 
 opposing party.
 
 A PLEA FOR THE FUTURE 117 
 
 To Madame Marie is credited the saying that 
 " election time is when the fairy tales are revised 
 for the adults, and the party who tells them the 
 most happily gets in. It is a case of hypnotizing 
 the controlling votes, those of the workingman." 
 She was particularly happy in her remarks that 
 night, and Mr. Courtney wished more than once 
 at the tea-table that he could find an opportunity 
 to put some of them down. One passing remark 
 of hers offered in behalf of the felines' midnight 
 club, that the cats were only repeating at night 
 the scandal they'd heard in the daytime, he 
 jotted down on a timely discovered visiting card, 
 and trusted to his memory to treasure the rest. 
 
 It was a bright company that Consuelo had 
 invited there that night. She was a small girl, 
 but a very wise one. Marie had practically 
 brought her up, and the child was like a miniature 
 of the famous actress. She was clever, far-seeing, 
 and showed all the traces of a careful training. 
 " Emma isn't half the business woman Connie 
 is," Madame laughed, as her eyes rested on the 
 child beside her. " I often call her the hope of 
 my old age." 
 
 And with this remark the supper came to an 
 end, and from the merry stories told at the supper
 
 Il8 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 table the conversation drifted to things material. 
 Consuelo was kissed and she went to bed, and 
 Mr. Newson, having made a theatre engagement, 
 left shortly after supper. " Quite a clever fellow," 
 Dorothy said when he had gone. " His pictures 
 of children are something wonderful. Have you 
 seen his collection ? " this addressed to Mr. 
 Courtney. 
 
 He admitted that he had not, in fact was not 
 aware that the collection was being exhibited 
 in New York. " So many picture exhibits are 
 going on all the time," he added, " that unless 
 one is particularly interested in the artist, they 
 are overlooked." 
 
 "By some yes," she added. "I admire him 
 not only for his work, but his perseverance. He 
 believes as I do that the greatest ambition in 
 life is attainable." 
 
 " And I am beginning to doubt it," said 
 Lonspetti. " My conviction, like a faith, has 
 always been that all things were possible. I 
 believe now that fate only favours a few, a very 
 few." 
 
 " That is only a passing fancy," said Edythe. 
 " I should sink if my faith didn't cling to that 
 hope. It has been such a comfort to me since
 
 A PLEA FOR THE FUTURE 119 
 
 the night you told me of it ; perhaps you remem- 
 ber the circumstance ? " 
 
 " But a raft cannot save all who cling to it. 
 One cannot live on hope forever. With you 
 life is young, is promising; with me it is differ- 
 ent." 
 
 "You talk as if you were the father of Methu- 
 selah," said Madame, hoping to rouse him. 
 
 " I shall be forty-one to-morrow," he said, " an 
 age when a man should have accomplished some- 
 thing if he ever expects to do so. It finds me 
 still a dreamer. I often wonder if in a future 
 existence we shall ever know some of the whys 
 and wherefores of this life. Mr. Courtney, as 
 a representative of the church, you may be able 
 to enlighten me." 
 
 " I think we shall," the young clergyman said 
 earnestly, for all eyes were upon him for the 
 answer. " I believe there all things will be made 
 clear." 
 
 "It is good to believe in such a life," said 
 Ghleska, who was more of a thinker than a talker. 
 " Nothing interests me so much as this question of 
 the future. I think it is one that interests sceptics 
 and believers alike." 
 
 "Yes," said Marie, "for we live on the edge of
 
 120 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 a future, in the dawn of an awakening somewhere. 
 I am not a deeply religious woman, neither am I 
 an agnostic. When I die I expect to go on living 
 somewhere, and I hope to see all my friends again. 
 Unless we lose our life-wrought characteristics we 
 shall feel entirely at home together." 
 
 " You take the words of the Bible as literal, do 
 you not," queried Ghleska, "that we shall know 
 each other in the hereafter ? Perhaps I shouldn't 
 be the sceptic I am if I could be assured in any 
 way of a future. Those we love die, and while 
 the human heart hopes for a reunion, or for some 
 recognition to prove that death has not ended all, 
 no sign or message comes back to us, and hope 
 grows falsified with the years." 
 
 "But that does not prove that the dead do not 
 return," interrupted Mr. Courtney. "The instincts 
 and the physical conditions of the mortal man may 
 not be developed enough or able to recognize a 
 dead presence. We cannot expect a dead brother 
 to appear before us as one living. The mortal has 
 put on immortality ; and though I am confident that 
 the individuality of the man is not changed, or his 
 love or memory affected, yet I believe that the 
 failure to recognize each other is on our part, not 
 theirs. We are told in the New Testament not to
 
 A PLEA FOR THE FUTURE 121 
 
 mourn for the departed as those who are without 
 hope, for it assures us that we shall be reunited 
 with the loved and lost. David weeping over his 
 dead son said, ' I shall go to him, but' he shall 
 not return to me.' That this life must come to 
 an end we know, for there is no life without the 
 menace of death upon it, as there is no day with- 
 out a night ; and so we look to the soul which is in 
 all of us, and is immortal, for the reunion across 
 the threshold when all souls will be at peace, and 
 there will be but one faith, one fold, and one shep- 
 herd. Unfortunately, at present," continued Mr. 
 Courtney, "the atmosphere of the day is chilled 
 by a passing wave of unbelief; but this strong 
 protest against immortality is bringing religion 
 into bolder relief and proving clearly that not only 
 in time of peace and in war, but along all lines of 
 evolution, there is an unseen power ever working 
 and controlling the universe, a God who is allevi- 
 ating the burdens of mankind." 
 
 " I do not quite agree with you, Mr. Courtney, 
 much as I should like to do so," said Lonspetti, 
 "that this wave of unbelief is by any means a 
 passing one. It appears to be gaining a strong 
 hold on humanity that it will be hard for future 
 generations to overcome or surmount. The future
 
 122 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 of Christianity is clouded and can only be light- 
 ened when some of the barriers are removed, 
 servitude, oppression, wars, and fighting. I believe 
 that the time is coming when arbitration will take 
 the place of the sword in settlement of disagree- 
 ments, for only in an upward scientific trend will 
 man look to religion as the staff of all progress. 
 Life makes us what we are, doubter or believer. 
 Mine has made me somewhat sceptical," he said 
 sadly. " Love, strong and deathless, is the great- 
 est incentive this life holds, and yet many of us 
 like myself go through life searching for our 
 affinity and pass out with the dream unrealized. 
 If I should die to-night, I have hopes that I shall 
 go on living somewhere, and I believe that we are 
 conscious through the change. I do not fear 
 death, for in reality it is but passing to a new 
 country and to one's own. It would not be me if 
 I was unhappy among my friends." 
 
 " For one's friends mean home," sighed Marie. 
 " There is no man, to my thinking, even sceptic, 
 so firmly engrossed in his indifference to religion, 
 who does not share the human longing to plunge 
 into the mysterious future and bring back some 
 true tidings of the long unbroken silence. Every 
 man at some time in his life questions immortality,
 
 A PLEA FOR THE FUTURE 123 
 
 if only in his heart. It is not unreasonable that 
 he should, for the opinions of the universe on that 
 ever important subject are as diverse as the habits 
 and natural differences of the men who utter them. 
 The greatest thinker and philosopher of the world 
 would never make me believe that death ends all, 
 and that we pass out on a starless night, and then 
 into oblivion forever." 
 
 Through it all Edythe was silent. Clare believed 
 too fully in life's possibilities and an assured heaven 
 at the end even to give a thought of the impossible 
 the shadow of a doubt. She never cared to hear a 
 discussion on the future, but as Madame Marie once 
 told her, "To listen is a common courtesy, to 
 believe is another thing." 
 
 Ghleska broke the momentary silence that fol- 
 lowed, and then he addressed Lonspetti. 
 
 " Your heart must indeed be young to still believe 
 that there is an affinity for us all," he said rather 
 sadly. " I used to believe it when I was in the early 
 twenties ; but it was laughed out of me long ago. 
 Since then I've given more thought to my work." 
 
 " It must be work without a purpose then," said 
 the Signor, rising to depart, for the night was 
 growing late. " Perhaps some day you will 
 understand me better."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 ACROSS THE OCEAN FERRY 
 
 AND the next day the Signor and his wonderful 
 Stradivarius sailed away. He was one of the last 
 passengers to board the steamer, and when he did 
 so, his eyes fell upon the host of friends gathered 
 to say good-by. His expression of loneliness 
 and unhappiness changed to one of delight. 
 Edythe was among them, Clare, who was to sail 
 the following Saturday, Mr. Courtney, and fifteen 
 or twenty others. He greeted them each impul- 
 sively and heartily. "This is so unexpected, so 
 unlocked for," he said "and the flowers." There 
 were tears in the Signer's eyes when he saw them. 
 He had a sensitive nature, and was as easily 
 affected by such things as a woman. Madame 
 Marie was unable to come, at the last moment, so 
 Consuelo came with Edythe, and cried so hard 
 at parting with the Signor that every one in the 
 party became visibly affected. Two big tears 
 were in Edythe's eyes when she said good-by, 
 
 124
 
 ACROSS THE OCEAN FERRY 125 
 
 and it was evident, though the trip was to be a 
 very short one, that Lonspetti was loath to go. 
 "Take good care of yourself, Edythe," he said 
 kindly (it was the first time he had called her 
 Edythe since her marriage), "and keep up a 
 brave heart. Don't let the shadows of yester- 
 day's mistakes darken to-day or to-morrow. There 
 is much work for you to accomplish, and I am 
 coming back to help you do it." 
 
 He shook hands with Mr. Courtney next, and 
 then followed a general handshaking. The last 
 gong had sounded, and all but their party had 
 forsaken the vessel. 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine, who had come down to wish 
 some of his parishioners "god-speed," looked as if 
 his thoughts were more attracted to the little group 
 about the Signer, who were but a few feet distant, 
 than to the several of his own flock, and when he 
 left the steamer he was still looking over the pas- 
 senger list and wondering who that gentleman 
 could be. He was still debating between two pos- 
 sible names when the St. Louis departed for South- 
 ampton, leaving him in a brown study on the dock. 
 In the crowd about the Signor, to which his atten- 
 tion had been attracted by Mr. Courtney, he had 
 not noticed Mrs. Merrall, and would never have
 
 126 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 known of her presence there had he not seen Mr. 
 Courtney putting her into a carriage on his way 
 from the pier. 
 
 ******** 
 
 Clare sailed on the following Saturday and 
 looked as radiantly happy as the morning. Her 
 sisters were there to see her off, Madame Marie, 
 little Consuelo, Ghleska, and Mr. Newson. She 
 was all smiles and enthusiasm at going, and 
 Edythe thought as she looked at her that she 
 was really growing beautiful. 
 
 " I wish you were all going with me," she said, 
 with a certain archness that was as charming as it 
 was unaffected. " It seems odd to have to go in 
 search of fame and fortune in a strange land. 
 How true it is that ' a man is not without honour 
 save in his own country.' " 
 
 And the face that looked back to them, long 
 after the Teutonic had put to sea, was still smiling 
 and happy. 
 
 " How good, how good it is to feel happy ! ' ' Edythe 
 was thinking, as the little face faded from sight in 
 the distance, and the big ocean liner looked less 
 formidable than she had a moment ago at the dock. 
 
 The studio seemed deserted that afternoon 
 when she returned home. She wished that she
 
 ACROSS THE OCEAN FERRY 127 
 
 had brought the child Consuelo with her. She 
 was a sympathetic creature, and Edythe was con- 
 scious of a very tender affection for a certain little 
 pair of arms that had a most sympathetic touch 
 about them, and a child face that fitted close to 
 one's own as lovingly as the rose leaf does to the 
 heart of the rose. 
 
 "It's because she reminds me of my own girl," 
 Edythe thought sadly, as the vision of a baby face 
 rose for the moment before her, and then faded 
 again into the shadows through which it had 
 smiled. " The world would have looked so differ- 
 ent if she had lived to love me; life has looked 
 hopeless since I last held her." 
 
 How true it is that mankind grieves for the 
 dead and forgets the living : the living that are in 
 need of our love and support, when tears for the 
 dead avail nothing. It seemed to Edythe as she 
 sat alone that afternoon as if her brain were border- 
 ing on a collapse, like a broken branch of an oak 
 tree that was swaying in the breeze. 
 
 As the day deepened, Edythe watched the 
 shadows one by one, like sentinels, take up their 
 accustomed places in the corners, and she fell to 
 wondering if the legend were true, that shadows 
 are restless souls from the death land.
 
 128 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 As in a dream her surroundings became less and 
 less perceptible, and before her stretched a moun- 
 tainous range, over which she seemed to be crossing. 
 It appeared to be midday, and the air was intoxi- 
 cating in its freshness and lightness. Some wild 
 birds flapped their wings near her as they soared 
 into the air and were lost to sight behind a pink cloud 
 that was passing southward. An eagle watched 
 her with an imperious eye from a higher summit, 
 where he reigned, king of the air. But he offered 
 no interference, and she passed on and forgot him. 
 
 Once, on the edge of a high precipice, she was 
 wont to look down upon the world, and though it 
 seemed to her thousands of feet below the lowest 
 jet in the mountain, yet she could see the tide 
 of humanity hurrying on to the end, and as she 
 watched that moving panorama she could distin- 
 guish among them that great and innumerable 
 army of the oppressed and the sorrowful, the 
 fettered toilers of circumstance and of wrong. 
 And as she stood on the summit reviewing the 
 past land, night came over the country, and she 
 turned her eyes upwards to the light again the 
 ever burning searchlight from the white throne 
 of God, and there came to her there on the moun- 
 tain two children, a boy and a girl.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 A SUMMER EVENING 
 
 EDYTHE awoke to find the rooms well lighted 
 and Dorothy singing at her work. 
 
 "It's going to be a bit lonesome without little 
 Clare," she said, breaking the silence; "but I'm 
 glad she went away in such fine spirits. The Sig- 
 nor's departure was quite depressing." 
 
 " The Signor doesn't take life so lightly," said 
 Edythe. " He has seen more of it thai} Clare." 
 
 " And takes it too seriously," interrupted 
 Dorothy. " I don't like a sensitive nature in a 
 man ; it's purely a woman's instinct, and a weak 
 one at that. This world is too much of a rough- 
 and-tumble affair for one to cater to one's feel- 
 ings." 
 
 " Perhaps the Signor would be richer if it were 
 not for his sensitive nature," said Edythe, " but to 
 my mind he wouldn't be half so lovable. I didn't 
 realize how much I appreciated him until I saw 
 him sail away last Wednesday. Clare's going was 
 different, for she was happy." 
 
 139
 
 130 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " Well, they'll both have to be ' bygones ' for 
 the present," laughed Dorothy, with a shrug of 
 her pretty shoulders. " Come, cheer up, and have 
 some supper. Marie and Connie are coming 
 over later, and you don't want to greet them in 
 that attitude of despair when there's nothing to 
 worry over. If the Signer is lost at sea, you can 
 sit that way for a week, and I won't raise an 
 objection, but until then, I do." 
 
 Edythe sighed as if wearied, and tried to rouse 
 herself. She ate her supper and said but little. 
 She was conscious of a one-sided conversation 
 that didn't lag for want of subject-matter, but 
 she was so accustomed to the voice that it failed to 
 rouse her. It was like listening to a phonograph 
 when one is familiar with its accomplishments. 
 
 Marie came in at eight, accompanied by the ever 
 smiling Consuelo, and the evening woke up. 
 
 "I've been taking an automobile ride this 
 afternoon," said Consuelo, kissing Edythe as she 
 spoke. "I tell grandmere that I'd rather have 
 one now than a bicycle." 
 
 " You think so ? " said Edythe. 
 
 "Decidedly so, and Mr. Newson agrees with me." 
 
 " So Mr. Newson is the gentleman who took 
 you out?"
 
 A SUMMER EVENING 131 
 
 "Yes," sighed the child; "his conversation 
 wearies me sometimes, but I couldn't refuse go- 
 ing out in an automobile, even if I did have to 
 listen to him." 
 
 "She is becoming quite a diplomat, Marie," 
 said Dorothy. Madame laughed. " I fear she is 
 not learned enough to impersonate that ever gen- 
 erous and kind woman whose courtesies are so 
 often misconstrued because of the likeness to her 
 stepsister, Deceit. I consider a diplomat akin to 
 a statesman ; but the word is misapplied as often 
 as the term ' genius.' " 
 
 " Have you met many diplomats, Madame," 
 asked Edythe, "and do you think that to be one, 
 one must invariably equivocate ? " 
 
 " By no means, though to my mind the truth- 
 speaking element is rapidly belonging to a dead 
 generation. One of the wittiest women I met 
 abroad is clever solely for her diplomacy and 
 untruthfulness. I verily believe she could bring 
 about a reconciliation with heaven and his fallen 
 majesty if she were given an opportunity to do it. 
 She can make the ugliest woman feel handsome, 
 and the poorest man acquire momentary wealth 
 when she sets out to do it. If all the honour and 
 praise she bestows upon her friends were true,
 
 132 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 heaven would have to be renovated for their 
 presence." 
 
 " I should like to meet her," exclaimed Edythe, 
 with some feeling of enthusiasm ; " for even with 
 my knowledge of her untruthfulness, I know I 
 should admire her." 
 
 "She is not the first deserter from the ranks 
 of truth, nor is she the last, to my thinking," 
 said Madame. " She is like many of us, more 
 sinned against than sinning. But if a lie is 
 going to debar us from heaven, I fear that 
 Washington will be the only one there." 
 
 "And even the cherry-tree story is being 
 looked into," said Dorothy. 
 
 " Undoubtedly," said Madame. " Now that the 
 Bible is being torn into remnants in the sanctu- 
 ary, and parts discredited by a later and less 
 wise generation, I stand ready to believe almost 
 anything; for we seem uncertain at present as 
 to how we first came into being, and whither 
 we are going, though I confess the former ques- 
 tion troubles me but little." 
 
 " You're not a Darwinian disciple, then ? " said 
 Dorothy. " I confess I am." 
 
 "A good many follow his teachings, I am 
 inclined to think," said Madame. " I have never
 
 A SUMMER EVENING 133 
 
 probed the subject deep enough to answer in- 
 telligently. I think, however, the Darwinian doc- 
 trine more reasonable than the idea that we 
 came up from fishes, which, I believe, is the 
 Agassiz theory ; but that may be due to the 
 fact that I have met so many people resembling 
 in face and intelligence that former disputed 
 ancestor of ours. I have even been led to think 
 sometimes that the race of monkeys was degen- 
 erating." 
 
 "It is surprising how diverse are the people 
 of our own land and tongue," said Edythe. " I 
 never weary of studying humanity; to me, it is 
 ever new and interesting." 
 
 "But all so-called Americans are not of one 
 tongue, more's the pity," said Madame. " Amer- 
 ica is rightly named a free country, for it is the 
 refuge for the outcasts of the world, and espe- 
 cially rich if their inclinations are politics. I 
 suppose you have all heard of the judge in one 
 of the foreign countries who was anxious to rid 
 the place of a troublesome prisoner. In sen- 
 tencing the man for an old offence, he said, 
 ' Ten years, or a free passage to America.' It 
 was undoubtedly the chance of the man's life, 
 even if it did inconvenience our country a little
 
 134 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 by his coming. I'm not a woman suffragist, but 
 I do not believe in foreigners I am citing only 
 the uneducated classes voting over the heads 
 of the American woman. I believe that every 
 head of a house, whether a man or woman, and 
 every property owner should control a vote." 
 
 " If all heads of houses controlled votes," 
 laughed Edythe, " I think there would be a de- 
 cided feminine atmosphere at the polls. It would 
 certainly be a hard question in some houses as 
 to who held the vote." 
 
 " Not if the property owner's rights were recog- 
 nized," said Madame. 
 
 "It would always be the feature of an election," 
 added Dorothy, and she laughed so long and 
 heartily that Consuelo, who was asleep on the 
 divan, turned her face toward them, and smiled 
 in her dream.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 A RECOGNITION 
 
 PERHAPS it was because of a lost hope that 
 the violin made its master the man of the hour 
 in London when he played before one of the 
 largest audiences Covent Garden had ever held, 
 and won it over by the mere charm of his old 
 Stradivarius. 
 
 The Signor and Clare were not the principal 
 attractions that evening, but a famous Australian 
 prima donna whom London had turned out to 
 honour. The house was in excellent humour, and 
 the welcome extended to the Australian singer 
 was as hearty as it was sincere. She had sung 
 twice; the applause had died away, and above 
 the murmur of voices could be heard the music 
 of the orchestra. Clare was thankful that there 
 was something between her and the great prima 
 donna; for it seemed to her, as she stood in the 
 wings that night, that the echoes of the voice 
 would never die away from the walls of Covent 
 Garden. 
 
 35
 
 136 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 But the intermission came to an end, and 
 Lonspetti's words to Clare as they passed out 
 together brought courage to an almost sickened 
 heart. Whether the man looked master of him- 
 self, or the young singer was attractive, we do 
 not know. We are only conscious of a warm 
 welcome to both. If Lonspetti expected Clare 
 to look frightened, he misjudged her; for she 
 stood out bravely on the stage with all the 
 grace and ease of the artiste preceding her. The 
 Signor drew the bow across the strings for the 
 accompaniment to Schubert's " Erl King," and it 
 seemed to Clare as her voice rang out in its 
 potent emotion that a soul had claimed the violin 
 as a message bearer. " Du liebes Kind, komm 
 geh' mit mir," the voice rang out by itself ; 
 " Du liebes Kind," repeated the violin. Emo- 
 tion after emotion claimed in turn the magic 
 strings. Over the great Covent Garden a silence 
 fell that was reverent in its intensity. The old 
 violin had not failed in its mission to conquer, 
 yet no one realized that in every bar, in every 
 intoning, the master musician was putting his 
 soul. 
 
 The last notes of the song died away, the last 
 verse was encored and repeated, and in the
 
 A RECOGNITION 137 
 
 applause that followed Clare Barattoni had over- 
 stepped the bar of obscurity. As an encore she 
 sang Keiser's "Two Rivers," and then Lonspetti 
 played alone. 
 
 An eye-witness that evening has said that 
 a slight nervousness was apparent when he 
 stepped to the footlights. The hush that was 
 over the house like a spell passed off quickly as 
 Lonspetti was greeted. A suppressed expectancy 
 pervaded the air, and Lonspetti was wondering if 
 his solo was to be worthy of it all. He had only 
 to pass the bow across the instrument when silence 
 like death again controlled the audience. His 
 solo was down on the programme as "Memories" 
 and as such he might have intended it when he 
 came on the stage that evening ; but if ever a 
 violin told its own story, it was the cry of a broken 
 heart which would not be comforted. There was 
 no conventionality about Lonspetti's playing. His 
 abrupt mannerisms and tricks were distinctly his 
 own, he was defying methods that were traditional, 
 and before one of the most critical of audiences. 
 Lonspetti himself had given way to the old instru- 
 ment, and it was telling its own story, fearless of 
 the consequences. The music needed no words 
 to interpret its meaning. It carried one away with
 
 138 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 it to a realm where soul is over self, where sin is 
 unknown, where trouble cannot come to a land 
 where Christ is all in all. It was claimed that 
 in his music there was loose texture, abrupt 
 arpeggios, crude leaps; still others claim that it 
 was supernatural. We are apt to call things that 
 we do not understand supernatural. Still, if the 
 tired mind is consoled with fancies of another and 
 happier sphere than this ; if the heart can be made 
 to hope where hope is not, can be made to trust 
 mankind again, can be comforted if only for the 
 moment, what does it matter in what form the 
 comfort comes ? The music of his violin was a 
 soul ecstasy. In every note there was meaning, 
 purpose, and feeling. It was an appeal to souls 
 who had suffered like his own. Once, after a 
 scale of most extraordinary hypnotic sounds, the 
 music died away slowly, I might say reverently. 
 The lights in the vast auditorium went out one by 
 one until only the master player was visible. He 
 was still playing, though the sounds were scarcely 
 audible. The melody was but gradually develop- 
 ing itself. Weird fancies involuntarily confused 
 the mind as to what the violin was saying. It is 
 only an instant, for as if in the distance you can 
 hear a nightingale calling to its mate, the very
 
 A RECOGNITION 139 
 
 stillness and utter peace of the night you can feel 
 as you listen to him. 
 
 But the dream is over; the lights in Covent 
 Garden appear again like so many stars that 
 had been obscured for a moment by a petulant 
 cloud that would pass by. The nightingale has 
 ceased its calling. You listen, and in the stillness 
 of the surroundings, in the dreaminess of the 
 music, as if an almost divine influence were con- 
 trolling the instrument, rapturously, heavenly, and 
 clearly, an angel sang of peace. It was the finale. 
 The Signer stepped slightly back from the foot- 
 lights, and the curtain came slowly down ; but 
 the end was not to be, for as the curtain fell there 
 rose from the vast auditorium applause as thunder 
 falls. The Stradivarius had not told the agony 
 of a soul in bonds for naught. It had needed 
 no other voice than its own to tell its love, vain 
 longing, and devotion. The great audience was 
 not satisfied, for the witchery of a violin had com- 
 pletely overmastered it. There were faces in the 
 house that night that were flushed from excite- 
 ment, there were others who seemed intoxicated 
 with the weird melody. Again and again the 
 tumult of applause reached the ears of the artists, 
 and only when it proved itself interminable, Lon-
 
 140 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 spetti without the violin stepped out again before 
 the curtain. It was his intention to say a few 
 word of thanks when the applause had ceased ; but 
 hardly had he time to make himself heard when 
 the Australian prima donna stepped out from the 
 wings and handed him his violin. Never was 
 an act more graciously done or more heartily 
 applauded. The Signer bowed his appreciation, 
 and then again at the myriad of faces whose eyes 
 were riveted upon him. For a moment, and but a 
 moment, he appeared mystified, as if his reception 
 was something undreamed of, unexpected, then he 
 raised his violin to his chin, and the familiar notes 
 of " God save the King " were recognized. There 
 were calls for the other artists, and while the 
 Signor was playing the prelude, the curtains 
 parted, and Clare with the Australian singer 
 appeared before them and acknowledged the 
 applause. 
 
 A few minutes later Lonspetti went to Clare's 
 dressing-room. 
 
 " How was it, little girl ? " he said kindly, as he 
 went in and closed the door. " Was it more than 
 you dreamed it would be?" He had reasons to 
 think so, for Clare was crying. He sat down on 
 the divan and put his strong arms around her.
 
 A RECOGNITION 141 
 
 " How delighted Edythe will be when she hears 
 of it!" he said. 
 
 " I don't want her or any one to know about my 
 part in it," she replied, "for I didn't sing at all 
 well ; the audience was carried away by the violin, 
 just as I was." 
 
 " It's a queer old instrument," the Signer 
 laughed, "but it never seems to me so glorious 
 as when you accompany it. I'm going to put the 
 witchery on your voice; my old Stradivarius has 
 been blamed enough." 
 
 Clare began to smile through her tears. " You 
 are always so comforting, Signor," she said, rising. 
 " I don't know what this world would be without 
 you. If I have been successful to-night, I owe it 
 all to you." 
 
 Lonspetti was helping her on with her cloak 
 when there came a knock at the door. "Two 
 gentlemen to see you, sir," the messenger said, 
 handing the Signor the cards, then he added, 
 "They have been waiting to see you for some time." 
 
 Lonspetti re-read the bits of pasteboard he was 
 holding. They were both Italian names, and the 
 Signor looked both amused and perplexed. 
 " Really," he said somewhat slowly, " and you're 
 quite sure these cards were meant for me ? "
 
 142 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " Quite sure, sir." 
 
 " Is my carriage ready ? " 
 
 " It is, sir." 
 
 "Then call it. Please say to the gentlemen 
 that the lateness of the hour compels me to defer 
 seeing them." 
 
 " I will, sir." 
 
 He threw down the cards and turned to relieve 
 Clare of some of her flowers. She noticed then 
 the annoyance in Lonspetti's face. 
 
 " Old friends or new ? " she laughed lightly, as 
 he opened the door for her. 
 
 " It is a hard question to answer," was the 
 reply, as he tucked the old violin under his long 
 cloak; but Clare thought perhaps the Signer 
 recognized the names, and they, Lonspetti, for 
 when they reached the carriage door she noticed 
 two gentlemen standing there with heads uncov- 
 ered, and one of them stepping back as if fearing 
 to intrude exclaimed with all the fervour and en- 
 thusiasm of the Italian race : 
 
 " As Italy lives, it is the Prince."
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 TEMPEST TOSSED 
 
 " The mills of the gods grind slowly." 
 
 MR. COURTNEY sat at his study window think- 
 ing. On a table near him were several papers 
 which told of the success of Clare and Lonspetti 
 in London. He realized how much Clare's 
 success meant to Edythe, and how few things did 
 interest her. His first impulse on reading the 
 good news was to go to the studio and see her, 
 and he would have done so had not Dr. Mcllvaine 
 chosen the same time to call upon him. He had 
 gone now, and although his visit had been a short 
 one, it had also been long enough to leave behind 
 its impression. Mr. Courtney began to realize, as 
 he never had before, that the universe is made 
 up of many worlds like stars, and that each will 
 maintain its independence and individuality until 
 at some later period earth and sky are merged 
 into one world, beautiful beyond our dreaming. 
 But the last picture of the world is long in its
 
 144 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 making, and the time for its completion no man 
 can estimate ; meanwhile man will continue to 
 inhabit the world and share its difficulties and 
 heart breaks. 
 
 Rodgers Courtney was trying to forget Dr. Mc- 
 Ilvaine's words to him that morning. He was 
 endeavouring to shake the influence of the visit off, 
 like a dream one is anxious to forget. But the 
 good man's words seemed engraven everywhere 
 he would turn. " Let not the mortal man triumph 
 over that which is the immortal." 
 
 In a few words he had taken care not to refer 
 specifically to any one in particular ; but he did say 
 plainly, that a man who has consecrated his life to 
 the work of the Master must follow only in His 
 footsteps, and look to no other calling that does 
 not tend for future betterment in the service. He 
 omitted any reference to Mrs. Merrall, though he 
 spoke feelingly of her husband and her children. 
 It was very plain what his opinion of her was, 
 though he wisely kept his w.ords within bounds. 
 He spoke touchingly of Maurice, and of his vain 
 efforts to see his mother, who chose not to come to 
 him ; of the illness that was gradually ending the 
 waiting, and Mr. Courtney sat through it all, silent 
 and miserable.
 
 TEMPEST TOSSED 145 
 
 "If there are people," said Dr. Mcllvaine, 
 "who with wide-open eyes seek to wreck their 
 own lives, the divine Providence should prevent 
 them from dragging others into the chasm. A 
 wreck invariably washes up many victims. We 
 are often powerless to prevent a ship going down 
 at sea; but we are able to cry to a man who 
 is pushing from shore on a treacherous sea to 
 stay, lest he be numbered among the wrecked. 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine spoke encouragingly of Mr. 
 Courtney's work in the church, of his ability, not 
 only as a man, but as a preacher. He assured 
 him of a future that was bright and promising ; 
 but Mr. Courtney was too crushed in spirit to see 
 anything hopeful or helpful in the future. The 
 doctor left him thinking, and silent. 
 
 When he had gone, he got up and walked 
 across the room several times to shake off the 
 influence, but it clung to him with all the per- 
 sistency and earnestness of the man himself. If 
 he had done wrong, he was willing to repent; 
 but he could see no cause for repentance. 
 
 He was well aware that he was in love with 
 Edythe Barattoni. He almost wished now as he 
 thought it over that he had confessed to Dr. 
 Mcllvaine. In the end the consequences must
 
 146 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 end in a tragedy, so what did it matter, he 
 thought, if it came sooner or later. He buried his 
 face in his hands as he thought of her, guiltily, 
 reproachfully, tearfully. She belonged to some 
 one else. He had no right even to think of her, 
 no right to love her as he did. He wondered if 
 he was a weak man that he could not be master 
 of himself ; that he could not put the thought 
 of her away, and then he realized that she was 
 more to him now than she was a week ago, 
 and every day was becoming more and more 
 a part of his being, the incentive and hope to 
 which he was blindly clinging. It was true 
 that he had never preached as he had since the 
 influence of Edythe had come over him. In the 
 pulpit he spoke as an inspired man, and his 
 words rang out with a clearness and sincerity 
 that attracted his hearers to the wonderful ability 
 and power of this new worker for Christ. At 
 times when he spoke his face would light up with 
 an almost divine radiance, for the goodness of the 
 man told, whether he stood in pulpit or parlour. 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine was proud of him. He was 
 glad of his popularity in the church, of his 
 youth and ability. Like a sword from a clear 
 summer's sky had come to him the thought that
 
 TEMPEST TOSSED 147 
 
 he was dividing his time between the church and 
 the land called Bohemia. He felt that he had 
 overestimated the young man's strength; he had 
 thought him free from temptations like other 
 men. He dared not believe that his body perish- 
 able was to triumph over the soul imperishable. 
 If Rodgers Courtney lay awake nights thinking 
 of Edythe, and likened her beauty to the sun in 
 its morning glory, Dr. Mcllvaine was also awake 
 thinking and praying that Rodgers Courtney 
 would see the folly of his infatuation before the 
 time was too far spent. He pictured sadly the 
 end if he let him go. He was the elder man, 
 the wiser for his years and experience. It was his 
 duty to go to the younger man and remonstrate, 
 and he went to him and came away unsatisfied 
 and unhappy. 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine's love all his life had been 
 the church. He could not fathom any love so 
 deep or so holy. To him women had been kind, 
 helpful, and thoughtful. He admired beauty of 
 soul more than charm of the face. He had cared 
 for only one woman, and she was his mother. 
 He was not a man to whom to confess all things, 
 and so Rodgers Courtney thought as he sat there 
 thinking. He knew the very words Dr. Me-
 
 148 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Ilvaine would answer to a confession. He would 
 be kind, but he was not the man to sympathize 
 with him or to be merciful. He would speak of 
 giving her up and forgetting her as one forgets 
 a beautiful day which has inspired one with its 
 brightness. Rodgers Courtney knew that it was 
 not in his make-up to forget. And as he let the 
 face of Edythe rise before him in a retrospection, 
 and her eyes looked into his, the more convinced 
 was he of his love for her, even though the 
 barriers seemed unsurmountable and hard. 
 
 He drew from his pocket her miniature, not 
 that the ivory-pictured face was necessary to 
 recall her, for he knew her every feature, her 
 every sigh and smile. The gray twilight of even- 
 ing came in through the curtains and lay like 
 a mist over the room. It shadowed partly the 
 miniature he was looking at, so he parted the 
 curtains and drew his chair nearer the window. 
 And this forbidden love had been the only love 
 that had ever come to him ! This woman, whose 
 influence had broadened him, had made him see 
 justice as she really is, not as she is wrongly 
 pictured. Through her eyes, he had seen the 
 world in another phase, had heard the cries of the 
 struggling and oppressed, not always the banners
 
 TEMPEST TOSSED 149 
 
 of the victorious and successful, with which the 
 world is most naturally familiar. 
 
 The words of Lonspetti came to him in his 
 musing. "Love is the greatest incentive this 
 life holds." "Yes," he said to himself, "it is 
 after all the only incentive. Without it we go 
 blindly through the days leading to eternity, for 
 life is worth the living only when the heart is 
 young. We are not masters of our own fates, 
 and when face to face we meet them, and read 
 life's meaning in their eyes, it depends upon us 
 whether we hold them, or pass on again into the 
 lonely, loveless years, which may be the inheri- 
 tance of the future." 
 
 The face in the miniature began to wax dim 
 in the twilight, so he rose from the window, 
 drew the curtains together, and lighted up his 
 study. He had hardly done so and found a place 
 for the picture on the table where he could look 
 at it when there come a knock at the door, and 
 a servant announced Mr. Merrall. 
 
 He was in such a dreamy state that, for a 
 moment, he could hardly realize who Mr. Merrall 
 was ; but he regained his thoughts quickly, and, 
 replacing the miniature in his pocket, asked that 
 he be shown to the study.
 
 150 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Mr. Merrall, as he last saw him, gave one the 
 impression that life was worth the living. The 
 man that a moment later stepped across his 
 threshold looked as if life had been the reverse. 
 His face had a look which only comes after 
 great trouble and resignation. He had grown 
 somewhat slighter, and the hair over his temples 
 had turned prematurely white. 
 
 When Rodgers Courtney took his hand in 
 greeting, he felt like a wicked man and a 
 hypocrite, for was it not this man's wife that 
 he loved ? 
 
 " I have come," said Mr. Merrall, after a 
 moment's thought, "to ask your help in a cause 
 in which I am powerless. I have come to ask you 
 to reconcile my wife to her children." Rodgers 
 Courtney wished that this day had been omitted 
 from the calendar. " Since love is not, I will 
 not ask her to return to me, but to them. It 
 cannot be in a woman's making that she can 
 rationally and deliberately turn against her own 
 children for no other reason than dislike for her 
 husband, and I have reason to hope that she has 
 repented." 
 
 " I fear, Mr. Merrall, that my services would 
 be useless and unavailing in the cause," Mr.
 
 TEMPEST TOSSED 151 
 
 Courtney said slowly. " Mrs. Merrall is not a 
 woman easily influenced by any one. I am sure 
 I could do nothing." 
 
 "But will you make the attempt?" 
 
 " I have already failed once," Mr. Courtney 
 said. " You may remember I was sent on the 
 same mission at the time she left her children." 
 
 " And for which I can never hope to repay 
 you," replied Mr. Merrall; "but time, as you 
 know, is a great healer of trouble. It is not 
 likely that she feels to-day as she did then. 
 She acted in a thoughtless moment when fear 
 of the consequences availed nothing. I have 
 myself to blame for not holding her back; but 
 the time was one of great trouble, and a man 
 does not always act at such times as he might." 
 He paused for a moment as if to steady the 
 tremor of his voice. "You will pardon my 
 coming here," he said after a silence, " but in 
 time of trouble, the heart looks to God as its 
 helper, and I have come to you as his priest to 
 intercede for me. If it were not for my boys, I 
 would go to the other ends of the world away 
 from the scene of it all, but I cannot." 
 
 " They are nice boys," Mr. Courtney said 
 kindly. "To many men they would make up
 
 152 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 for any loss." He spoke with feeling, and Mr. 
 Merrall noticed that the young clergyman was 
 deeply moved. He did not realize that there 
 was a common grief between them. 
 
 " Children cannot always make up to a man 
 the loss of his wife," Mr. Merrall replied, "at 
 least, I have found it so. I loved Mrs. Merrall 
 too deeply. I made her too much of an idol. 
 My every thought was of her and is still;" 
 then he added, "It may be in your love for the 
 church and your consecrated life to its calling 
 that you have never loved a woman. A man 
 can love well but once ; but when that love does 
 dawn upon his life, it is as near to the resurrec- 
 tion of the soul and the love of God as anything 
 we mortals know of." 
 
 "Not when it is hopeless," Mr. Courtney said 
 after a moment. " In that case it is the destruc- 
 tion of the soul." 
 
 Mr. Merrall studied the signet ring on his little 
 finger as if reflecting on the wisdom of Mr. Court- 
 ney's words, then he said, glancing up, " If you'll 
 take the advice of one older and more experi- 
 enced, you will never give up hope. It would 
 seem as if I had little left to hope for ; and yet I 
 am full of hope. I am confident that some day
 
 TEMPEST TOSSED 153 
 
 Edythe will come back to her children and to 
 me. The boys' first thought in the morning is of 
 their mother, though Lionel rarely speaks of her 
 now. I imagine people ask him where she is, for 
 he can't be induced to go outside the grounds 
 alone. The other boys are confident that their 
 mother is coming home some day ; but Lionel has 
 given up expecting her." 
 
 Mr. Courtney rose from his chair and walked to 
 the window. There was an unsteadiness in his 
 movements that startled Mr. Merrall. He had 
 hardly reached him when the young clergyman 
 fell backward into his arms. 
 
 There is a saying somewhere, that there is a 
 limit to human endurance, even when the heart 
 is strong.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 
 
 WHEN Rodgers Courtney regained conscious- 
 ness he was startled by the transformation of his 
 rooms. A white-capped nurse was standing at 
 his window, and there was a woman's influence 
 about the room. He noticed the unmistakable 
 look as he glanced about him. Was he dreaming ? 
 he wondered. He tried to think, but he could not. 
 There was some trouble with his head, he knew, 
 for his reasoning powers had failed him. Scat- 
 tered ideas and recollections of people and places 
 passed before him without giving any clew to what 
 had happened. He was unconscious again before 
 he realized it, and the next time he knew any- 
 thing a physician was standing in the room. He 
 was also a stranger to him. Then, like the imper- 
 fect recollection of a dream, the face of Edythe 
 rose before him, and weak and sick as he was, he 
 tried to put it from him. But where love has 
 come, love rules, and though we put it away be-
 
 IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 155 
 
 cause it is not right or lawful that we may foster 
 it, it ofttimes spins a web between two souls too 
 fine to see, yet too strong to break a thread of 
 affinity that only death can sever. 
 
 "But after all what will it matter fifty years 
 hence?" Rodgers Courtney thought to himself 
 as he lay there a thought that invariably soothes 
 the conscience when we are tempted to follow in 
 the trail of the serpent. "What will it matter," 
 the inner voice whispered, " fifty years hence ? 
 Fate will still be luring her children to destruc- 
 tion, and the forbidden love of to-day will be 
 effaced by that of to-morrow. As long as the old 
 world is left to herself, there will be lovers and 
 lovers. Our love and our shortcomings, our 
 faithfulness and our faithlessness, ay, even our 
 heart breaks, are only on the slate of the world 
 to-day and are obliterated long before the heart 
 heals or death bids us forget them. So what can 
 it matter ? Since the fall of Adam and the destruc- 
 tion of the garden of Eden man has been im- 
 perfect, and though at times we walk in a gar- 
 den not unlike our dim knowledge of the garden 
 of Eden, like our forefathers we are soul-intoxi- 
 cated by the wonderment of this semi-paradise, 
 and taste again of the forbidden fruit of the tree
 
 156 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 upon which we crucify ourselves. The breaking 
 of a heart is the worst death man knows of. 
 There is no cure; there is no ease except the 
 relief which may attend momentary forgetting. 
 A wounded heart may be healed, but a broken 
 one, never. We are comforted with the thought 
 that after death man will be recompensed for 
 the suffering he has known here, but it seems 
 doubtful, even in the blessed understanding, that 
 recompense may be had in heaven for the sor- 
 rows we knew here. And after death will it 
 matter much to see where we strayed in the 
 pathway, to review the lost battle from that 
 higher summit, to see where the troops fell we 
 might have saved, unless in that new body with 
 which we have risen we have lost our individu- 
 ality, our earth interests, ay, our own selves; it 
 will not come as a comfort to see the Eden that 
 might have been on earth, though paradise be 
 gained." 
 
 If Mr. Courtney had been a well man that day, 
 he would have gone to Edythe and told her of 
 his love for her, even although it seemed hope- 
 less. Lonspetti had said that all things are 
 possible with perseverance and faith. 
 
 Mr. Courtney was aware that several had left
 
 IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 157 
 
 cards for him during his illness, though, at the 
 physician's orders, they were not given him. He 
 was aware only that morning that he had been ill 
 a week. It seemed to him only an illness of a few 
 hours. He did not realize, in the restlessness and 
 despair of his spirit, the weakness of his physical 
 self, nor how sick a man he was. He did not real- 
 ize either of how little of the day he was conscious, 
 or of the anxiety of the physician for his recovery. 
 Dr. Mcllvaine was the only person who had been 
 allowed to see him, and though he appeared to be 
 conscious once or twice during his visits, he did 
 not appear to recognize the doctor, or even notice 
 the presence of a third person in the room. 
 Occasionally, his eyes would follow some move- 
 ment of the nurse, though he never asked for any- 
 thing or made any attempt to speak until that 
 morning. That he was a very sick man was 
 thought by the prayers of Dr. Mcllvaine the pre- 
 vious Sunday morning, when he said : " And the 
 more the outward man decayeth, strengthen him. 
 . . . Give him unfeigned repentance for all the 
 errors of his life past. . . . Yet forasmuch as in 
 all appearances the time of his dissolution draweth 
 near, so fit and prepare him, we beseech thee, against 
 the hour of death that after his departure hence in
 
 158 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 peace and in thy favour his soul may be received 
 into thine everlasting kingdom." 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine did not notice among his well- 
 beloved parishioners that morning a face that he 
 had not seen there in many a day, and, had the 
 truth been known, the face of a woman he despised. 
 Had he seen her, he would have noticed the un- 
 feigned grief on her face, when, after the sermon, 
 he spoke briefly of a life that was passing to its 
 Maker, quietly, unconsciously, perhaps gladly. 
 "For we cannot tell," he emphasized, "by the 
 brightness of a face or the warmth of the hand 
 clasp how much sorrow is in the heart; for the 
 weakness of even an oak tree does not show till it 
 falls. The passing onward of what appears to be 
 unfinished lives, unaccomplished purposes, causes 
 some men to reflect unwisely upon the wisdom of 
 Almighty God, which, I say to you, is blasphemous. 
 It is not our right to question the will of the 
 Redeemer of the world ; and though we trust that 
 the mission of our dearly beloved brother may be 
 continued among us, yet we pray if his usefulness 
 in His service has reached its termination, that he 
 may be taken to the Father and enjoy the everlast- 
 ing peace of His kingdom."
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM 
 
 THAT afternoon Edythe sent her card to Rodgers 
 Courtney. The nurse, who at the physician's 
 instructions never allowed a message to reach him, 
 was out of the room for the moment, and the maid 
 unwittingly entered and handed the sick man the 
 card. 
 
 It seemed to him from that moment that life was 
 worth the living, after all, and that hope should not 
 be sacrificed upon the altar of despair. It seemed 
 to Rodgers, as he awaited her coming, that it was 
 the happiest moment he had ever known. Only 
 that morning had the doctor told him, unwillingly 
 no doubt, that the end seemed inevitable, and he 
 merely asked that Dr. Mcllvaine be sent for. Dr. 
 Mcllvaine was dining out when the message was 
 left for him, and at the time Rodgers expected 
 him, perhaps dreaded it, Edythe's card was brought 
 to him. 
 
 When she entered the room on that bright, 
 beautiful afternoon, Rodgers Courtney resolved 
 
 159
 
 160 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 that death must fight for him. If he must go, it 
 would be only after a hard struggle after a com- 
 bat. Only that morning he had become recon- 
 ciled to the passing. There is strength in a great 
 love, and that strength took possession of him, 
 body and soul, like renewed life, when Edythe 
 came into his presence. 
 
 " I have come because I heard you were ill," 
 she said gently, as she took his hands in hers, and 
 smiled upon him a smile full of pity, compassion, 
 and kindliness. It seemed to Rodgers that the 
 influence she brought with her was not unlike the 
 great and good influence he had felt in the pres- 
 ence of the dying, when the tired pass from the 
 wilderness to the peace which passeth all under- 
 standing. He could die under such an influence 
 as hers. 
 
 " Your coming was an answer to prayer that I 
 never dreamed would be granted," said the young 
 clergyman, " though I prayed night and day to 
 have some word of you. I feared the prayer was 
 useless, perhaps too selfish." 
 
 " I have left my card for you twice since I heard 
 you were ill ; but the nurse said both times that you 
 had just fallen asleep, but that the card would be 
 given you on your waking."
 
 THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM j6l 
 
 " They never reached me," said Rodgers, sadly. 
 " I wasn't aware that any one save Dr. Mcllvaine 
 had taken interest enough to inquire for me. I 
 would have taken more interest in getting well had 
 I known you had been here." 
 
 "And your other friends," she said, "Madame 
 Marie and little Consuelo, have been so anxious 
 about you. Consuelo has almost worried the 
 housekeeper here to death by her frequent inqui- 
 ries about you." 
 
 "And I never heard of it," said Rodgers, "when 
 it would have given me such pleasure." 
 
 " It often seems," said Edythe, " as if our 
 friends, by some strange turn of the wheel of 
 destiny, had all deserted us, leaving not one 
 behind to comfort us ; but in the end we find that 
 we have been mistaken. I have found it so 
 myself." 
 
 " But are we always mistaken ? " said Mr. Court- 
 ney. " Sometimes friends prove false, or again 
 they cannot come back to us. The thought re- 
 calls a little verse which I often think of. 
 
 " ' 'Tis such a little while we walk together 
 
 Along life's way ; 
 
 Some weary feet that walk beside us falter 
 Each passing day ;
 
 1 62 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 A brief, sweet time we journey on together 
 
 Through fields of green, 
 And then our voices break the silence, never 
 
 That falls between.'" 
 
 " It is so true," said Edythe ; " but life is too 
 short to dwell upon those things. There is so 
 much in the ever-doing present that I look upon 
 the future and what it may hold for us as too far 
 away to worry over." 
 
 " It is better, I suppose, if one can forget it ; 
 but sometimes, almost in a moment, we are 
 brought face to face with it. When we least ex- 
 pect it, we find ourselves on the brink where 
 two worlds meet as I have," he added slowly. 
 
 There was silence for a moment, then Edythe 
 spoke : 
 
 " But you have turned from the brink," she 
 said, letting her eyes rest full upon his face ; " you 
 are recovering." 
 
 " The doctor tells me I am not," was the reply. 
 " He told me only this morning that there was 
 no hope." He noticed as he said this that a look 
 came into her eyes which was more than mere 
 pity, deeper than a passing regret ; but she re- 
 covered herself quickly, and perhaps, after all, 
 Rodgers thought as he looked at her, he was mis-
 
 THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM 163 
 
 taken. She had risen for the moment and was re- 
 arranging some roses on a table beside him. She 
 was standing back to him, and only a great rose 
 witnessed the tears that fell. 
 
 " You want to get well, do you not ? " she 
 asked, as she again turned to him. 
 
 He looked her full in the eyes. 
 
 " If I could have the one wish of my heart 
 granted, yes ; if not, it would be a relief to go 
 now." 
 
 Perhaps Edythe knew what thought crossed 
 his mind when he answered her, yet we do not 
 know. Sometimes we are mistaken in the 
 thought that occurs to us, at other times we will 
 not trust our own intuition; so it was with 
 Edythe. She would not believe it. 
 
 She was standing by the window when the 
 nurse returned, and although Mr. Courtney no- 
 ticed that she was for the moment surprised at 
 seeing any one in the room, he saw that she was 
 attracted by the beauty of the stranger. When 
 Edythe turned, he introduced them. " Mrs. Mer- 
 rall, Miss Woodward." The nurse was inclined 
 merely to bow and retire, but Edythe went for- 
 ward and shook hands with her. 
 
 " I am glad to know the person to whom Mr.
 
 1 64 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Courtney owes his recovery," she said, smiling; 
 " it is always the woman's hand behind the 
 doctor's head." 
 
 The nurse smiled, but Edythe saw that the 
 smile was devoid of hope. 
 
 " Perhaps, after all, she was too sanguine," she 
 thought ; for as she turned to the sick man again 
 she saw that the look of death was upon his 
 face. 
 
 She was going now. It was doubtful, she 
 thought, if she should ever see him again. She 
 tarried another moment, and this time she went 
 close to him and laid her hand upon his brow. 
 It was very feverish. He raised his hand and 
 laid it on hers. She let it rest there, for she felt 
 it was comforting to him. He raised his other 
 hand and took hers. She thought he said 
 " Edythe." 
 
 We will concede so much for the dying. 
 But she had said good-by now, and the nurse 
 had closed the door behind her. Mr. Courtney 
 wanted her to go to the door with Mrs. Merrall, 
 but she failed to understand him. 
 
 On the stairs Edythe came face to face with 
 Dr. Mcllvaine hurrying up. He took off his hat 
 at seeing her and stepped aside to let her pass,
 
 THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM 165 
 
 and she saw that in his hand he held a book of 
 Common Prayer. 
 
 When he entered the sick room, he was sur- 
 prised at the change in Mr. Courtney. He looked 
 brighter than he had seen him during his illness. 
 He had come ready to read the prayers for the 
 dying, and to administer the last rites of the 
 church. He found that Mr. Courtney was not 
 prepared for either. 
 
 " I have made up my mind to get well," the 
 younger clergyman said as he took Dr. Mcllvaine's 
 hands in his in greeting; and the bird in his 
 window, which had been silent since his illness, 
 interrupted them with its singing.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 WHEN ANGELS ARE VEILED 
 
 To the inmates of Lambeth workhouse, near 
 London, the names of Lonspetti and Clare 
 Barattoni had no especial significance or interest. 
 They were merely aware that they were to be 
 entertained in some way, to the exact particulars of 
 which not one of them had even given a thought. 
 It is Madame Marie who has said, and aptly : 
 " Though we may cling to hope and ambition on the 
 direct and rapid road to the poorhouse, it is an 
 undeniable fact that they never accompany us 
 within its portals. They are as fickle as love when 
 poverty hovers near." 
 
 The audience that were gathered together that 
 afternoon looked more as if it were to witness a 
 funeral than a theatrical performance. There was 
 a hopelessness, a sadness, in truth a pathetic 
 weariness in the haggard faces that impressed one 
 with the uncertainty and the fickleness of fortune. 
 Clare noticed it as she came upon the stage that 
 
 1 66
 
 WHEN ANGELS ARE VEILED 167 
 
 day, and though the usual welcome was, as she 
 wrote home in a letter, " hesitatingly and discreetly 
 given," she felt that what there was of it was 
 sincere. 
 
 She opened the entertainment by an impromptu 
 address in which she told her audience of how 
 the beauty of their home and surroundings had 
 appealed to her when she had driven through 
 there the week before, and how, in order to know 
 something of its people, she had gladly accepted 
 the invitation extended to her by one of the officers 
 to visit there and to become acquainted with them 
 all. The weary old faces on the benches began 
 to light up. The sincerity, combined with the 
 extreme youth and freshness of the speaker, 
 appealed to them. Lonspetti, who was in the 
 audience, noticed with what heartfelt interest they 
 listened to this young girl ; and while her address 
 was brief, she managed to tell them some little 
 incidents of her visit to England, although he 
 noticed she made no reference whatever to the 
 success she had personally met with. Clare con- 
 cluded her remarks by apologizing for the time she 
 had taken, and as the applause that followed died 
 away, she introduced Signer Lonspetti. For an 
 instant, though only for an instant, the audience
 
 168 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 looked disappointed perhaps suspicious of the 
 exchange that had been made without their assent 
 or approval but it passed off quickly when Lon- 
 spetti drew the bow across the silver-toned strings. 
 Those who would know what success is, the suc- 
 cess that we dream of, success that is not adulter- 
 ated with worldly kindness and forbearance ; those 
 who complain of the insincerity, the falsity, the 
 fickleness of the average audience, should play to 
 the inmates of a workhouse. 
 
 Among the guests who with the officers and 
 their families occupied the front row of benches 
 was one young man. He had never been in a 
 workhouse before, and he regarded the inmates 
 curiously and critically. Lonspetti, who had sat 
 near him during Clare's address, noticed him from 
 the fact that he was the only young man present, 
 and as one who could define character at a glance 
 he felt that he was inwardly condemning the 
 people about him rather than pitying them. He 
 saw in his face smiling contempt as the worn faces 
 brightened up in their interest, and Lonspetti de- 
 cided as he stepped on the stage that day if there 
 was a way of touching his heart he would make 
 him something more than a mere " looker-on 
 in Vienna." It is often said that an artist plays
 
 WHEN ANGELS ARE VEILED 169 
 
 for one face in the audience, and the Signor was 
 thinking of one when he placed the violin under 
 his chin and began to play. The music began to 
 fill the solemn air with its sweetness. Lonspetti 
 was conscious of attracting the young man's atten- 
 tion away from his less fortunate brethren. He 
 saw the distorted faces light up until some of them 
 looked to him beautiful from where he stood. 
 
 But the music ceased, perhaps abruptly. Before 
 the listeners had time to show their appreciation 
 the violin had swung into another melody. " The 
 Boatmen's Song," it was noted on the programme. 
 It commenced softly, and as it swelled into fuller 
 melody Clare's voice could be heard above the 
 music of the instrument intoning in perfect unison. 
 In listening to the song it was almost possible to 
 picture the blueness and the tranquillity of the river 
 in its twilight glory, the tender whisperings of the 
 waves one to each other, the shuddering sweetness 
 of the wind swaying the tiny craft home to its 
 mooring. And no one, not even Lonspetti him- 
 self, could tell you how the spell was wrought. 
 He had come down from the platform now, and 
 many were those who pressed forward to shake 
 his hand. 
 
 "You've been a sailor sometime yourself,
 
 I/O THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 maybe," an old woman murmured as she took his 
 outstretched hand in greeting. 
 
 " Enough of one to be in sympathy with them," 
 was the reply, and then he added, " Do you come 
 of fisher folk ? " 
 
 "Ay," came the answer, and there was tri- 
 umph in the voice. 
 
 A daughter of one of the officials gave a harp 
 solo, and then Clare again took the stage. She 
 had on a hat that appeared several sizes too large 
 for her, but before her audience could guess its 
 meaning she told them that she was going to do 
 for their amusement what she had never done 
 before, and what she probably never would per- 
 mit herself to do again, take the part of a tough 
 girl. She laughed merrily when she said it, and 
 in an instant all the faces, the happiest down to 
 the saddest-looking individual in the audience, 
 were smiling. She explained that as all of them 
 had probably not seen a variety-hall singer give 
 a tough song with its many variations, she would 
 do her best at an imitation, and if the toughness 
 proved too tough for any of them, she hoped that 
 they would pardon her. If you had been there, 
 you would have seen that her audience was all 
 hers to do as she would with them. Her accom-
 
 WHEN ANGELS ARE VEILED 171 
 
 paniment began with a most undecided, lagging 
 movement, and then the tough song introduced 
 itself. It was hardly as tough as the majority c 
 the audience had been led to expect, still the idea 
 that some of them at some time or another had 
 been in touch with life and its vanities went to 
 their heads like wine, and they applauded her 
 heartily. She returned when she found that their 
 applause was a decided recall, and sang something 
 about a little darky boy who had the awful pro- 
 pensity for appropriating other people's chickens, 
 and her audience was as wildly enthusiastic as 
 before. If there had been any hesitation in their 
 applause at the beginning of the afternoon, it had 
 passed away. If they had once been suspicious of 
 what they were to receive in return for their atten- 
 tion, they were now no longer doubtful. Their 
 applause was stirred by the emotion of the heart, 
 not by the purse strings. The entertainment was 
 almost over now, and perhaps they realized it ; for 
 head after head began to drop down on the back 
 of the benches in a shame-faced attempt to hide 
 the tears that would come and reveal themselves. 
 Lonspetti was playing now, and the young girl 
 who had done so much to reawaken happiness in 
 their hearts was singing. They knew that, al-
 
 172 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 though their eyes were dimmed with tears. They 
 knew, too, that the song was " Auld Lang Syne." 
 'Clare had asked them to join in the chorus, but 
 when she came to it, not a voice was raised, and 
 the violin alone responded. Strangely, majesti- 
 cally, sweetly, it filled the air with the music that 
 was stirring its soul. Those among its listeners 
 who were tear eyed, brushed them away to gaze 
 upon the player. " Should auld acquaintance be 
 forgot ? " the violin was pleading, but the auld 
 Stradivanus took unto itself the heart answer that 
 came back to it from the people of Lambeth work- 
 house.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 CHAINS THAT GALL 
 
 WHEN John Rodgers Courtney went out for the 
 first time in the latter part of June, it looked to 
 him as if the inhabitants of the great city, like the 
 Arabs, had folded their tents and quietly stolen 
 away. Although it was almost July, he had not 
 realized it until he saw how deserted the streets 
 looked. 
 
 As he walked on he noticed that several turned 
 and, he thought, looked after him. He began to 
 wonder if he had known them and had forgotten 
 them. He found it so hard to recall people since 
 his illness, but " if they had known me, they would 
 have spoken to me," he thought. He didn't real- 
 ize what a sick man he looked. 
 
 As he walked on he was aware of two ladies 
 stopping abruptly as they passed, and he thought 
 they intended to speak to him. There was some- 
 thing about the younger of the women that for the 
 moment seemed familiar to him, but he raised his 
 hat merely and passed on. Then, like a voice
 
 1/4 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 from the past, he seemed to hear some one saying, 
 " It's Mr. Courtney." The words began to impress 
 themselves upon his mind. Over and over he 
 heard the words repeated ; it was a familiar voice, 
 yet he couldn't place it. He tried to think, and 
 the more he thought, the more he realized that his 
 brain was in a torpid state, and not active. The 
 stars he noticed, as he had not done before, were 
 all out ; the moon, too, was at its fullest and shin- 
 ing in all its glory like a bride in her home in the 
 space realm. The stars seemed nearer to him to- 
 night than ever. He recalled for the first time in 
 years something his mother had told him that 
 when those we love die and pass to heaven, an- 
 other star is added to that firmament of light. 
 Some day, perhaps, the stars would be dearer to 
 him than to-night Death always binds us closer 
 to heaven. 
 
 He was about to turn his face homeward when 
 there was a step behind him and some one 
 said : 
 
 " Isn't this Mr. Courtney ? " 
 
 Mr. Courtney turned. It was Charles Land- 
 man, the painter of miniatures. 
 
 " You had forgotten me," he said as they 
 shook hands.
 
 CHAINS THAT GALL 175 
 
 " No, indeed," replied Mr. Courtney, slowly, 
 yet with the old-time firmness in his voice. 
 " I haven't forgotten you, though it seems years 
 since we met," then he added, "You may not 
 have heard of it, but I have been at death's door 
 for the last month, and my life before that seems 
 very long ago." 
 
 " No, I had not heard of it," said Landman. 
 " I have seen few of the old friends for months. 
 Luck has been down on me, and I've kept out 
 of sight; it's always best under those circum- 
 stances, you know." 
 
 " It should not be so," said Mr. Courtney, 
 " I would have done all in my power had you 
 come to me." 
 
 The two men walked on in silence for a 
 moment, then the artist said : " I believe you, 
 and I thank you, but I have asked my last favour 
 of any one. Your work has been different from 
 mine, and it has brought you into contact with 
 different people ; still I suppose the world is 
 the same all the world over, with only caresses 
 and smiles for the fortunate." 
 
 " You think so, because you have found it so," 
 replied Mr. Courtney, though he spoke with 
 difficulty. " By the way," he added, " suppose
 
 1 76 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 we take a carriage at the next stand and 
 drive up to Madame Marie's," and the artist 
 acquiesced. 
 
 Only when they were seated did Mr. Courtney 
 realized how weak he was. He knew at that 
 moment that he should be returning home, and 
 that it would have been better still had he not 
 come out at all. The night air, he well knew, 
 was dangerous to him in his convalescence. 
 Mr. Landman roused him from himself. 
 
 " What do you hear of Mrs. Merrall lately ? " 
 he said. " Has she returned to her husband ? " 
 
 " I had not heard of it," Mr. Courtney replied. 
 
 "She's a fine woman," continued Landman. 
 " I have always admired her. She was too great 
 a light to be concealed under a bushel. People 
 told her so when she gave up the stage. She 
 probably thinks better of their advice now." 
 
 " Probably," added Mr. Courtney, for something 
 to say. 
 
 "That reminds me, I made a miniature of 
 her for your collection, did I not?" he asked; 
 "surely I have not been dreaming." 
 
 "Yes, and it disappeared during my illness," 
 replied Mr. Courtney ; " I have not seen it since." 
 
 " And you have made inquiries concerning it ? "
 
 CHAINS THAT GALL 177 
 
 " No, for when I realized it was no longer in 
 my possession, it was too late." 
 
 " Did you interest your physician and nurse 
 in it. They knew, of course, who had access to 
 your room." 
 
 " The physician at the beginning of my illness 
 was a stranger to me," said Mr. Courtney. " I 
 believe his name was Elliott. The nurse he sent 
 was with me up to a few days ago ; she knew 
 nothing of the miniature, for I asked her." 
 
 " But the physician you spoke of, perhaps he 
 found it and put it away ? " 
 
 " No, I should have heard of it," he said. 
 
 "Well, I trust the two miniatures will never 
 meet," he exclaimed. " To make two miniatures 
 alike I consider almost as bad as betraying a 
 trust." 
 
 They had reached Madame's now. As the 
 carriage stopped, a child's face was seen at the 
 window and then disappeared to welcome them 
 at the door. She ,did not know Mr. Landman, 
 but after greeting Mr. Courtney, she extended 
 her hand in all graciousness to the stranger, 
 and said, as Mr. Courtney introduced her, "I'm 
 glad to know you, Mr. Landman, very glad." 
 
 As Consuelo stood there that moment in the
 
 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 light from the hall chandelier she looked in her 
 white dress as if heaven had opened and she 
 had just stepped to earth. Mr. Courtney noticed 
 how the artist's face brightened at her greeting. 
 She went in advance of them and throwing 
 aside the portieres said, with great gravity, " My 
 lords and ladies, Mr. Courtney and Mr. Land- 
 man; two estimable and worthy gentlemen." 
 
 There was some one playing at the farther 
 end of the room from which Madame Marie 
 came to greet them. 
 
 She shook hands cordially with Mr. Landman, 
 whose eyes were still fastened on the bewitching 
 Consuelo, then turning to Mr. Courtney said, 
 "I fear in your effort to give honour and pleas- 
 ure to your friends, you are overtaxing your 
 strength." 
 
 " It's a great sacrifice to stay away from you 
 all," said the clergyman. The next moment he 
 was holding another woman's hands, and he was 
 conscious of some one saying, " It is a pleasure 
 to see you out again." 
 
 What followed, some introductions, some allu- 
 sions to the presence of a Mr. Gabalosky, the 
 Russian pianist, among them, all seemed to him 
 like a confused murmur, like a sea of voices.
 
 CHAINS THAT GALL 179 
 
 He was thankful when he found a chair in the 
 recess of a rear bay window, for it seemed to 
 him as if the world was rolling from under his 
 feet. He was aware that some one offered him 
 a glass of water, and he found that it was the 
 ever thoughtful Consuelo. He could feel the 
 pressure of her small but firm little hand on 
 his arm as she stood beside him, and he became 
 aware of what a womanly little touch she had. 
 He became conscious, too, that some one was 
 playing near him. He thought it was Schil- 
 ler's " Lost Hope." He fancied, too, that he 
 heard a zither sighing at intervals, almost as 
 low and sweet as a baby's whisper. A great 
 peace came over him. He could feel Con- 
 suelo nestling on the arm of his chair. He 
 opened his eyes to smile upon her, and he became 
 aware that Edythe was standing not so very far 
 away from him. He noticed that her eyes were 
 upon the player. It seemed to him as she stood 
 there that she was not looking as strong as when 
 he first saw her, or perhaps he had not noticed 
 until to-night the etherealness of her figure or 
 the spirituality of her face. There was such a 
 world of tenderness in her glorious eyes. Perhaps 
 the earnestness of his gaze attracted her, for she
 
 180 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 turned and looked at him, and he still kept his 
 eyes upon her long after she turned away, and 
 the thought came to him, was she aware of his 
 love for her ? Whether she was or not, he could 
 not tell, for she gave no answer in her eyes. 
 She seemed tenderer with him than before, but 
 he knew that that was because he had been so 
 ill. Sympathy should not be mistaken for love, 
 though it sometimes leads to it. She came up 
 to him at that moment and told him of two little 
 artistes, very dear friends of hers, who were going 
 to sing for them, and she wanted him to be sure 
 and listen to them. 
 
 " They are the twin sisters Mather," added 
 Consuelo in a whisper. "We must keep very still 
 now," she said gravely, putting her wee fingers 
 to her lips. Edythe smiled upon her and sat 
 down not very far away. It was Madame her- 
 self who brought the young girls forward. Mr. 
 Courtney noticed that they were very pretty, and 
 although they acknowledged with ease the ap- 
 plause that greeted them, they lacked the manner 
 of the professional. An angular-looking gentle- 
 man, with an immense head of hair, took his seat 
 at the piano. The song was " My Old Kentucky 
 Home." Mr. Courtney was at once aware of
 
 CHAINS THAT GALL l8l 
 
 the remarkable sweetness and pathos of their 
 voices. 
 
 " The head must bow, and the back will have to bend 
 Wherever the darkey may go ; 
 A few more years, and our troubles all will end 
 In the land where the sugar-cane grow." 
 
 Madame was watching Mr. Courtney's face, 
 and she saw that his interest had been aroused. 
 She saw, too, that he applauded as heartily as the 
 rest of the company when the song was over. 
 
 Following the little twin sisters Mather, some 
 one recited, and then Mr. Courtney rose to go. 
 
 " I always forget in your hospitable home, 
 Madame Marie, that there is such a thing as time 
 and tide." 
 
 "There isn't for those who will not heed it, 
 like myself," laughed Madame. " The division of 
 time into hours, days, and years was merely one 
 man's invention, and his superstitious descendants 
 have been carrying it out to an alarming extent 
 ever since. I find that we must arrange time to 
 our own liking haste has lost many a fortune. 
 Is it not Shakespeare who so truly says, ' There's 
 a time and means for every man alive ' ? " 
 
 " I think it is," said Mr. Courtney. " Some 
 day, perhaps, the world will move on a more
 
 1 82 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 systematic and scientific basis. Time among other 
 things will have undergone a change, though I 
 suppose it is rather an old tree to be transplanted." 
 
 " Hinges may be got for old gates as well as 
 new ones," replied Madame, laughing again; "not 
 that I have any hopes of the world ever swinging 
 on a different axis, for it never will." 
 
 He was on his way out only the moment before, 
 and now he found himself seated again and talk- 
 ing to Consuelo and one of the little Mather girls, 
 and he became aware in the midst of all this 
 music, life, and light that he was feeling more 
 like himself than he had for weeks. For the 
 moment the weariness and the weakness of his 
 illness seemed to have left him. Strength seemed 
 to be coming back to him. Until that moment 
 he had not noticed how much of a company it 
 was. It was always so bright at Madame Marie's. 
 Though it was a summer's night, the long rooms 
 were cool. He noticed that the lights in the 
 room had been subdued by pink shades of some 
 soft silk texture ; a breath of wind stirred the 
 curtains at the windows gently. He looked about 
 for Edythe. He was about to ask- Consuelo for 
 her when he remembered that some one was 
 singing in the bay window, one of Schumann's
 
 CHAINS THAT GALL 183 
 
 ballads, so he leaned back against the cushions 
 to listen. And he found himself gradually for- 
 getting the singer and thinking and dreaming of 
 Edythe. But the song passed out into the night 
 and the world, and Consuelo awakened him from 
 his revery. 
 
 "You mustn't look so sad," she said, nestling 
 closer to him, " or some day when you're not ex- 
 pecting it I shall feel so sorry for you that I 
 shall hug you, and hug you hard," she emphasized. 
 
 " If I thought you were a young woman of your 
 word, as I believe you to be, from this day forth 
 I would look no other way than sorrowful." 
 
 At this Consuelo laughed merrily and threw 
 her arms about his neck and kissed him. 
 
 " I am a young woman of my word," she said 
 haughtily. 
 
 Edythe saw that he was going, and she went 
 forward. 
 
 " You look brighter for coming to-night," she 
 said, taking his hand in parting. " It seemed 
 like old times to have you with us again." 
 
 It was in his heart to tell her how much pleas- 
 ure it had given him to be there, and to be with 
 her ; but just then some one began to sing again, 
 and the opportunity, such as it was, was lost.
 
 1 84 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 When he reached home it was two o'clock. 
 There was an envelope lying on his study table 
 addressed in Dr. Mcllvaine's familiar handwrit- 
 ing. On the corner was written "12 P.M." He 
 opened it to find merely his visiting card. He 
 could feel the doctor's influence about the room, 
 turn where he would. Several times he thought 
 he must still be in waiting, and he would yet see 
 a figure clad in a black cassock move and come 
 toward him. He pushed aside the curtains, and 
 turning the lights low sat down by the window. 
 There was a strong breeze blowing. Self was 
 commencing to struggle with his soul again, and 
 only one could win in the end, he knew. He 
 had come to a turning-point in his life where two 
 roads met. There was no hesitating on the 
 brink. He tried to frame a prayer as he sat 
 there meditating, but he failed, and when the day 
 changed life with the night, Rodgers Courtney 
 was still awake and thinking self and soul 
 were still contending, though it was no longer 
 an evenly matched combat. 
 
 " If I give up one, it must be the work," he 
 said. " If I cannot preach the gospel, I can 
 always live it ; and God will be merciful, since He 
 is all love, and love is eternal."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 THE DIE HAS BEEN CAST 
 
 " BUT God never intended us for each other." 
 
 " In your heart, you do not think that, Edythe." 
 
 The afternoon was cool and still. Some one 
 was playing an organ in the street. Edythe 
 drew her chair nearer the window to listen to 
 it, but Mr. Courtney never turned from where 
 he had stood beside her. The laughter of some 
 children reached them. Edythe looked up at him, 
 and smiled. 
 
 " There is nothing in the world like the happi- 
 ness of children, is there ? " she said. 
 
 He walked to the window and looked out. It 
 is doubtful if he heard her question. 
 
 " We are too far up to see them," she continued, 
 when he did not speak. " We can only hear the 
 music of their voices." 
 
 She had risen to draw the curtains away from 
 the window. For a moment she stood so close 
 to him that it was in his heart to take her in his 
 arms. 
 
 185
 
 1 86 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 The laughter of the children floated on the air 
 again. It broke the silence, which was deathlike 
 in its stillness. Edythe looked up at him again. 
 "You surely hear them now," she said. 
 
 He turned and faced her. 
 
 " You know that my thoughts were with you," 
 he said. He stood beside her now with his hand 
 on the back of her chair. 
 
 " I never thought that our friendship would lead 
 to this," Edythe said after a moment. There was 
 a tremor in her voice as she spoke. 
 
 " I knew it would," Mr. Courtney said calmly. 
 " I felt when I met you that we were put here 
 for each other, and separated by circumstance." 
 
 " Then why did you come here, knowing as you 
 did that I was not free ? " 
 
 "God knows I couldn't help it," the young 
 clergyman replied. He rose again and went to 
 the window. He stood there for a moment as if 
 reflecting upon what he had said, then he added, 
 " I cannot believe but that you knew that I loved 
 you; but if you did not know it, you shall know it 
 now, because I do because I love you." 
 
 Edythe glanced up at him, and he noticed that 
 her eyes were filled with tears. 
 
 "What would the world say if this should
 
 THE DIE HAS BEEN CAST 187 
 
 reach its ears ? " she said. " I do not care for my- 
 self, but for my children and for you. You had 
 no right to speak to me as you have." As he 
 looked at her, he saw that her mouth was trem- 
 bling. She turned her face away from him as he 
 sat down beside her. 
 
 "I understand you," he said. 
 
 "That I am not free?" 
 
 " In name only," he replied. " As for the 
 world, it matters not as far as I am concerned 
 what it has to say. It is a cruel world at its 
 best." 
 
 " But it is the only world we know anything 
 of," said Edythe, sadly. 
 
 " Not the only one," said Mr. Courtney, 
 earnestly. 
 
 " The other is but a promised land," said 
 Edythe. "As you know, I believe in nothing 
 beyond this one. Through death we pass into 
 utter oblivion." 
 
 Mr. Courtney turned pale at her words. He 
 rose and steadied himself against the back of a 
 chair. He tried to speak, but his voice failed 
 him. She saw that what she had said had 
 shocked and pained him. Something in her 
 heart was trying to murmur, " Forgive me," but
 
 1 88 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 she held back the words, and they never were 
 spoken. For several moments neither of them 
 spoke. 
 
 " If you are going away as you say," Edythe 
 said, breaking the silence, "it may be that we 
 shall never see each other again." 
 
 Mr. Courtney turned and faced her. He 
 noticed there was no tremor in her voice, and 
 that she spoke bravely. If she cared, no one 
 was the wiser. The woman had experienced 
 despair before. The man was less calm, for he 
 was learning for the first time what it meant. 
 Something told him to go. He moved away 
 from her. 
 
 On reaching the door he hesitated. His emo- 
 tion seemed to be depriving him of the free use 
 of his faculties. He stood there for a moment, 
 then he said, " You will say good-by, if we are 
 never to see each other again." 
 
 Edythe noticed that his voice was trembling. 
 She turned toward him. She saw then the pite- 
 ous smile on his face. She held out her hand to 
 him to say good-by, and instead of passing out, 
 he closed the door and went back to her. 
 
 " You do not mean that this is the end," he 
 said ; " that some day the barriers will not be
 
 THE DIE HAS BEEN CAST 189 
 
 broken down, and I can come back and claim 
 you ? " When she did not answer, he continued, 
 " Just tell me this before I go, that if the time 
 ever comes, you will send for me." 
 
 "You must go away and never think of me 
 again," she replied, " or of this. It should never 
 have happened, but since it has " 
 
 " I am glad that I have told you," Mr. Courtney 
 said. " It was God's will that you should know 
 of my love for you. In spite of the barriers that 
 divide us, we were put here for each other. 
 Whom God joins, let no man put asunder." 
 
 " But God never intended us for each other," 
 Edythe said firmly. She had turned away from 
 him and was standing face to the window, yet she 
 was not looking out. "We are of two different 
 natures," she continued ; " our work lies in two 
 opposite directions. Our faith differs still more 
 widely." 
 
 "That would make no difference to me," said 
 Mr. Courtney, "if you cared for me." For that 
 moment he thought he understood her, that she 
 cared for him and was steeling her heart against 
 him ; that because she was a good woman she was 
 fighting down the love that otherwise she would 
 have given him. He was a strong man, physi-
 
 190 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 cally and mentally. His love for Edythe had 
 taken possession of him, body and soul. As Dr. 
 Mcllvaine had so often repeated in his presence, 
 "No man is invincible." "What if the world 
 should know ? " he thought as he stood there. 
 He would face the consequences. If he could 
 perform but one duty, it should be to her and her 
 always, and so he told her ; and though she heard 
 him, she was silent. 
 
 "You must not forget," she said, perhaps sadly, 
 " when you feel that I could make up the loss and 
 the good of your great work, that some years ago 
 another man loved me." She passed her hand 
 over her eyes, as if to wipe out a vision that was 
 painful to her. " I did not care for him, and he 
 knew it; but we were married." There was a 
 strange thrill in her voice as she spoke. " I did 
 not know then what love was, I only learned after 
 I ruined his life that it is something above mere 
 affection, interest, and pity." 
 
 " But you know now ? " said Rodgers. 
 
 A faint colour crept into her pale face, but she 
 did not answer him. We do not know of what she 
 was thinking. The greatest sacrifices are those 
 that the world never hears of, or knows of. 
 There have been other crucifixions since the one
 
 THE DIE HAS BEEN CAST 191 
 
 at Calvary, where the wounds were deep, and 
 where the print of the nails were ever fresh ; but 
 death does not always come for those who wait 
 him, but rather for those who dread him ; and if 
 he comes not, shall we go to the highway and 
 seek him? Poor children of destiny, playthings 
 of fortune, good and ill, victims of circumstance, 
 like so many wash-ups from a shipwreck, cast 
 ashore, helpless at the world's mercy. A great 
 love brings great peace with it, and in her heart 
 Edythe became conscious of the wonderful peace 
 that had come over her. She knew that Mr. 
 Courtney was a good man through and through. 
 In his presence she began to feel that there was 
 a life after this one after all. It was his mission 
 in life to bring the doubter, the sinner, those such 
 as she who would stray, to the haven where they 
 would be, yet he had offered up his work, if 
 demanded of him, because of his love for her. 
 His sacrifice would be a loss to the world ; hers, 
 no one would know of but herself. He did not 
 realize when he stood there before her, looking at 
 her with his grave eyes, that what she was saying 
 was cutting into her heart like a knife, that she 
 was proud of him fond of him, if the truth was 
 known. He did not know that she was giving
 
 192 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 him up because she was too unselfish, too strong 
 to see him sacrifice his life because of her. 
 
 Yet they say the man is stronger than the 
 woman. There are many sayings, and as many 
 sides to each of them. This time the woman 
 proved the exception, if you would call it so. 
 But Rodgers Courtney never knew it. She had 
 told him that his duty was to go on with his work 
 and to think of her no more. He did not know 
 that the coldness in her voice was hiding a wealth 
 of love and tenderness. As he watched her, he 
 wondered how he was ever going to go on living 
 without seeing her. It is after the burial that we 
 realize the gap death has made. She was a beau- 
 tiful woman. It seemed to him as he looked at 
 her that she was more beautiful to-day than he 
 had ever seen her. Yet the future would hold no 
 sight of her ; but he would thank God for having 
 known and loved her in the past. The past, 
 though past, is ofttimes dearer and nearer to us 
 than the present can ever be, and because of it we 
 are able to face the future with hope and resig- 
 nation. 
 
 Mr. Courtney was going now. He held out 
 his hand again to say good-by. She took it hesi- 
 tatingly.
 
 THE DIE HAS BEEN CAST 193 
 
 " If at any time you recall this last meeting," 
 Mr. Courtney said with feeling, "think of me 
 kindly and not with reproach. Woman was made 
 nearer to the likeness and perfection of God than 
 man; she is without his many weaknesses, his 
 many failings ; for that reason, she should be for- 
 bearing, forgiving." 
 
 Edythe laughed nervously. "You forget that 
 I am not angry with you," she said, though she 
 found it hard to say it. " I shall remember you 
 always, and ever kindly, and when you come back 
 to your work again, which you will do later, I 
 want you to renew the friendship with us all, 
 the dear Signer, Madame Marie, little Clare, and 
 Consuelo. They will never know why you went 
 away, and they will talk of you and miss you. 
 I don't know what I can tell Consuelo that 
 will ever comfort her. Her one thought is of 
 you." 
 
 "Perhaps I may write to her," Mr. Courtney 
 said quietly. " I am very fond of her. She has 
 a strangely warm place in my heart." 
 
 " Then I shall tell her that you will write ? " 
 
 " No, for I may not. I am like a captain going 
 to sea with sealed orders I only know that I am 
 going away."
 
 194 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " And you will not tell me when you are coming 
 back ? " She realized now that he was going, 
 what she was giving up, what a sacrifice she had 
 made. And in one of his weakest children, God 
 witnessed the strength of a mighty soldier. 
 
 Some one was ringing at the door of the studio. 
 
 " Good-by and God bless you," said Mr. 
 Courtney, as he took both of her hands in his, 
 and kissed them. 
 
 "And you will not say when you will come 
 back?" 
 
 Their eyes met for a brief moment. "When- 
 ever the barriers are removed and you send for 
 me, I will come," he said, "by the grace of God." 
 
 Mr. Courtney opened the door. It was Mrs. 
 Merrall, Sr., who was waiting. Though surprise 
 was pictured in her face as she recognized him, 
 she shook hands cordially with him as she made 
 some allusion to his recovery, and then, as Edythe 
 went forward, she extended her hand to her, and 
 they crossed the threshold of the studio together.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 HOUSES OF CARDS 
 
 IT was Mrs. Merrall, Sr.'s first visit to the 
 studio of the Barattonis. That she had heard of 
 it, we will assume; and it is to be conjectured that 
 she found it a very different place from that which 
 her imagination had always pictured it. 
 
 That there are several classes of Bohemians, and 
 that they are not all going the pace that kills, Mrs. 
 Merrall, Sr., had never once considered. The 
 word "Bohemian" in itself conjured up to her 
 eyes a multitude of unpardonable sins, a gallery in 
 truth of most curious pictures. That her impres- 
 sions of the studio were more favourable than she 
 expected they would be, we suppose, since she 
 walked about it several times before she was will- 
 ing to be seated. 
 
 She was not a little interested in the portrait of 
 Madame Marie. She had seen her on the boards 
 several times, she remarked to Edythe, as she 
 studied it through her elaborately carved shell
 
 196 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 lorgnette, and was therefore interested. She 
 looked somewhat incredulous at hearing that since 
 she retired, it had not been to some home for in- 
 firm females, and that she was enjoying fewer 
 years and more wealth than herself, though the 
 latter was but a mental calculation, since Edythe 
 only informed her that she was not dependent as 
 yet on either crutches or charity. To this remark 
 Mrs. Merrall merely assented by a slight raising 
 of her eyebrows as she passed on to other pictures. 
 
 She paused next at a little painting of Ghleska. 
 It was a side view, and gave one a better impres- 
 sion of his hair than of his features. It was a 
 clever picture, painted by some master of the 
 brush, although Mrs. Merrall, Sr., characterized 
 it as a "clever hair advertisement." She again 
 appeared incredulous when Edythe told her that 
 he was not entirely unknown. She had " never 
 heard of him," and that to her mind was a suffi- 
 cient reason for excluding him from the ranks of 
 the recognized. 
 
 The elder Mrs. Merrall always gave one the 
 impression that she was weighing everything with 
 several ounces of doubt. She had heard of Lon- 
 spetti, but she was not interested in the several 
 pictures of him that Dorothy had made.
 
 HOUSES OF CARDS 197 
 
 "I was tempted to go and hear him once," 
 she said. Edythe wondered if she had forgotten 
 that she was the " tempter " on this evidently 
 memorable occasion. " But the music was too 
 uncanny for one of my musical education to 
 fancy." 
 
 There was a series of coloured sketches by some 
 maker of caricatures that pleased her, also one of 
 the earlier pictures of Millais. To other minds 
 than hers there was much else in the long studio 
 to attract and interest one besides the pictures ; the 
 whole effect of rugs, draperies, and cushions was 
 harmonious to an extreme. It is possible that 
 Mrs. Merrall came under the spell of the studio's 
 delightful influence, for she now appeared a little 
 less formidable than when she had entered. 
 
 "You have a comfortable home here," she said, 
 when she was at last seated. Edythe smiled. A 
 bird called to another bird across the studio and 
 it attracted Mrs. Merrall's attention for the mo- 
 ment. 
 
 " Is it possible that that is Vic ? " she inquired, 
 pointing to the nearest bird with her chiffon 
 parasol. 
 
 " It certainly is the same dear bird," Edythe re- 
 plied, wondering what comment was to be made on
 
 198 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Vic's prolonged stay in the land of earth's sun- 
 shine. 
 
 " She sings well," Mrs. Merrall continued, "for 
 such an old bird. I remember the day Geoffrey 
 sent her home the day Douglas was born, and 
 she sings still ? " 
 
 " As well as ever," said Edythe with a smile ; 
 "but they tell me that she never sings when I'm 
 out." 
 
 Mrs. Merrall, Sr., again looked incredulous. 
 " As if an atom like a bird would know the dif- 
 ference," she said. " If memory serves me right, 
 I used to hear her singing very merrily up in your 
 studio when I know you were not there. She may 
 have changed, though, since then," Mrs. Merrall 
 consented to allow. 
 
 Edythe smiled again. "Very likely," was all 
 she said. 
 
 She knew from many years of experience that it 
 was as useless arguing with Mrs. Merrall, Sr., as 
 carrying on a debate with the cold, white moon. 
 There had been occasions when it had been neces- 
 sary to discuss some things at length with her, but 
 as she looked at her seated before her in all the 
 hauteur and magnificence of which she was a born 
 mistress, she was inwardly thankful that even
 
 HOUSES OF CARDS 199 
 
 those things had come to an end. She looked up 
 once to find Mrs. Merrall looking at her, curiously 
 or kindly, she couldn't tell which. 
 
 " I am sure you are wondering what has brought 
 me here ? " said the elder woman. She studied a 
 ruffle of her parasol as she spoke. " I know I owe 
 you an apology for so intruding upon you." She 
 paused as if for a reply. Edythe noticed that 
 making an apology was manifestly disagreeable to 
 her. 
 
 " I am sorry that you look at it in that light," 
 Edythe said kindly. " You have been invited here 
 so often." 
 
 Mrs. Men-all's nostrils dilated a little. To be 
 treated as an equal in Bohemia was the thought 
 that occurred to her, a woman of her preeminence. 
 She remembered that one of her ancestors was one 
 of the Signers, and still another, one of the great- 
 est generals American history has record of. 
 Though her son had been one of the lions of the 
 " Four Hundred," her name appeared only in the 
 set that was known exclusively as the " Knicker- 
 bockers." As Edythe had often heard her say, 
 " Money opens no doors at the Knickerbockers'." 
 It was evident that she was not pleased at being 
 reminded that her visit was in any way an accepted
 
 200 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 obligation, but she allowed the remark to pass 
 without comment. It was some moments be- 
 fore either of the women spoke again, and it was 
 then the elder woman who broke the silence. 
 " You probably do not know what my object was 
 in coming here," she said slowly. She paused for 
 Edythe to reply, but the younger woman only 
 smiled and waited for her to continue. Mrs. 
 Merrall, Sr., again studied the structure of her 
 chiffon parasol. 
 
 " It is needless to say that Geoffrey knows noth- 
 ing of this visit." She paused. " I shall be glad 
 if he never hears of it," she said. 
 
 " As I have no communications with Geoffrey, it 
 could hardly reach him through me," Edythe said 
 calmly. His mother drew a sigh of relief. 
 
 " I thought of his bankers," she said. 
 
 "I have had no occasion to confer with them 
 since the separation. As we have separate 
 accounts, a conference with them need not touch 
 at all on personal matters." She glanced up under 
 the scrutiny of Mrs. Merrall's eyes. She felt that 
 she was regarding her narrowly. Edythe resented 
 it, but was careful enough not to sound the first 
 note of war. Mrs. Merrall settled back in her 
 chair again. " I have come to know what you are
 
 HOUSES OF CARDS 2OI 
 
 going to do about Geoffrey and the children. It 
 is a painful subject, though not as painful to you as 
 to me. You will feel bitter toward me for broach- 
 ing it." 
 
 "Not at all," interrupted Edythe. "I beg of 
 you to continue." There was decided enmity in 
 the tone, and Mrs. Merrall noticed it. 
 
 " You do not understand me," she said quickly, 
 "that a mother's interest in her son's welfare is 
 different from 
 
 " His wife's," said Edythe. 
 
 She said it bravely, for she saw that her 
 mother-in-law was anxious if possible to avoid the 
 word. 
 
 " You will not tell me, I suppose, if you intend 
 to remain his wife, or let him have his freedom ? " 
 
 After a few moments, Edythe looked up. For 
 the first time in all the years she had known her, 
 Mrs. Merrall caught the great beauty of her eyes. 
 If she had been angry with her, the anger passed. 
 
 " Is it Geoffrey's wish ? " Edythe said at last, 
 slowly. 
 
 Mrs. Merrall reflected a moment. " Since you 
 will not return to him." 
 
 "You think, then, it is his wish to be free 
 again ? "
 
 202 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 "I think it would be better," replied Mrs. 
 Merrall, avoiding a direct answer to her question. 
 " He is a young man ; he has his life before 
 him." 
 
 " And the children have theirs." There was a 
 tone of sadness in her voice. Mrs. Merrall 
 noticed, too, that her face grew very white as she 
 spoke of them. She buried her face in her hands. 
 " The children," she said again quietly, " I had not 
 thought of them ; I mean that I might be stand- 
 ing in their light." 
 
 Mrs. Merrall was deeply touched for the mo- 
 ment, but she gathered her will and her senses 
 quickly about her, as a general might his soldiers, 
 and remained firm and formidable. There was 
 a short silence. Both women were in deep 
 thought. 
 
 " It is your wish," said Edythe, " that I pass out 
 of the children's life while they are young and 
 will forget me, or in remembrance will recall me 
 with a sense of reproach where there should be 
 but pity to meet them in after years and to 
 feel that, I am nothing to them." 
 
 "You did not think of this when you left 
 them." 
 
 " I went because I could stand the convention-
 
 HOUSES OF CARDS 203 
 
 ality of society no longer." Her eyes brightened 
 strangely as she spoke. Tears came to them, 
 but she brushed them away. " I could stand it 
 no longer," she said again, " the monotony, the 
 restlessness, the insincerity of it all palled upon 
 me. People talk of the false glamour of the 
 stage; it is nothing to the gilded atmosphere in 
 which modern society lives. It is a ceaseless 
 strife among the builders of houses of cards." 
 
 Mrs. Merrall, Sr., rose to go. She had not 
 noticed in the painful agitation of the moment 
 that a child had entered the room in some stage 
 of the conversation, and was standing at some 
 little distance from her regarding her seriously. 
 
 Edythe rose with her guest. She held out her 
 hand, for she noticed that Mrs. Merrall was about 
 to go, but that lady ignored it. Consuelo went 
 forward and opened the door for her. Edythe 
 saw that she was going away angry with her, and 
 she regretted it. 
 
 "I am sorry," she said, though with colourless 
 civility, as Mrs. Merrall paused for a moment 
 on the threshold, " if I have offended you ; it 
 was far from intentional." 
 
 Mrs. Merrall reflected a moment, and as she 
 turned Edythe thought she saw a gleam of
 
 204 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 friendliness in her face. She extended her 
 hand. 
 
 A moment later the footman on the waiting 
 victoria was seen to assist a lady into the carriage, 
 but the incident was of interest only to the chil- 
 dren gathered about it.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " He that negotiates between God and man 
 Is God's ambassador." COWPER. 
 
 THE next morning Rodgers Courtney called at 
 the rectory and resigned his charge at Calvary 
 Church. 
 
 " I am giving it up because I need a rest," Mr. 
 Courtney said after a moment's silence. 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine studied the face of the young 
 clergyman long and earnestly. " You have given 
 the matter thought, I hope ? " he said. 
 
 " Much thought," was the reply. 
 
 " And you can come to no better decision ? " 
 
 " None." 
 
 In his surprise for the moment Dr. Mcllvaine 
 had forgotten to ask Mr. Courtney to be seated. 
 He did so now, but failed to notice that his vis- 
 itor still remained standing. The doctor was too 
 greatly affected to notice anything. He paced 
 to and fro the long study, reflecting, meditating, 
 
 205
 
 206 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 thinking. Two natures seemed to grapple with 
 him for possession : one the tenderness of the 
 man, the kindliness, the forbearance ; the other, 
 his better-known self, firm, unrelenting, merci- 
 less, loveless. 
 
 When he looked at the young man standing 
 at his window, and saw and reflected upon the 
 whiteness of his face and the frailness of the 
 figure that had once been so strong, he was 
 moved to be merciful with him, to show sympathy, 
 pity, love, compassion ; but then when he reflected, 
 he could not 
 
 Mr. Courtney was moving to go, but Dr. 
 Mcllvaine interrupted him, and Rodgers noticed 
 that the doctor's face was twitching nervously. 
 
 " I feared this would be the end," he said. " I 
 prayed God to avert it night and day ; but in 
 His all-wise judgment He has not seen fit to 
 answer my prayer." 
 
 Rodgers Courtney's lips were firmly set. 
 " Whether you are giving up the church in resign- 
 ing your work here, I do not know," continued 
 Dr. Mcllvaine. " Perhaps it is better that you 
 should, since man cannot serve two masters." 
 
 "You do not understand me," interrupted Mr. 
 Courtney. " I am giving up my work here in
 
 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 2O/ 
 
 order to go abroad and rest. I need it, and I can- 
 not live if I do not have it. As to my work, with 
 the help and' grace of God I shall live and die 
 a clergyman of the Church of England." 
 
 " But where the will is, there must the heart be 
 also," said Dr. Mcllvaine. 
 
 "There shall the heart be," replied Rodgers 
 Courtney. 
 
 " You will promise me in going away that you 
 will put down Satan under your feet, and never 
 mistake his calling blindly for God's ? " 
 
 "I will," was the reply, "with the help of God." 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine was touched with the sincerity of 
 the reply. " Then I can let you go," he said 
 earnestly, " knowing that all will be well with 
 you, and that some day you will come back wiser, 
 stronger, nobler for the experience with the outer 
 world." 
 
 " There has been no experience with the outer 
 world, Dr. Mcllvaine. I have loved, and I have 
 suffered for it, but in that there is no sin." 
 
 "Then we look at it differently," said Dr. Mc- 
 llvaine. " As your spiritual head and adviser, I 
 must warn you that the guises of the devil are 
 many ; they come in the form of love, duty, even 
 help and comfort. We must ever be prepared for
 
 208 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 him. Satan is fighting for every individual soul on 
 the earth yours and mine. He never gives up 
 hope, he is adding to his army tenfold every day. 
 There are millions who seek to walk in his ranks ; 
 for those there is no fighting for possession. It 
 is only for the souls of righteous men that Satan 
 is willing and ever ready to fight. When I look 
 about me sometimes, I wonder that God does not 
 come in all His glory and put an end to the world, 
 put an end before heresy has trodden down the 
 faith of our fathers." 
 
 " It would be better so, no doubt," said the 
 younger man, " though as far as the individual is 
 concerned, the sleep of death is in reality the end 
 of the world to him." 
 
 " Death alone does not break the link," said 
 Dr. Mcllvaine, "and though we have passed on to 
 another state, we are still bound to the world until 
 the judgment, when the earth will give up its dead 
 forever." 
 
 " We differ, then," said Mr. Courtney. " It is 
 my belief that those who die pass to the kingdom 
 of God and to His presence, and are judged." 
 
 " And it has always been my belief, my theory," 
 interrupted Dr. Mcllvaine, "that death takes us 
 to a land where Christ is better understood, loved,
 
 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 209 
 
 and awaited, as to a mansion where the host is 
 expected, where we shall be near Him, and yet 
 not with Him. I believe it is at the general res- 
 urrection that all souls will see Him face to face. 
 In that transient state, man will develop, the weak 
 will become strong, the savage civilized, the old 
 young, the child will have matured, the sinner 
 will have had time for repentance. The word 
 'death' merely means the separation of the soul 
 from the body, the progress onward of the spirit." 
 
 "If we shall know in that new state some of the 
 reasons for our troubled life here, it will come as a 
 comfort, though it will come late." 
 
 Moved by the sadness of Mr. Courtney's words, 
 Dr. Mcllvaine looked him full in the face. " As 
 I look into your life," said the doctor, " I can see 
 nothing but the promise and the fulfilment of 
 great and good things." He hesitated a moment, 
 then he said : " It is men like you that the world 
 would trip; if I may still better express my 
 thoughts, that the world would scar. It is those 
 who have been tempted sorely and deeply, and 
 have trodden down the tempter, that may be called 
 brave and are fit for His service. God does not 
 give a weak man a strong man's work to do. In 
 our temptation we must remember that He gave
 
 210 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 His only begotten and well-beloved son to the 
 world for man's salvation. He allowed Him to be 
 tempted, betrayed, crucified. He gave His only 
 son that the world might be saved from sin ; and 
 ever since the expulsion of Adam and Eve from 
 the garden, the will of the Father has been 
 defiled, forgotten, debased. In this race for indi- 
 vidual gain, in this self-centred existence, in this 
 life of fraud and hypocrisy, we forget that God's 
 punishment must come. The sin which is the 
 darkness through which the world is passing may 
 be the last hour before the dawn, when the hearts 
 of all men shall be made known, when even the 
 mystery and secrets of the stars will be disclosed. 
 Only our own hearts can say whether He will 
 come to find us wanting." 
 
 Though Dr. Mcllvaine was a man of a hard 
 nature, merciless in its intensity, yet in his words 
 that day he revealed the sympathetic side of his 
 nature, and in his eyes there shone through the 
 fearlessness and the coldness of the gaze a love 
 for the young clergyman which nearer approached 
 adoration. Perhaps if he had used the heart as 
 a means to stay him, he might have succeeded. 
 Mr. Courtney was in dire need of love and sym- 
 pathy ; but it is hard sometimes to make a confes~
 
 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 211 
 
 sion, lest it fail. It is so hard to say " I love 
 you," especially hard for one man to say to 
 another. 
 
 The men sat in silence for some little time, then 
 Mr. Courtney spoke : " I appreciate more than 
 you will ever know your interest in me," he said. 
 " You are not a man to give it lightly or freely, 
 and I value it the more. You have spoken to me 
 for my own good, and I shall not forget it. What 
 is not right nor well for me to do I have decided 
 to give up, though it comes hard. I have found 
 how true it is that man advances but in spiral 
 lines and through trials of many kinds." 
 
 " That through the fire we may become perfect," 
 said Dr. Mcllvaine. 
 
 Mr. Courtney had risen to go. He held out his 
 hand, and Dr. Mcllvaine took it and held it in both 
 of his, long, even tenderly. 
 
 " If you are to sail to-morrow, I suppose that 
 this is the parting until the meeting," he said 
 gravely, "which I pray may not be long in 
 coming." 
 
 Mr. Courtney's lips moved to speak, but the 
 words would not come. 
 
 " In the meanwhile God be with you always. I 
 feel as if I was doing wrong in letting you go ; but
 
 212 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 you know best what is needful for the spirit. If 
 something has come into your life which you must 
 and cannot overthrow without going away, you are 
 right, my son, in doing so, but remember always 
 there is the Judas in all of us, and he will betray 
 us with a kiss when he can and so god-speed." 
 
 Rodgers Courtney was wondering if Dr. Mcll- 
 vaine could know why he was going. For a mo- 
 ment he thought of asking him, then he thought, 
 " He will only despise me for it, for I am weak and 
 he is strong." 
 
 A moment later and he had gone. Dr. Mc- 
 Ilvaine stood looking after the retreating figure 
 until it had passed out of his sight, then he sat 
 down and reflected, for he was sorely troubled. 
 " I should have kept him here," he said. " In his 
 work he would have forgotten what he is going 
 away to forget or to remember." That was the 
 question that troubled Dr. Mcllvaine not a little. 
 With no work in hand, nothing to do but to think, 
 to walk sometimes and reflect, would not the mind, 
 unconsciously perhaps, remember, and in remem- 
 brance, regret ? It is easier to think of sacrifices 
 than to make them. Like resolutions, they are 
 nobler in thought than we make them in the deed. 
 In going away, would he forget ? As he thought
 
 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 213 
 
 it out he felt that he had not spoken as he should. 
 In his effort to spare the young man pain and 
 humiliation he had for the time being forgotten 
 another man who had come to him only the week 
 before a man who had given up much and had 
 suffered in silence. As Dr. Mcllvaine recalled 
 that visit, the thought came to him that he was the 
 one to be pitied, not Mr. Courtney. Why had his 
 thoughts so deserted him when he needed them 
 most, he wondered. There was so much he should 
 have told Mr. Courtney. He would tell him now. 
 Though it came as an afterthought, it was not too 
 late. If he only knew what I know, he would find 
 it easier to forget. It is my duty to tell him, lest 
 the world tempt him again. If he knew, it might 
 be the means of saving his soul. He is young, the 
 world will not let him forget her. Music, perhaps, 
 the happiness of others about him, his own loneli- 
 ness, the memory of a face, something would bring 
 it back to him. We are linked to the past, for it 
 has been our possession. The future is but a pos- 
 sible inheritance. The charm and the fascination 
 of the life he is putting aside will appeal to him 
 again. It will return in another light. He is 
 young, he repeated to himself over and over. Self 
 will strive to win.
 
 214 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 As he went out and closed the door it seemed 
 to him that his reason was becoming paralyzed. 
 Though he had expected the blow to ultimately 
 fall upon him, now that it had come, it had come 
 as a shock. "He must stand by his work," he 
 thought. "If rumours crop up, and the debt for 
 the past must be paid, I will stand by him. But 
 he must not go away. If he only knew what I 
 know," thought Dr. Mcllvaine, "and he shall 
 know it before it is too late." 
 
 When he reached Mr. Courtney's home he was 
 told that he had left there early that morning and 
 would not return. In the hall Dr. Mcllvaine 
 could see the library table he knew so well stand- 
 ing there, his bookcases were beside it, a chest of 
 books, his easy chair. He was told they were to 
 be put in storage. It seemed to Dr. Mcllvaine as 
 he saw them that they looked like frightened, woe- 
 begone children huddled together, who knew not 
 why they had been deserted. Something seemed 
 to tell him that Rodgers Courtney was not coming 
 back at present. He returned through the Park 
 on his way home. In his vest pocket he could 
 feel the miniature that Mr. Merrall had left with 
 him on that memorable visit the week before, with 
 the request that it be returned to its owner. Dr.
 
 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 215 
 
 Mcllvaine took it out to look at it, but the face was 
 still hidden in the folds of lavender silk, as Dr. 
 Elliott had found it. 
 
 And Destiny continued with her laws and de- 
 sires, despite man's interference.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 MR. COURTNEY IN LONDON 
 
 WHEN Mr. Courtney reached London, he 
 sought out a church and went there to find 
 peace for his soul. He felt like a man who had 
 cut adrift from the world and was even at vari- 
 ance with God. In the shadow of the crucifix 
 he could find rest. Outside he could hear the 
 ever ceaseless ebb of the world, luring its victims 
 on, ever vain, hypocritical, wicked, yet he had 
 given up his work for God because of it. As he 
 knelt there, the thought came to him of how the 
 tempter, which is ever seeking us, had sought him 
 and found him. He remembered, though not 
 for the first time, how with wide-open eyes he 
 had walked into the snare set by the fowler. 
 
 The service was over and the church almost 
 empty before Mr. Courtney realized it. He then 
 came to himself, that he was alone and unknown 
 in London. For the moment as he stood there 
 it occurred to him to introduce himself to one 
 of the priests who were still in the chancel. 
 
 216
 
 MR. COURTNEY IN LONDON 217 
 
 They would be interested in him, he thought, 
 he was one of them. He had forgotten for the 
 moment why he was in London. Another 
 moment and he had passed out of the church. 
 
 As he passed along the crowded thorough- 
 fare on his way to his lodgings, though he was 
 trying to forget the past like a great trouble 
 that had threatened to destroy him, his mind 
 reverted to America. It was the first time he 
 had allowed himself to think of Edythe since 
 they had parted. He had resolved to go away 
 and forget her; but it is not always possible to 
 forget those we love, and so he found it. She 
 had proved the stronger of the two. It was her 
 will that had saved him from a worse fate than he 
 would have chosen. He had promised her that he 
 would go away and forget her. When he made 
 the promise, he had forgotten what it meant. 
 Did not some one write, but he knew not who, 
 " Absence makes the heart grow fonder." 
 
 In his soul he knew that she had conquered, 
 but he was paying the price. There are no 
 victories ever won without a sacrifice, without 
 some price is paid. If we could read some 
 living and dead hearts, we should know this 
 better.
 
 2l8 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 And as he walked along the thought came 
 to him, "Can this be God's way of testing the 
 weak places in my armour that He may 
 strengthen them ? " A flush rose to his face as 
 the thought occurred to him ; but then he grew 
 strong again for he remembered that he had 
 overthrown the tempter forever, if such love 
 must be called, when he left America and 
 Edythe. The very thought of her name breath- 
 ing from the secret chambers of his heart rose 
 and troubled him. After all, it was her victory, 
 not his, this complete renunciation of soul over 
 self. It was her hands that had lifted the cross 
 he had laid aside, placed it in his arms again, 
 and had bidden him take up his work anew. 
 Conquered, but at what a cost to both ? 
 
 He had reached his rooms now, and he stole 
 in like a thief frightened at what he knew not, 
 unless it had been the reproach of his conscience 
 over the weakness of the man. But man, likened 
 as he is to God, is not strong. He is only made 
 after His image like a clay cast, modelled after 
 the finished marble. 
 
 But why was he thinking of Edythe, he won- 
 dered, as he stood at his window and watched 
 the lights of old London. He had gone away
 
 MR. COURTNEY IN LONDON 219 
 
 to forget her. But only God and he knew that 
 he was breaking his word, his promise and 
 God is ever merciful, he thought. Sometime he 
 knew he must return to his work again and live 
 for the future with no thought of the past. 
 When he did return he must work with no other 
 thought than his duty toward God. He must 
 put his heart and soul into it. It would be a 
 struggle at first; but if his work would go on, 
 love must be crucified. A remembrance came 
 to him of the time when he planned a future with 
 Edythe when she would be free, and his. He 
 remembered how he had pictured their life to- 
 gether. And now she had passed from it for- 
 ever. Perhaps it would be better, he reasoned, 
 if he returned to his work at once. It would 
 be harder as the weeks, perhaps months, passed. 
 Time widens breaches sometimes that even life 
 cannot heal. He felt now as he thought of it 
 that he had showed all the weakness of his 
 nature by going away. He would rest now a 
 little, and return. His work, his conscience, was 
 calling ; would his conscience never let him rest ? 
 He drew up a chair to the window and sat down. 
 It was growing late, and many of the lights of 
 the city were going out. The night was very
 
 220 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 still. As he sat there he thought he heard a 
 child speak in the next apartment. It was not 
 unlike Consuelo's musical voice. He wondered 
 if he could be dreaming. He rose and crossed 
 the room, but the sound of the voice had passed. 
 It had come like a breath from the homelands to 
 a shepherd who had lost his way.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 EBB TIDE 
 
 " You never knew my mother, did you ? " said 
 Maurice. 
 
 The nurse, who was standing at the window, 
 turned. For the moment she was not sure 
 whether the child was awake or was talking in 
 his sleep. During her care of him she had 
 often been awakened at night by his asking for 
 his mother, and when she had gone to him her 
 presence would comfort him and he would fall 
 asleep again. His bed had been moved near an 
 eastern window, and as the nurse watched him 
 she saw that he was awake and looking upward 
 at the sky. He was apparently in thought. It 
 was an early morning in September ; the sun 
 had barely risen. The child was evidently watch- 
 ing it mount its throne in the heavens. 
 
 " It's going to be a nice day, isn't it, Miss 
 Long?" he said. 
 
 "A beautiful one," she replied. 
 
 221
 
 222 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 "We've had so much stormy weather," the 
 little fellow continued. 
 
 "It's been a wet season," said the nurse, as 
 she sat down near him. " Do you think you'll 
 feel strong enough to go for a drive this after- 
 noon ? We'll take the Duchess, you are always 
 fond of riding behind her." 
 
 The boy smiled. "Yes, because she's my 
 mother's horse," he said, and then, turning again 
 to the window, he added, " If it does turn out 
 a nice day, I think my mother may come." 
 
 " You think so ? " said the nurse, kindly, though 
 her heart ached for him when she thought of 
 the disappointment he must bear sooner or later. 
 In her several years' care of sick children he 
 was the most patient and most lovable child she 
 had ever known. 
 
 "You never knew my mother?" he again 
 questioned. 
 
 " No, darling, I never saw her," she replied. 
 
 " You've seen her face in my locket ? " he said, 
 as he felt for the little gold case containing the 
 miniature, which he wore as a locket around his 
 neck. 
 
 "Yes, you've shown it to me," replied the 
 nurse, as she moved her chair closer where she
 
 EBB TIDE 223 
 
 could look at it. "And she looks like you, 
 Maurice," she said brightly. 
 
 " Father says so, too," the child said, blushing 
 a little, "but my grandmother says I do not. 
 She says I am going to look like my grand- 
 father Stuyvesant; but I'd rather look like my 
 mother." 
 
 The nurse thought his mouth trembled a little 
 when he mentioned her, and she noticed, too, 
 as she had not before, how very frail the baby 
 hands had grown within the last week, and yet 
 they were carrying their cross without a murmur. 
 How often to baby lips the cup is lifted, and 
 to small arms the cross is given ! 
 
 The nurse was about to ring for his breakfast 
 when she noticed that Maurice had fallen asleep 
 again. It was time for his medicine, and during 
 the early stage of his illness she would have 
 awakened him in order to carry out instructions, 
 but the physician had told her only the day 
 before that that was no longer necessary. 
 
 It was almost nine o'clock before he awoke 
 again. When he did, his eyes brightened at 
 finding his father sitting beside him on the bed. 
 He reached up his baby arms, and Mr. Merrall 
 stooped and kissed him.
 
 224 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " Good morning, my son," he said tenderly. 
 
 The child kept his arms about his neck for a 
 moment, then he said, looking up into his father's 
 face : " Father, you've been crying. You told 
 me the other night, when I cried because my 
 mother didn't come, that men never cried not 
 even little men like me." 
 
 Mr. Merrall loosened the arms tenderly, and 
 silently wiped away the tears. But his eyes 
 filled again as they are wont to do when a heart 
 is breaking. 
 
 It was the first time Maurice had ever seen 
 his father in any trouble, and it alarmed him. 
 He was too sick a child, ay, too small at all, to 
 know of the great trouble that had come to them 
 all ; to realize that his waiting was to be in 
 vain. 
 
 Maurice put out his hand and laid it in his 
 father's. " Father, will you do something for 
 me," he said, " if I ask you ? " He made an 
 effort to raise himself up on the pillow, but his 
 father had lifted him before he had made the 
 exertion. 
 
 "Will you, father?" the child asked again. 
 
 " I will try, my boy," Mr. Merrall said, as he 
 brushed back the curls from the child's face ;
 
 EBB TIDE 225 
 
 "but sometimes we are not always able to do 
 what is asked of us. You will find that out, 
 dearest, when you are as old as I, and have little 
 boys of your own to take care of." 
 
 " But you do not know what I want you to do, 
 father." 
 
 " I am not sure, of course," came the quiet 
 reply. 
 
 " I want you to go and get my mother," said the 
 child. " Will you, father ? To-day ? " 
 
 Mr. Merrall hesitated a moment before he 
 replied, for it seemed to him as if his heart had 
 surged to his throat and was choking him. 
 
 " And if it must be to wait a little longer, Mau- 
 rice, my boy," he said tenderly, "will you not be 
 patient and wait with me, since she will surely 
 come some day." 
 
 " Soon? " said the child. 
 
 " Yes, soon," repeated Mr. Merrall after him. 
 
 "And some day I shall have her with me 
 always, father ? " 
 
 "Yes, always," he said.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 LIKE A SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT 
 " The world is a masked ball." MERY. 
 
 To one man the sight of a face on shore atoned 
 for the long parting when the St. Paul came to 
 her dock that late October day. There were 
 several there to bid Lonspetti welcome : Madame, 
 the child Consuelo, Ghleska, and Edythe, though 
 in his eyes he could see but one face, and that of 
 the woman he loved, and for love of whom to him 
 all women were perfect. 
 
 It was Consuelo who welcomed him first when 
 he stepped down the gang-plank, bronzed and 
 stouter for his trip. He thought when he took 
 Edythe's hand in his that she was not looking as 
 well as when he went away in the early summer ; 
 but her smile was the same, though in her eyes, 
 to one who knew them, there was a sorrow lurk- 
 ing a sorrow that was too great for the soul to 
 shelter within itself. He questioned Madame 
 about her when they had reached the latter 's 
 
 226
 
 LIKE A SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT 22/ 
 
 apartment. " She is working too hard at the re- 
 hearsals," he was told. " She opens the middle 
 of this month, and you can't drag her from her 
 work." 
 
 " She is not strong enough, she should not be 
 allowed to do it," Lonspetti said, and there was 
 feeling in his voice. 
 
 Madame elevated her well-arched brows as if 
 such a thing was impossible, and turned to caress 
 Consuelo, who had just come up. 
 
 " I'm very glad you're home, Signer," that 
 young lady said, as she regarded him from where 
 she leaned against her grandmother. The Signer 
 smiled kindly. He thought he detected shyness 
 in the child's voice. 
 
 " I was beginning to wonder if all my friends 
 were going abroad," she added, after a moment's 
 deliberation, as she leaned her flaxen head closer 
 to Madame. " You know some one else has gone 
 since you went away ? " she murmured. 
 
 " No, and who can that be ? " 
 
 Madame and the Signor were now seated, but 
 the child remained standing. 
 
 "A great friend of all of us," she answered; 
 then she bit her lips nervously. 
 
 " You little witch, you're worrying me," laughed
 
 228 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 the Signor, good-naturedly, as he drew her to him 
 and then up on the divan beside him. 
 
 " Mr. Courtney has gone abroad for a time," 
 Madame said, as she noted the child's unhappiness. 
 
 "You surprise me," said the Signor, "and how 
 long has he been gone ? " 
 
 " A long time," Corisuelo answered, with touch- 
 ing graveness, "and he's not coming back very 
 soon he told me so." 
 
 Madame rose at that moment to greet some 
 friends who had hesitated on the threshold for 
 lack of a welcome, and these she brought forward 
 to introduce to the Signor. 
 
 " I am going to present to you, Signor, two old 
 friends of mine," and she introduced the British 
 Consul and Mr. Raffaelli, the Italian actor. The 
 Signor shook hands cordially with them both. " I 
 knew absolutely nothing of this welcome," he said, 
 when they were all seated, with the exception of 
 Madame, who had left them for the moment. " I 
 must therefore ask the indulgence of my good 
 friends for my travel-worn raiment." 
 
 " In speaking thus you cast reflection upon the 
 garments of us all," laughed Mr. Raffaelli. 
 
 There was a momentary pause as there is wont 
 to be among men recently come together, which
 
 LIKE A SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT 229 
 
 Mr. Cavendish, the British Consul, interrupted by 
 inquiring for the ladies ; Mrs. Merrall he particu- 
 larly mentioned. 
 
 "Of them I know not," laughed the Signor; 
 " to my thinking they are all in one of the smaller 
 rooms. Mrs. Merrall came up from the pier with 
 us; but something has apparently attracted her 
 elsewhere." 
 
 " If you will pardon me I will look for her," 
 Mr. Cavendish said, rising, and adjusting his 
 monocle he hastened away. 
 
 " It's a case of pure infatuation," Mr. Raffaelli 
 was moved to disclose when Mr. Cavendish was 
 out of hearing. " I introduced them a few nights 
 ago, and the man will talk of little else since." 
 
 " I admire his exquisite taste," replied the 
 Signor, quietly. 
 
 " Truly, most excellent," Mr. Raffaelli replied. 
 
 Madame brought up some other friends at that 
 moment, and the two men drifted apart. He 
 learned later in the evening that Mr. Raffaelli 
 was the Romeo of Edythe's forthcoming produc- 
 tion of Shakespeare's love masterpiece. He had 
 wondered when he was talking to him if he had 
 ever played the r61e, the whole appearance of 
 the man suggested it. He was tall, and had the
 
 230 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 dark hair and skin of the Italian race. His eyes 
 were very large and tenderly kind. He was an 
 old friend of Madame's, he learned later. It was 
 his first visit to America. He had had a great 
 trouble, and he was glad to come at her invitation 
 to new scenes and friends the latter the Signer 
 was confident he would find. 
 
 There were a good many to welcome the Sig- 
 nor home that night, though there was a decided 
 lull in the arrivals between seven and eleven. 
 As Madame said, by way of apology, "The 
 old world had to be amused and pacified, even if 
 it did take the greater number of her guests to 
 do it. Selfish old world." 
 
 Ghleska, who always endeavoured to make his 
 business engagements favour his social ones with- 
 out detriment to either, was reminded by a mes- 
 senger boy at nearly eight in the evening that he 
 was expected at a Waldorf-Astoria concert; that 
 Madame Miranda, whom he was to accompany, 
 was waiting impatiently, etc. He consulted his 
 note-book to find that the engagement had not 
 been put down and in consequence was not post- 
 poned or given up as it should have been had he 
 remembered it in connection with the Signer's 
 home-coming. Unhappy Ghleska !
 
 LIKE A SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT 231 
 
 There were only a few at the early repast of 
 the evening, and this was set in Madame's bou- 
 doir for want of a better place while the guests 
 were arriving. A telegram came from Emma 
 Marie just as they were about to sit down that 
 she would get in from Washington at eight, and 
 wanted Consuelo sent to the station to meet her. 
 Of course that young lady was only too anxious 
 to carry out her mother's wishes, and Mr. Caven- 
 dish was asked to escort her ladyship hence. 
 Some guests next interrupted Madame's supper, 
 and she decided then and there to postpone it 
 indefinitely. 
 
 Edythe had not moved from where Lonspetti 
 first saw her when he entered the Enchanted 
 Palace, as he was wont to call Madame's fairy 
 boudoir. She was still sitting where Mr. Caven- 
 dish had unwillingly left her in the little bay 
 window of the room, her face turned toward the 
 window. Her supper, which was on a table be- 
 side her, was untouched. The moon, which was 
 trying its best to make itself seen, looked in upon 
 her several times, and as she turned her face a 
 little Lonspetti saw that it was unnaturally white. 
 He wondered as he watched her sitting there 
 alone why she didn't turn to him. He knew that
 
 232 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 she must be aware of his presence in the room. 
 Surely she couldn't be so infatuated with Caven- 
 dish, he thought, that she would neglect her old 
 friends. Raffaelli and Dorothy had kept up a 
 most active conversation at their end of the tea- 
 table, but it had been lost to Lonspetti, who was 
 hardly aware of their presence. They rose now 
 and went out, and Lonspetti crossed the room to 
 Edythe. But he did not sit down beside her of 
 his own volition, not until she turned to him, and 
 seeing who it was drew him to a place on the 
 window-seat beside her. He saw then when he 
 looked her full in the eyes that they were full of 
 unshed tears. 
 
 "You are unhappy," Lonspetti said when she 
 did not speak. 
 
 " No, only tired," she replied, though her mouth 
 quivered a little as she said it. "I've been work- 
 ing hard, that is all," then looking up at him, 
 " but I should have forgotten myself to-night in 
 the happiness of having you back again. I know 
 I have been selfish, but you will forgive me." 
 As she spoke she laid a hand down on his, and 
 he took it up in both of his, and kissed it. 
 
 " I'm sorry, no matter what it is that troubles 
 you," he said. " I am sorry, very sorry."
 
 LIKE A SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT 233 
 
 "You never think of yourself, Signer," said 
 Edythe, "so you don't know what selfishness 
 is." 
 
 " Perhaps I know," said Lonspetti. " If I 
 stand on any pedestal in your eyes, let me de- 
 scend, for I am the most mortal of men, and in- 
 heritor of many weaknesses and human frailties 
 rather than the virtues which fit us for immortal- 
 ity." He looked down at her, and he saw that 
 the tears were gathering in her eyes. 
 
 "You won't tell me what troubles you," he said 
 gently, but she did not answer him. Consuelo 
 came in at that moment and announced with all 
 gravity that Miss Marion had brought a gentle- 
 man with her who could foretell the future of 
 any one without a single failure. 
 
 " Has he told yours, my precious one ? " Edythe 
 asked, as she rose to go back to the rooms with 
 her. 
 
 " He told mine first," promptly answered the 
 child. " He says that I'll never be a public woman 
 like my mother or grandmere, and that I'll marry 
 before I'm twenty either a lawyer or a clergy- 
 man." 
 
 " Splendid," exclaimed Lonspetti, as he stepped 
 forward and parted the portieres for them to pass
 
 234 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 through. " And you never have wanted to be an 
 actress, have you ? " he said, again joining them. 
 
 " No, indeed," she replied frankly. " There are 
 too many ups and downs to the profession to suit 
 me. I want a quiet life." 
 
 When the Signer betrayed the child's confidence 
 to Madame, she laughed, though there was a touch 
 of sadness in the voice. " Poor child, her mother's 
 unsuccessful career has given her a prejudice 
 against the life for herself." 
 
 " But Emma has been more or less success- 
 ful ? " 
 
 Madame smiled kindly. " She certainly knows 
 how to stir things up with a big spoon," she said. 
 " She forgets that fish do not remain long in whirl- 
 pools, they prefer contemplating the choice of the 
 bait after their own fashion." He turned to shake 
 hands with Emma, who had just caught sight of 
 him ; but before he had had a word with her some 
 one at the end of the long room began to sing, and 
 they sat down to listen. The singer was unknown 
 to Lonspetti. He could only see at intervals as 
 the crowd moved a young man with an eager 
 white face, a face with only a pair of large melan- 
 choly eyes to redeem it, but a voice that one would 
 not be likely to forget. Before the young singer
 
 LIKE A SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT 235 
 
 had reached the second stanza of the song 
 Lonspetti found himself standing almost at the 
 young man's side. It was a love-song of Schu- 
 mann's. Madame said afterward that he looked 
 like an inspired man as he stood there and listened 
 to it. If despair unbidden had crossed the thresh- 
 old of his heart where hope had been, it passed 
 . out again with the last words of the song. Lon- 
 spetti had watched Edythe with Mr. Cavendish, 
 and he saw that she was not interested in him. 
 Perhaps, after all, he had been mistaken. Edythe 
 was not sitting far from him during the song, and 
 several times he saw her brush some tears away. 
 " Perhaps, after all, she cares for thee," his heart 
 was trying to murmur to him ; but he stilled it 
 gently, for he dared not allow himself to hope. 
 Some one broke in upon his revery by asking him 
 to play. It was Madame Miranda, the Swedish 
 diva. He could not, he told her, because the 
 Stradivarius had. been left at his apartment on the 
 way from the pier. He remembered afterward 
 that her smile was that of a woman who was not 
 accustomed to being refused a request. He could 
 have sent for the violin, at least, she thought ; but 
 she only bowed and withdrew. " She did not 
 realize that I was too tired to play to-night," Lon-
 
 236 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 spetti thought when she had gone. He regretted 
 that he had refused a woman anything that was in 
 his power to grant. The greatest happiness in the 
 world he felt was in giving them pleasure. But 
 he was tired to-night. In the joy of returning 
 home, he had slept but little on the way. There 
 would be plenty of time to rest after he reached 
 home, he thought after he had seen her once 
 again, the living woman of his dreams. He told 
 Edythe of the occurrence when she came up to 
 him later, and she laughed at him for being so 
 serious. For the moment she looked like her old 
 self again before that tired look came into her 
 face, and before that unhappiness had sought 
 possession of her eyes. He was only tired, he 
 told her, that was the answer that she had given 
 him. It would suffice again. She sat down for a 
 moment on a divan beside him. As he looked at 
 her there, he thought that he must go still farther 
 back than when he went away to remember when 
 he had seen her look so care-free and happy. He 
 did not realize that she was only feigning her 
 happiness to render him cheerful, for it was his 
 home-coming, and she had been selfish enough to 
 forget it. " It's hard to realize that this is not a 
 dream," he said, " and that you are really once
 
 LIKE A SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT 237 
 
 more here beside me." There was great tender- 
 ness in his voice. 
 
 " And you are glad, perhaps," she said, " that it 
 is so ? " She rose, for a gentleman was approach- 
 ing them. 
 
 " I am going to ask for an introduction to the 
 Signer Lonspetti," the stranger said, " if I may be 
 granted that honour ? " 
 
 Lonspetti rose at the mention of his name. 
 
 " This is the gentleman who has foretold little 
 Consuelo's future," Edythe said, by way of intro- 
 duction. " Professor Tellano, the Signor Lon- 
 spetti." 
 
 " A name well known to me," said Lonspetti, 
 as they shook hands. "I believe we were in 
 London about the same time." 
 
 The professor laughed. " I came near meeting 
 you several times," he said. 
 
 " I want you to read the Signer's hand, profes- 
 sor," Edythe interrupted ; "that is, if we can find a 
 quiet corner." 
 
 " Nothing would give me so much pleasure," 
 said the professor. " I was going to ask for that 
 honour." 
 
 But the Signor only laughed. " I must beg off," 
 he said. " You would find nothing there but
 
 238 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 unfulfilled ambition and unrealized hopes." The 
 Signer's voice was touched with sadness. There 
 was a sound of laughter from another part of the 
 room. A young man was giving a recitation 
 about a tiger named Horace, who always disposed 
 of visiting relatives and friends when their visits 
 became chronic complaints, but who drew a line at 
 the mother-in-law because she had so seriously dis- 
 agreed with him in life that he feared her in death, 
 and they joined in the applause that followed, 
 although they had missed the story. 
 
 A moment later the three had passed into 
 Madame's boudoir. "This is on the condition 
 that you tell Mrs. Merrall's fortune first," added 
 the Signor, as he turned up the light. Outside 
 supper was being announced. Some one came 
 in for any chairs that the boudoir afforded. It 
 was Mr. Cavendish. He hesitated near the por- 
 tieres when he saw that the professor was study- 
 ing Edythe's hand. He believed in palmistry, in 
 truth he quoted it almost as a religion. The 
 Signor was sitting with his back toward him, and 
 did not notice him. 
 
 " And what after the year ? " he heard Edythe 
 say. " You say there are two deaths that will 
 trouble me, though there is some brightness
 
 LIKE A SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT 239 
 
 and after that, what ? " There was a long silence. 
 Mr. Cavendish stepped back into the room. 
 
 " There will be a great change," he heard the 
 professor make reply. " It will be unexpected. 
 I cannot tell you what it will be. An important 
 line crosses the life line." He was about to say, 
 " and divides it." 
 
 " And you tell me that you have never seen 
 it except in my hand," Edythe said, as he took 
 Lonspetti's. 
 
 " I have seen it, though not so clearly marked," 
 he replied ; "yet here it is again," he exclaimed, 
 as he studied the Signer's hand. " It crosses his 
 life about forty-two. It is a peculiar coincidence." 
 
 Mr. Cavendish opened the door to go out, and 
 sounds of some stray music from the drawing- 
 room reached them. Lonspetti drew his hand 
 away. " We had better go back," he said. 
 
 " But you did not let me study further," inter- 
 rupted the professor. 
 
 " Yes, let him see what follows it," Edythe said, 
 as he rose to go. 
 
 But Lonspetti was firm. " If the line means 
 anything in my hand," he said, and despite the 
 firmness, there was gentleness in his voice, " the 
 professor would indeed be a prophet if he could
 
 240 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 tell what follows it. No man has done that yet ; 
 am I not right, Tellano ? " 
 
 But the professor was silent. 
 
 " Do you mean," said Edythe, " that that line 
 can possibly mean " but she did not finish the 
 sentence, she only laughed at her fear. " How 
 foolish I was," she said. " I quite forgot myself." 
 
 " It is only a trick of nature, after all," mur- 
 mured Lonspetti, as he opened the door for her, 
 and he wondered, as he thought of it afterward, 
 if his surmise was correct.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 ROSEMARY 
 "Rosemary that's for remembrance." 
 
 AFTER all, why not cherish and encourage the 
 caresses of the world while they are given, since 
 life is short, and we pass this way but once ? 
 
 The return of Edythe Barattoni to the stage 
 after ten years had proved that the public's regret 
 at her retirement had been sincere. They had 
 made her return a veritable triumph. 
 
 The play was " Romeo and Juliet." After all, we 
 are not all pessimistic. 
 
 " It is a young world," says Marie, " when you 
 appeal to the heart and not to the purse strings." 
 
 The Empire Theatre was crowded to the very 
 roof. The boxes and the orchestra looked more 
 like a night at the Metropolitan than a theatre in 
 which a dramatic performance was being given. 
 Society had turned out in full force to do her 
 honour. There were many in the house that night 
 who remembered her first appearance on the 
 
 241
 
 242 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 stage, her later success in the r61e she was essay- 
 ing to-night, when the critics wrote of her that she 
 might have been the woman who inspired this 
 tragedy had she lived in Shakespeare's day. 
 They called her acting delightful ; the woman who 
 returned to them that night, after ten years, was 
 superb. Her marital troubles with which the 
 world was familiar had left no trace upon the 
 youth or beauty of the woman, though her experi- 
 ence with the world had developed her power as 
 an actress. 
 
 When she came on the stage that night some 
 one from an upper box threw on the stage a 
 bunch of rosemary. Whether or not the audience 
 noticed the sentiment of the flower, we do not 
 know. We are only aware of another burst of 
 enthusiasm. It was several minutes before the 
 play could proceed. It was a happy thought of 
 Madame Marie to intermingle the operatic music 
 with the play. In the pauses of the play the 
 music of the opera could be heard, beautiful, 
 dreamy, and tenderly reminiscent. The Juliet of 
 Edythe Barattoni was no overstudied or over- 
 acted portrayal. It was thoroughly melodious and 
 exquisitely alive with youth. Her intonation was 
 full of charm, music, and poetry. Of her support-
 
 ROSEMARY 243 
 
 ing company there was nothing but praise to be 
 said. The Romeo was a young Italian actor, Don 
 Raffaelli, who was unknown to the audience, but 
 who was warmly taken into their affection before 
 the curtain fell. The sincerity of his acting supple 
 mented by his youth and bearing made his success 
 after the balcony scene almost as distinct and 
 emphatic as that of the actress whom he was sup- 
 porting. Edythe appeared more delighted with 
 the attention he received than with her own per- 
 sonal triumph. She had worked long and untir- 
 ingly to accomplish what the night had fulfilled. 
 There was not a part or scene in the play but 
 that had had her individual attention and thought, 
 and the presentation of the play showed the full 
 value of the setting. Several times in the prog- 
 ress of the play Edythe caught sight of a party in 
 one of the upper boxes. There was Madame in 
 a dinner gown of dull black silk ; the bodice and 
 demi-train of crape was relieved of its sombreness 
 somewhat by a collarette of diamonds and numer- 
 ous decorations. There was no one in the house 
 that night who was so much noticed as the famous 
 tragedienne. That she was aware of the attention 
 she was receiving was apparent from the fact 
 that she sat well in the rear of the box. On her
 
 244 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 arrival she had been greeted with applause, and al- 
 though she had acknowledged the recognition, it 
 was evident that she had no wish to be the centre 
 of attraction. Among those with her was Lonspetti, 
 who shared the rear of the box with her, Dorothy, 
 resplendent in a cherry-colored silk, Emma Marie, 
 dressed in black like her mother, Mr. Landman, 
 Ghleska, and little Consuelo in white lace and a 
 picture hat of feathers. When she was particu- 
 larly interested in the wooing of Romeo, the big 
 hat was pulled down over the eyes as if to shade 
 them, and pushed back on the curls when the 
 moment was exciting as in the potion scene where 
 Juliet cries : " Stay, Tybalt, stay ! Romeo, I come. 
 This do I drink to thee." 
 
 Whenever Edythe's eyes wandered to the box 
 she saw Consuelo watching her, ever interested. 
 After one of the first acts she made Mr. Ghleska 
 take her to Edythe, despite Madame's many 
 protestations, and her beauty and wit made such 
 a sensation behind the scenes that the play was 
 delayed several minutes in consequence. She 
 could find no empty chair in Edythe's chaotic 
 dressing-room, so Raffaelli found a place for her 
 on a huge basket of beauty roses which had been 
 set on a shoe box, and there she held regal sway.
 
 ROSEMARY 245 
 
 She was anxious to be introduced to the entire 
 company, and the latter seemed equally pleased to 
 meet her. Even the manager forgot that the play 
 was still under way and a large representative 
 audience was waiting, and went in to shake hands 
 with her. 
 
 " She's Madame in miniature," he said when he 
 saw her. "What a Juliet she will make one of 
 these future days ! " 
 
 " But grandmere says she will never consent to 
 it," adds Consuelo, smiling, as she glanced up at 
 him from the cover of her wide-brimmed hat. 
 
 " But the world would lose such a beautiful 
 Juliet," he said. 
 
 " But I have set my heart on being a princess," 
 said the child, " though sometimes I think I may 
 marry a clergyman." 
 
 The manager was moved to laughter at this 
 remark, but her seriousness prevented it, so he 
 shook hands with her again and was gone. 
 
 Through the now opened door came the music 
 of the overture for the last act. Call-boys were 
 seen hurrying on their way to the different 
 dressing-rooms. Raffaelli, recalling that he was to 
 open the act, said good-by and hastened stageward. 
 Ghleska lifted Consuelo from her throne and was
 
 246 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 about to take her out to the wings when Edythe, 
 who was glancing over a note which had just 
 been sent into her, noticed that she was going, 
 and went forward and took the child in her 
 arms. 
 
 "The last act shall be better for your coming, 
 sweetheart," she said, as she kissed her, then when 
 she had gone she took up the note again and reread 
 it. The messenger who had brought the note was 
 waiting for an answer. Edythe hesitated. A call- 
 boy broke the silence laden down with flowers. 
 The maid relieved him, and he was off again. 
 There was a sound of applause from the front of 
 the house. The first scene of the last act was 
 over. The actors passed on their way to their 
 dressing-rooms. Edythe handed the messenger 
 a card with something written upon it, then she 
 closed the door to make ready for her next 
 appearance. 
 
 It was the last scene of the play. There was 
 a silence almost deathlike over the house. The 
 music could be heard like sobbing in the pauses. 
 Consuelo, who had returned to the box, went to 
 Madame's arms for comfort. Perhaps it was her 
 grief that was felt. 
 
 But now the play was over. The curtain calls
 
 ROSEMARY 247 
 
 had been acknowledged, and the audience was 
 slowly filing out. Outside the carriages could be 
 heard forming into line. The theatre's responsi- 
 bility was over. Edythe went to her dress- 
 ing-room to find Lionel and a maid awaiting 
 her. 
 
 She noticed how pale the child was as he stood 
 there. He went forward at seeing her and put 
 his hands in her outstretched ones. 
 
 " I am so glad to see you, Lionel," she said, 
 " though I'm sorry you came here." 
 
 The boy hesitated a moment as if to still a 
 tremor in his voice, then he said bravely, " I 
 wouldn't have come could I have helped it, as you 
 will believe," he said. Their eyes met, and though 
 Edythe's were filled with tears she noticed that his 
 were strangely calm. How much like his father 
 he was, she thought. She took him into her 
 dressing-room, and the maid, seeing them, went 
 out and closed the door. She cleared a place 
 for the boy on the divan beside her, but he 
 remained standing. "You know, of course, why 
 I have come ? " he said slowly. His heart, which 
 until then had been brave and strong, rose in his 
 throat and he could say no more. Outside the 
 steady tread of the passers could be heard, and it
 
 248 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 seemed to relieve the situation. Lionel noticed 
 that his mother's lips were quivering. 
 
 " I suppose your father sent you," she 
 replied. 
 
 "He knows nothing of my coming," said 
 Lionel. " Maurice asked me to find you and 
 bring you to him." Their eyes met in the silence 
 that followed, then he added, "And Maurice is 
 dying." 
 
 There was a knock at the door, but Edythe 
 made no answer. She thought she heard Con- 
 suelo asking for her. She had promised to take 
 her home, and for the first time she must neglect 
 her. There came another knock at the door, and 
 a call-boy announced that her carriage was wait- 
 ing. She could hear the company passing by her 
 room on their way to the street. Lionel stood 
 waiting for her answer. 
 
 "I do not see how I can go, Lionel," Edythe 
 said slowly. " We cannot always do in this world 
 as we would." A shade of sadness and loneliness 
 came over her face, and the tears contrasted 
 strangely with her surroundings. 
 
 " If it were only my children that I should see, 
 I would go willingly ; but, Lionel, it is impossible 
 when one has cut adrift."
 
 ROSEMARY 249 
 
 The boy moved to go. "Then I am to tell 
 Maurice that you cannot come to him," he said. 
 " Is there any message I can take him in your 
 stead ? " 
 
 It seemed to Edythe that that moment was the 
 worst one she had ever known. Life, soul, and 
 strength seemed to be deserting her. 
 
 "How long does the physician think he can 
 live?" 
 
 " He says he cannot live the week out. He may 
 be dead now," said Lionel. " Perhaps it would be 
 better if he were, since his last wish cannot be 
 granted." 
 
 " My boy, go back to him. Take him these roses, 
 and tell him that his mother will come. It will 
 not be to-night, lest he keep awake waiting; but 
 say to him that I will come, and that my heart 
 is with him. He was always a courageous and 
 patient little man, and no one knows how much 
 suffering the loss of my children has caused me ; 
 but it is useless to regret it now." Her lips 
 trembled, as if the confession had been hard to 
 make. 
 
 " Then you will surely go to him, mother ? " 
 
 "Yes, Lionel. Before the end comes, come 
 for me and I will go to him, and in the
 
 250 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 meantime may God give me strength to bear 
 it." 
 
 And while the new day brought remorse and sor- 
 row with it to a woman's heart, it brought with it 
 peace to a child's, who fell asleep smiling because 
 he was comforted.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 CROSSING THE BAR 
 
 " FATHER." 
 
 "Yes, Maurice." 
 
 " Is that her ? " 
 
 " Not yet, my boy." 
 
 " She is not coming," said the child. 
 
 Mr. Merrall went toward him. " Keep up 
 faith, little man; she has hardly had time to 
 reach here." 
 
 The little white face glanced toward the small 
 Dresden clock on the mantelpiece, whose jewelled 
 pendulum was ticking away the child's last mo- 
 ments on the earth. 
 
 " I cannot see it, father the time, what is it ? " 
 
 "Barely twelve." 
 
 " Lionel went when, father ? " 
 
 "At eleven o'clock. He had a long way to 
 go, little boy, a long way." 
 
 "And I've a long way to go, father; but listen, 
 there is the carriage now." 
 
 Mr. Merrall rose from the child's side and 
 251
 
 2$2 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 went toward the window. His carriage was 
 stopping at the door. Another moment Lionel 
 and his mother stepped out of it. 
 
 "Thank God," were Mr. Men-all's words as he 
 saw his wife. She was dressed in black to-night, 
 and Mr. Merrall thought she looked younger 
 than the day they were married. She came up 
 the wide staircase and greeted her husband 
 quietly as she paused on the landing, then with 
 a smile half herself, half supernatural, she crossed 
 over the threshold and greeted her boy. 
 
 " Mother." 
 
 "My little son." 
 
 At the meeting the nurses had departed, Mr. 
 Merrall had passed into the library, and no one 
 witnessed the embrace. When Mr. Merrall 
 returned Edythe was on the side of the bed, 
 there were two loving little arms around her 
 neck, and as she glanced up at his coming, he 
 noticed that there were tears gathering in her 
 eyes. 
 
 "I'm holding her for you, father; don't let her 
 go again," whispered the boy. " I am so tired 
 waiting, so tired." 
 
 The child rested back again on the large pil- 
 lows, and Edythe buried her face beside him.
 
 CROSSING THE BAR 253 
 
 "We all get tired, Maurice," she said. "It is 
 a tired world at its best." 
 
 " Are you ever tired, mother ? " came the 
 question. 
 
 "Yes, Maurice, very." 
 
 " Would you be willing to go with me to-night, 
 mother ? " 
 
 "God grant I could, child. The journey from 
 the world is the only comfort we have for the 
 suffering borne by us here. It is the crown of 
 peace, the reward for the service." 
 
 "Who will come for me, mother?" 
 
 "God will, child." 
 
 " But I heard grandmother say once that you 
 didn't believe in God ; that you didn't believe that 
 there was any world but this one. You don't 
 believe that, do you, dearest ? " 
 
 Edythe raised her head from the pillow and 
 looked the boy full in the eyes. 
 
 "I believe in God if I never did before," she 
 said. " Yes, Maurice, despite all my foolish, idle 
 words, His great ruling power over the universe, 
 His great light and love to the children of men, 
 cannot be preached down nor wholly unbelieved 
 by any one." 
 
 " You want to go to Him, don't you, dearest ? "
 
 254 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " I want to rest, Maurice, to rest in some land 
 where there is no more trouble." 
 
 " Oh, dearest, I love you so, and I am so sorry 
 for you. I know you didn't go away because you 
 didn't love us, only because you were tired and 
 wanted to rest ; but I am growing tired now my- 
 self, mother." 
 
 " You have always been a tired little boy, Mau- 
 rice," said Edythe, soothing his feverish brow. 
 "You always grew tired quicker than Lionel or 
 Douglas, because you always played harder." 
 
 Maurice smiled. " Mother," he said, " I was 
 thinking to-day, will there be many little children 
 in heaven for me to play with ?" The boy's eyes 
 grew restless. 
 
 " Many, many, little son, boys just your age." 
 
 " Boys whose mothers loved them as mine 
 did ? " he said. 
 
 "Yes, boys and girls whose going has broken 
 many hearts and made homes desolate." 
 
 " Would you mind singing a verse to me, dear- 
 est, from 'Lead, Kindly Light'?" and in the first 
 early hour of the new morning and the closing 
 hour of a little child's life came the sweet refrain, 
 but only softly, for it was breaking the mother's 
 heart,
 
 CROSSING THE BAR 255 
 
 " Lead, kindly light. 
 
 The night is dark, and I am far from home, 
 Lead thou me on." 
 
 " Mother," said the child, as her voice trembled 
 in the singing, "don't cry, for I love you, and 
 after I go to heaven, don't forget that I am wait- 
 ing for you, and that I shall never be contented 
 there till I have you with me." 
 
 " Perhaps, Maurice, I shall never be good 
 enough to go to you." 
 
 With an almost supernatural intuition that oft- 
 times dying children have, he said : " But God will 
 wash away the sins of the world, mother, and I 
 hear some one saying to me that I will not have 
 to wait long for you. It seems, mother, as if the 
 room was full of people who have come for me, 
 and one of them is my little sister." 
 
 If there is unbelief in the heart and a feeling 
 that religion is only a delusion after all, if truth 
 and hope are becoming moss-grown by the teach- 
 ings of the present day doubters, if the faith of 
 our fathers is being forgotten in the presence of 
 death and in the overpowering, comforting love 
 of the Father which attends the journeyers from 
 earth, the worst sceptic is ashamed of his self- 
 wrought weakness; and the thought came to
 
 256 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Edythe that night as she knelt by the child's bed- 
 side that there must be a home prepared somewhere 
 where, after the fever and the unrest of the world, 
 after the smart and sting of sorrow's rod, souls 
 pass and are comforted. She had faith that her 
 boy was passing to some land where she would 
 eventually find her two children waiting. The 
 boy had been silent several moments when she 
 felt the little arms tighten about her neck, and 
 putting her face down close to his, she heard him 
 say, " Sing to me again, mother, ' There is a 
 blessed home,' " but though her heart would, her 
 voice was too choked to speak. She could only 
 bury her face in the pillow beside his white one, 
 and he was too far gone to see how his mother 
 was troubled. 
 
 Mr. Merrall came forward and knelt by Edythe 
 at the child's bedside. The clock struck the half 
 hour of one. Maurice noticed it slightly, for the 
 presence and stillness of death was over the room. 
 He opened his eyes, and seeing his parents with 
 him made another effort to speak to them. His 
 father bent over and kissed him long and tenderly. 
 " Love her, father," the child said faintly, and as 
 he sank lower in the pillow, the Rev. Dr. Mcll- 
 vaine stepped forward and said : " To Thee, O
 
 CROSSING THE BAR 257 
 
 God, most merciful and kind Father, take unto 
 Thy care and into Thy loving arms the soul of 
 this, Thy beloved child, who has been a faithful 
 servant of the cross during his few years on the 
 earth. Grant him peace and joy and the strength 
 of Thy almighty protection to-night and forever." 
 Mr. Men-all's eyes rilled with tears, but Edythe 
 remained calm through it all. For a moment 
 after the clergyman had ceased speaking a mist 
 came about the child's form, so deep that his face 
 was hardly perceptible. Edythe, who was hold- 
 ing the child's hand, put forth her other hand to 
 touch his face again, and as she did so the mist 
 rose, and as it cleared they both noticed the 
 changed expression on the boy's face ; for death 
 had been there, and his little soul had gone with 
 the tide, out beyond any recalling to the Father.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 THE HARBOUR ENTRANCE 
 
 WITH the exception of a few pews left for the 
 family, Calvary Church was crowded to the doors, 
 and it was yet half an hour before the service. 
 
 In the crowd that had gathered it was impossible 
 to distinguish the friend from the stranger. There 
 were those who talked of the dead boy in whis- 
 pers, as among those who had known him, and 
 there were others who were there merely out of 
 curiosity because of the public career of the child's 
 mother. Not a few noticed on their way down 
 Fourth Avenue that morning a theatrical billboard 
 which had been erected on the site of a new build- 
 ing near Twenty-third Street, almost within sight 
 of the church, which bore the announcement, be- 
 neath a life-size poster of the actress, of the return 
 to the stage of Edythe Barattoni. Almost as the 
 carriages were turning into the avenue, a man was 
 seen affixing a strip across the face of the board 
 with the single word " Cancelled " upon it. 
 
 258
 
 THE HARBOUR ENTRANCE 259 
 
 The day was glorious. Not a cloud passed over 
 the sky. Hope, joy, and love seemed to reign like 
 three guardian angels over the world. 
 
 There was the usual crowd of idlers about the 
 church door. Some had not taken the trouble to 
 ascertain whose funeral it was, while others were 
 discussing the information they had gained from 
 the daily newspapers. 
 
 But silence followed, for the carriages were seen 
 approaching the church. The crowd stood aside 
 respectfully, almost reverently. The doors of the 
 church were opened wide, and from it came the 
 sound of the great organ, and the voices of 
 the choir boys as they approached the doors 
 singing : 
 
 " Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom, 
 
 Lead thou me on. 
 
 The night is dark, and I am far from home, 
 Lead thou me on." 
 
 It was somewhat of a departure from the usual 
 service, and the innovation was touching. Clearly 
 and heavenly the voices rang out above the notes 
 of the organ : 
 
 " And with the dawn, those angel faces smile, 
 That I have loved long since and lost awhile."
 
 260 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 But the singing ceased. The carriages had 
 stopped at the church. The pallbearers, all young 
 boys, alighted from the carriages first, and had 
 hardly taken their places on the sidewalk when the 
 little white hearse drew up to the church door. In 
 the carriage behind it were Mr. Merrall, his mother, 
 and his two remaining children. 
 
 There was some comment made among the 
 crowd gathered at the door at the absence of the 
 child's mother. In their attention to the mourners 
 they had not noticed a tall young woman, dressed 
 in simple black, holding a little girl by the hand, 
 who had passed them without attracting their 
 attention some moments before. Even those in 
 the church had not noticed her as she passed 
 quietly in and took a seat that was offered her half 
 way up the middle aisle. Had they realized who 
 it was, perhaps some sympathy would have gone 
 out to her, for she was sobbing bitterly as Dr. 
 Mcllvaine, who had met the funeral procession at 
 the door, came slowly up the aisle reading the 
 burial service. " I am the resurrection and the 
 life, saith the Lord. He that believeth in me, 
 though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whoso- 
 ever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." 
 
 Though the voice of the rector was distinct, at
 
 THE HARBOUR ENTRANCE 261 
 
 times it was lost in the sobbing of the congregation. 
 The choir boys, who had preceded Dr. Mcllvaine, 
 took their places in the choir, and as the child's 
 body passed the mother kneeling, the rector's voice 
 broke the silence again. "We brought nothing 
 into this world, and it is certain that we can carry 
 nothing out." Those who knew Dr. Mcllvaine 
 best detected the quiver in his voice which was 
 usually so full of strength. " The Lord gave," he 
 read from the open book in his hand, "and the 
 Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the 
 Lord." 
 
 As Dr. Mcllvaine entered the chancel, the pall- 
 bearers put down their burden before the altar, and 
 it was almost lost to view in the banks of white 
 flowers, roses, lilies of the valley, and the hyacinth. 
 The rector turned to the appointed lesson, and the 
 choir began singing : 
 
 " Lord, let me know my end and the number of 
 my days, that I may be certified how long I have 
 to live." 
 
 There was a momentary pause in the service, 
 and a boy soloist, hardly larger than the dead 
 child, stepped forward, and with his little flushed 
 face raised slightly, his voice rang out, like a bird 
 in paradise :
 
 262 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " Behold, Thou hast made my days as it were a 
 span long, and mine age is even as nothing in re- 
 spect of Thee, and verily every man liveth is alto- 
 gether vanity." 
 
 Then the choir continued : 
 
 " For man walketh in a vain shadow ... he 
 heapeth up riches and cannot tell who shall gather 
 them." 
 
 Through the service Edythe had not risen from 
 her knees. She could feel about her the warm, 
 tender little arms of the child Consuelo, who was 
 nestling beside her. She put an arm about Con- 
 suelo and drew her closer. 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine had taken his place at the desk 
 and was reading the appointed lesson for the day. 
 
 " For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall 
 all be made alive. But every man in his own 
 order. Christ the first fruits : afterward they that 
 are Christ's at His coming. . . . All flesh is not 
 the same flesh. . . . There are also celestial bod- 
 ies and bodies terrestrial, but the glory of the celes- 
 tial is one and the glory of the terrestrial is another. 
 There is one glory of the sun and another glory of 
 the moon and another glory of the stars, for one 
 star diff ereth from another star in glory. So, also, 
 is the resurrection of the dead."
 
 THE HARBOUR ENTRANCE 263 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine had read in his time many 
 services for the dead, for the old and the young. 
 He had preceded many a child's body up the aisle 
 of his church, comforting the afflicted with the 
 immortal words of Christ, " I am the resurrection 
 and the life." His voice had been silenced often 
 by the sorrow of the stricken parents ; but none of 
 them had come so near to his own heart as the father 
 of the child who had just been gathered to Christ's 
 kingdom, and whose body lay in the small white 
 coffin before him. It looked to him, from where 
 he stood, more like a jewel box hidden away 
 among the flowers. At times in the course of the 
 lesson he was interrupted by sobbing in the 
 church. It was not unlike a mother's sorrow, he 
 thought, but he knew that no grief was so great 
 as the young man's who sat in the front pew 
 between two small, white-faced children, who 
 looked as if death had dealt heavily with them. 
 Dr. Mcllvaine noticed that Mr. Merrall's mother 
 quieted them several times during the service. 
 Through it all Mr. Merrall had kept strangely 
 calm, but when it came to the last part of the 
 lesson, he saw that it was with great difficulty that 
 he kept back the tears. He leaned forward and 
 rested one hand heavily on the front of the pew,
 
 264 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 and he saw that his eyes were fixed on the casket 
 before him. Perhaps that message of faith 
 brought him some relief, some comfort perhaps, 
 for after a moment he leaned back again in the 
 pew. 
 
 " We shall not all sleep," Dr. Mcllvaine read, 
 " but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the 
 twinkling of an eye at the last trump. . . . And 
 this mortal shall put on immortality. . . . Then 
 shall be brought to pass the saying, O death, 
 where is thy sting, O grave, where is thy victory?" 
 
 When Dr. Mcllvaine had finished with the 
 lesson, there was a hush throughout the church, 
 but only for a moment. The boy soloist stepped 
 out again from the choir seats, and the organ com- 
 menced "Abide with me." Clearly and heavenly 
 the boy's voice rang out : 
 
 " Where is death's sting, where, grave, thy victory ? 
 I triumph still if Thou abide with me. 
 Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes, 
 Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies. 
 Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee 
 In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me." 
 
 When the final words of the hymn had died 
 away, Dr. Mcllvaine came down the chancel steps 
 and continued with the service.
 
 THE HARBOUR ENTRANCE 265 
 
 " Man that is born of a woman hath but a short 
 time to live. He cometh up and is cut down like a 
 flower. He fleeth as it were a shadow, and never 
 continueth in one stay. In the midst of life we 
 are in death," he read from the open book in his 
 hand. 
 
 Mr. Merrall was calmer now. Perhaps he was 
 thinking of the boy's mother, whose place was 
 with her children. It would have been a great 
 comfort to him had he known that she was pres- 
 ent, if not with them, and that her grief was even 
 greater than his own. He had written to her only 
 that morning begging her to be seen at the service 
 with her children. He realized, and deeply too, 
 that his letters had long ceased to have any weight 
 with her, yet he remembered with what tenderness 
 she held Maurice in her arms when he was dying, 
 and her words of consolation to him that there 
 were many, many little boys in heaven just his 
 age, nor could he forget her silent but unmistak- 
 able grief when she saw that he was dead, or the 
 kiss when she left him. 
 
 But the service was over. The pallbearers took 
 up the coffin again and carried it slowly down the 
 aisle. The heart of roses from the boy's mother 
 rested on the coffin lid above the silent heart
 
 where Mr. Merrall had himself placed it. Edythe 
 did not notice it though as it passed by, for she 
 was praying, nor did she feel the hand of her 
 youngest boy as he stopped for a moment at the 
 pew at seeing her, and not being noticed walked 
 bravely on with his brother. 
 
 She rose now to pass out. Some moments had 
 passed, and a few of the first carriages had already 
 started on their journey to Greenwood. As she 
 reached the door, she paused as if stricken on the 
 steps. The hearse was still within sight of the 
 church. Consuelo put her hand tenderly in hers, 
 and there was comfort in the touch, and Maurice's 
 words came to her, as he passed from her sight, 
 " But God will wash away the sins of the world."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 WHEN ONLY THE ANGELS KNOW 
 
 LONSPETTI paused on the threshold of the 
 studio. The door was ajar, and from where he 
 stood he could see the only occupants of the 
 studio : Edythe, who was at work on a picture, 
 and the child Consuelo, who was sitting near 
 her. Presently the child's voice broke the silence. 
 " You haven't told me, dearest, whether you ever 
 expect Mr. Courtney home again." 
 
 " Because only the angels know," came the 
 reply. 
 
 " Grandmere always says that when she wants 
 to evade an answer," sighed the child. " I asked 
 her last night if I was ever to see my dear father 
 again, and she gave me that same reply, ' Only 
 the angels know.' " Edythe looked up from her 
 work. " You're a strange little problem, Con- 
 suelo dear," she said. "You have a wonderful 
 brain for such a small girl." 
 
 267
 
 268 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Consuelo smiled, and she was still showing all 
 her pretty dimples when Lonspetti greeted them. 
 
 " What do the angels know, dear ? " the Signer 
 laughed, as he took her up in his strong arms 
 and kissed her. 
 
 "They must know everything," she said, try- 
 ing her best to get away. 
 
 The Signor laughed again, then he turned to 
 the picture Edythe was at work on. 
 
 " I thought you were painting a portrait of 
 Consuelo," he said, as he looked at it, "but it 
 seems not." 
 
 " No, not her portrait exactly, though she is 
 posing for the child in the picture." She moved 
 her chair a little so that Lonspetti could see it 
 better. The child came and nestled her small 
 head against Edythe. 
 
 " I should imagine that it would be an odd 
 picture when it is finished," the Signor said slowly. 
 " I can't quite understand the idea it embodies." 
 
 "Then you don't know who the child is?" 
 she questioned. 
 
 Lonspetti shook his head. 
 
 " It is the master of mankind," Edythe said 
 after a moment. 
 
 " You mean the child is Death ? " said Lon-
 
 WHEN ONLY THE ANGELS KNOW 269 
 
 spetti. He stepped back that he might see the 
 picture to a better advantage. It was a large 
 canvas and pictured the scene of an attic, low 
 storied and comfortless. As if by the light that 
 came in through the broken pane of the garret 
 window, an old woman's face and form could 
 be distinguished on the low pallet beside it. 
 When one studied it better, it was seen that the 
 woman was dying; but there were other figures 
 to be unveiled in the picture. Edythe did not 
 have to tell Lonspetti who the woman was that 
 was standing on the threshold of the attic, but 
 whose eyes still wandered toward the dying 
 woman as if she was reluctant to leave her, for 
 the figure was Poverty. There was a pathetic 
 weariness in her face as if Wealth and Death 
 together had robbed her of many of her subjects. 
 Wealth and Death were strangely different cav- 
 aliers. Wealth was fickle. There was hope in 
 her face when only Fortune charmed her sub- 
 jects away from her with Death it was differ- 
 ent. Death is constant. 
 
 "You like my picture, do you not, Signer?" 
 Edythe asked, breaking the silence which was 
 becoming impressive; but Lonspetti did not 
 answer, and she repeated the question.
 
 2/0 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 "Yes, in a way," he replied, "and again, no. 
 I can't say that I like the expression of Poverty's 
 face. It is inclined to be strong, and yet there 
 is some craftiness about the mouth ; but perhaps 
 you didn't intend that to be so." 
 
 " Poverty is crafty," said Edythe. " The valley 
 of tragedy is but a prison of despair. You 
 know the old proverb, do you not, that those 
 who partake of poverty in this world and taste 
 of her craftiness forego purgatory hereafter, 
 since they have atoned for their sins on earth ? " 
 
 " But the poor are ofttimes happier than the 
 rich," sighed the Signer, as he turned to the pic- 
 ture again. "To my mind," he said, "the figure 
 advancing toward the woman is the best. The 
 flowers she brings I fancy signify that she is 
 Happiness ? " 
 
 " No, Youth," replied Edythe. " Death always 
 brings Youth when he comes, unless he finds it 
 already before him. Although Death is always 
 pictured to us as an aged reaper, I have always 
 thought of him as a child, since Age has no juris- 
 diction over Death; then, too, the man with the 
 scythe is Father Time, a creature only of the 
 earth." 
 
 "Then the child at the dying woman's side
 
 WHEN ONLY THE ANGELS KNOW 2/1 
 
 is your idea of death ? " queried Lonspetti. " It 
 seems to me that as far as you have completed 
 it, the figure looks more like the pictures we 
 know of the Christ Child." 
 
 " Death may be Christ, for all we mortals 
 know," Edythe said; "but then I am only 
 painting the picture as the inspiration and thought 
 of the moment moves me. If you notice," she 
 said, "where the child's hand rests on the 
 woman's wrinkled one a change has already 
 come over that side of her face." Lonspetti 
 bent closer. " It is hardly perceptible as yet," 
 Edythe continued; "but when her face is fin- 
 ished, the change will be more noticeable. The 
 touch of Death is restoring youth to her as she 
 passes out, and as Madame said when she saw 
 the picture yesterday, 'Youth is Death's crown 
 for a long service.' " 
 
 " A well-earned one," sighed the Signer. 
 
 He turned, for the door had opened and 
 Madame stood before them. Consuelo was in 
 her arms before any one heard her. 
 
 " I've just received great news from Clare," she 
 said, as she held up a letter. 
 
 "I can guess what it is," Consuelo cried joy- 
 ously, " can't I, grandmere ? "
 
 2/2 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " Imagination often forces us to a wrong con- 
 clusion," answered Madame ; " therefore I beg of 
 thee, Consuelo, to be less hasty in thy answer." 
 Consuelo smiled and remained silent. 
 
 " I fancy we all can guess the news you bring 
 us," Edythe said, rising. " I suppose it is her en- 
 gagement to Mr. Baring." There was sadness 
 in her voice as she spoke, and Lonspetti noticed it. 
 
 " You don't know what a fine fellow Baring is," 
 he interrupted, as he rose to give Madame his 
 chair. " I think she should be considered a very 
 lucky girl." 
 
 "From the man's point of view, of course," 
 Edythe replied. " From the woman's, the man 
 is the one to be congratulated. As for Clare, I 
 am sorry." 
 
 "Never, if you should see Baring," the Signer 
 said, with more than usual animation. " He's a 
 sterling fellow and has a great career before him." 
 
 "And lots of money," added Madame, "which 
 is the greatest thing we can say in his favour." 
 
 Edythe laughed lightly. " I should call it the 
 least important, especially if he's ambitious. Am- 
 bition and wealth ought to be wonderful friends, 
 but they are not. To my mind, genius is de- 
 veloped only through necessity, rarely through
 
 WHEN ONLY THE ANGELS KNOW 273 
 
 riches. As for Clare, she is young and talented. 
 By marrying she is making the same mistake I 
 did, and just as she is reaching the goal she has 
 been striving for." 
 
 " But I doubt if she gives up her music," 
 Madame reassured ; for she saw how the news of 
 Clare's engagement was troubling her. 
 
 "She ought not to do so, but she will," Edythe 
 said. "If Mr. Baring is the wealthy and impor- 
 tant man he is reputed to be, he won't want his 
 wife on the operatic stage. Clare is young, and 
 the future looks bright to her, no matter how she 
 looks at it." 
 
 " She has a very hopeful disposition," the Sig- 
 nor said, " naturally she thinks little of the clouds 
 that may or may not cross her life. For a girl of 
 her age she has been singularly fortunate, and I 
 don't think she has ever worked very hard for it 
 either." 
 
 "For the simple reason," Madame interrupted, 
 " that her sisters have paid for her musical educa- 
 tion and paved her way, as it were, to the goal of 
 her ambition. While, as Edythe most rightly said, 
 wealth may be a hindrance to ambition, a little 
 ready money now and then is no drawback." 
 
 " If she had only made something of it,"
 
 2/4 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Edythe sighed. " How often Clare has told me 
 that she would never marry until she had made a 
 name for herself in the operatic world." 
 
 " Then you would have her remain slave-bound 
 to her profession and give up love because of it 
 love which is more to her than her career can 
 ever be, or has ever been. Ah, no, you wouldn't." 
 Lonspetti's voice grew eloquent in its pleading. 
 Tears sprang to his eyes, and he did not try to 
 check them. 
 
 " After all," he said, " love is the mutual attrac- 
 tion of souls which have found each other."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 THE HEART OF CONSUELO 
 
 " WHY so lost in the vale of solitude, Signer ? " 
 It was Madame who had put the question, but 
 there were several who looked up for his answer. 
 Edythe, Raff aelli, Dorothy, and the petite Con- 
 suelo. It is doubtful if Lonspetti realized that 
 Madame was addressing him, for he continued 
 with his revery. 
 
 They were all seated at a corner table in the 
 little French restaurant, and now two courses had 
 been served and removed without arousing the 
 Signer's attention. Madame put the question a 
 second time, and this time aroused Lonspetti. 
 When he looked up he found them all smiling 
 but Edythe and Consuelo. 
 
 " I must have been dreaming," he said slowly. 
 " I can't tell what made me so forget myself." 
 
 " There is no apology needed," laughed Madame. 
 " We were only tormenting you. You probably 
 275
 
 2/6 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 think as I do that it is the privilege of the poor to 
 dream, the rich to sleep." Lonspetti smiled. 
 
 " I used to be quite a dreamer in my youth," 
 continued Madame ; " but necessity prodded me 
 with her steel one well-remembered day, and I've 
 never had a chance to finish my dream." 
 
 " It's the only consolation I have," the Signor 
 said quietly, " the only one. In them I can at 
 least forget some of the tragedies of my exist- 
 ence." 
 
 " But they bespeak not of progress or in fact 
 any enlightenment," Madame ventured ; " and you 
 are a man with an art like a child to push on. 
 If you insist on spending half of your time seated 
 by the roadside dreaming, the probabilities are 
 that your work is standing still beside you. It is 
 always well to remember that whenever you are 
 resting, your work is doing the same thing." 
 
 "But, Madame," interrupted Raffaelli, "what 
 of the innumerable army of the employed whose 
 sole duty in life is to carry on the business of 
 others, the work of others who may be resting ? " 
 
 "The work belongs to the man who does it," 
 quickly replied Madame. "When your yoke is 
 put about another's neck, it ceases to be your 
 yoke. No matter who gets the credit. As I
 
 THE HEART OF CONSUELO 277 
 
 have always said to Emma, who is ever disputing 
 it, the fame of one's work may live, but the work 
 itself lives and dies with the worker. When the 
 sower ceases reaping " 
 
 " To listen to the birds," said a voice. 
 
 Madame started. It was Emma Marie who 
 had interrupted her. " I thought I'd find you 
 here," she laughed as she took the chair the 
 waiter had brought her and placed it near Con- 
 suelo. " I only got in from Boston half an hour 
 ago." 
 
 " Supperless, I'll wager," ventured RafTaellL 
 
 " Indeed, no ; I never take chances with the 
 future when opportunity offers anything in the 
 present. There's too much at stake." 
 
 " And what luck at Boston ? " queried Dorothy. 
 
 " Don't say luck," said Madame. " I always 
 ask at what turn in the road did misfortune over- 
 take you. So long as she peddles operas, For- 
 tune will keep her face turned away." 
 
 Emma Marie laughed, and merrily. " I know 
 the good madam well," she replied, "but as to 
 Dame Fortune, well, she sometimes condescends 
 to smile." 
 
 " And the luck at Boston ? " again queried 
 Dorothy.
 
 278 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " A game of trumps and mine all the way 
 through. Not a poor card in the pack." Con- 
 suelo leaned against her mother confidingly, and 
 smiled. Edythe watched her and when she 
 turned to Lonspetti she found that he was look- 
 ing at her, too. It was evident that she was 
 proud of her mother. 
 
 "When I reached Boston," Emma continued, 
 "I found the managers there dead against the 
 whole scheme; in fact, I wasn't so sure that I 
 was going to win a hearing at all, let alone an 
 opening ; but when they saw that I was after 
 game, and not easily overthrown, one of them 
 consented to talk the scheme over. The result 
 is an opening, three weeks from to-morrow, for 
 a ten weeks' engagement." 
 
 Consuelo jumped up from her chair and threw 
 both arms around her mother's neck. " I knew 
 you'd get it, I just knew it," she exclaimed. 
 
 " How, my precious ? " laughed Edythe, " you're 
 a witch." 
 
 "Professor Tellano told me so the day my 
 mother left for Boston. I asked him to please 
 consult the stars and tell me." 
 
 Whether it was the innocence or enthusiasm 
 of the child, or the drollery of her remark, no
 
 THE HEART OF CONSUELO 279 
 
 one could decipher. For several moments every 
 one, even Lonspetti, was laughing. Consuelo 
 hid her face on her mother's shoulder and amid 
 her blushes smiled with joy. 
 
 " I shall never forget," said Raffaelli, " the 
 solemnity with which she said, ' I asked the pro- 
 fessor to consult the stars.' " 
 
 Madame regarded the child with interest 
 " She consults the professor on every occasion," 
 she said, " and on every conceivable subject ; in 
 fact, I think she is his most devoted disciple." 
 Consuelo blushed again. 
 
 " I am quite sure it's a case of mutual attrac- 
 tion," Raffaelli said, but with all seriousness, for 
 Consuelo was watching him. 
 
 " Decidedly so," replied Madame. " It's quite 
 amusing to watch the two studying great maps 
 of stars. I hoped that in Emma I had the only 
 star-gazer in the immediate family, but it seems 
 not." 
 
 " My mother doesn't know anything about 
 astrology, grandmere, do you, mother ? " 
 
 Emma tightened her arms about the child and 
 laughed at her. 
 
 " For a girl of seven she's the brightest little 
 body stirring in this big world of ours. I know
 
 280 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 I ought not to tell her so, and I suppose I ought 
 not to say it because I'm her mother; but she's 
 the smartest all-around little girl of her size that 
 ever lived. Let's give her a toast." 
 
 The waiter had filled the glasses, and the two 
 gentlemen at the table, Lonspetti and Raffaelli, 
 were standing. 
 
 " Here's to her serene highness," Lonspetti 
 cried, "the Princess Consuelo. May she always 
 find fortune in the stars." 
 
 " And my toast, second and last," said Madame, 
 rising. "To her health and ambitions, and may 
 she always have a fortune in the bank." 
 
 " I'll have it in the bank all right," chimed 
 Consuelo, when they were again seated, "for I'm 
 going to marry a very, very rich man when I've 
 grown up." 
 
 " I thought it was a clergyman, the last time," 
 said Lonspetti, " and priests as a general rule 
 are not rich." 
 
 It was Madame only who noticed the look of 
 distress cross Edythe's face as the reference to 
 clergymen was made; but it passed away after 
 a moment, even before the child had had time to 
 answer. Consuelo was plainly discomfited by the 
 Signer's question.
 
 THE HEART OF CONSUELO 281 
 
 " Yes, I did think once I might marry a clergy- 
 man," she replied; "but that was before Mr. 
 Courtney went away and left me." 
 
 " And who is Mr. Courtney, may I ask ? " inter- 
 rupted Raffaelli. " Is he the clergyman who has 
 made this very young woman think ill of the 
 profession ? " 
 
 "It seems so, doesn't it ? " Madame answered 
 for her. 
 
 " He was the young man for whom I was 
 overthrown," added the Signor. " Mr. Courtney 
 was my great rival for the heart of Consuelo." 
 
 The child blushed furiously. " But you didn't 
 hate him as the rivals in the books do," she 
 said na'fvely. " They are always, always fighting 
 duels." 
 
 "The Signor and Mr. Courtney were too good 
 friends to let a woman's heart come between 
 them," Edythe said quietly. ("The love of man 
 for man I hold above the love of man for 
 woman. It is more steadfast, more unselfish, 
 more what love should be.'y 
 
 " A woman's heart is worth any sacrifice," 
 Lonspetti said gravely, interrupting her. " The 
 love of a good woman's heart is above price, 
 and worth death to win."
 
 282 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Consuelo grew wistful. Those at the table saw 
 that his eyes rested upon Edythe when he spoke, 
 and perhaps she realized it, for she did not let 
 her eyes meet his. 
 
 " The game of hearts is a pretty enough game 
 to play," said Madame, " when both players play 
 unmasked, though in the majority of cases the 
 woman is the only one blindfolded, and she 
 fears to take the mask off lest she break the 
 spell." 
 
 " I see you don't believe in marriage based 
 upon mutual affection," said Raffaelli. " You con- 
 sider it a rather one-sided victory either for the 
 man or the woman." 
 
 " Exactly," responded Madame, and she spoke 
 with decision. " I think with Balzac that love 
 is a game at which one always cheats. One is 
 playing for a heart, and is playing fair, and the 
 other is watching another stake, money, title, 
 protection, or position. No two players look to 
 the same stake. In love as in everything else 
 one always plays with the mask off, and wins 
 by watching the other's cards." 
 
 Lonspetti put out his hand as if to interrupt 
 her, but he let it fall again without speaking. 
 Perhaps who knows ? Raffaelli understood the
 
 THE HEART OF CONSUELO 283 
 
 tragedy pictured in Lonspetti's face, for he inter- 
 rupted the conversation by rising to give another 
 toast. 
 
 "The good-night benediction," he said slowly, 
 as the others rose with him. " To our sweethearts 
 wives of to-morrow but sweethearts always."
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 LONSPETTI'S HOUR 
 " There is an hour in each man's life appointed." 
 
 IT was noted as a peculiar coincidence that in 
 the same day's papers the following fall with 
 the announcement of Clare Barattoni's marriage 
 to the Hon. Clarence Baring, M.P., of Bar- 
 ing Hall, Surrey, England, was the report of 
 Edythe's divorce from Mr. Merrall. Mrs. 
 Merrall had asked for it, and as far as society 
 knew to the contrary it had been granted with 
 no opposition on the part of the defendant. 
 The case was not made public; and while the 
 charge was said to have been based upon deser- 
 tion, no particulars were given out by the lawyers 
 on either side. The action had been expected for 
 some time, but when it did come it was a dis- 
 appointment. There were some who declared 
 Mr. Merrall would oppose the suit; there were 
 others who prophesied that Mrs. Merrall would 
 ask for her children. There were again those 
 
 284
 
 LONSPETTTS HOUR 285 
 
 more advanced and worldly gossips who expected 
 a sensational and long-fought-out suit ; and when 
 the case did come up, and was apparently set- 
 tled to the satisfaction of the only two persons 
 directly concerned, society met with an unlooked- 
 for disappointment. Whatever differences there 
 were between Mr. and Mrs. Merrall were not 
 given the public; the children remained with 
 their father, in accordance, it was said, with their 
 mother's expressed wish. 
 
 If there was one person to whom the news 
 came with a feeling of gladness, it was the Signor 
 Lonspetti. He was down town in New York, 
 in the newspaper section of the city, when the 
 bulletins announcing Edythe's divorce were put 
 up. When her divorce had been talked of at the 
 time of her separation from Mr. Merrall, there 
 were some who associated her name with that of 
 Mr. Courtney, especially when he resigned his 
 charge at Calvary Church; but now that a year 
 or more had passed and Mr. Courtney remained 
 abroad, the story lost credence and interest. For 
 some time Mr. Courtney was expected to return 
 to his work, and it had been only a short time 
 since his return was given up. When people 
 inquired for him of Dr. Mcllvaine, they were in-
 
 286 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 formed of his decision to make his home abroad, 
 and to devote his time to writing rather than 
 preaching. Lonspetti had forgotten the early 
 association of Edythe's name with Mr. Courtney's 
 until one of the afternoon papers, for want of 
 particulars bearing on the divorce, recalled that 
 bit of gossip in lieu of later news. Lonspetti 
 smiled as he read it. As far as he had ever 
 given it thought there had never been any truth 
 in the assertion. The more he thought of the 
 news he had just heard the greater grew his 
 desire to reach Edythe, and to ask her to be his 
 wife. She had been in Canada for the past two 
 months, but Madame Marie had told him that 
 morning she was expected home the day the 
 decree was granted. And that was to-day, and 
 she was free. As he thought of it he felt as he 
 did when he had youth at his command. "The 
 glorious springtime of youth," his heart was 
 singing within him. It seemed to him in his 
 enthusiasm that he could again feel it coursing 
 through his veins. He could not remember when 
 he had felt so happy as he did that day. To all 
 of us sometime, either early or late, comes the 
 great hour of our life, the hour to which all 
 other time is as nothing in comparison : and such
 
 LONSPETTTS HOUR 287 
 
 was the hour Lonspetti knew had come to him. 
 There is a superstition that when Fortune changes 
 the thread upon her wheel, she seals, a human 
 verdict, be it good or ill. The thought did not 
 occur to the Signer that Edythe might not wish 
 to marry so soon after her divorce. He had 
 waited so long for her that his hope had grown 
 into impatience, and now that she was free, he 
 felt he could wait no longer for her. 
 
 But she was out when he reached the studio. 
 " Every one was down at Madame Marie's," so 
 the janitor told him, having a little merrymaking 
 in honour of Clare's marriage. " Clare's wedding," 
 and he had forgotten it in his own happiness. 
 For the time being he had forgotten that destiny 
 is shaping and changing other lives than our 
 own. He remembered now that Madame had 
 invited him there that evening, and he had 
 accepted, only to forget it. Still, it was early ; 
 he would be in time even now. 
 
 They were at supper when he reached there, 
 and some one was proposing the long life and 
 happiness of the far-away bride. Consuelo, it 
 seemed, was carried away with the excitement of 
 the event, and when Lonspetti entered she was 
 standing up in her chair waving, to the great
 
 288 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 amusement of those about her, a good-sized Eng- 
 lish flag. She jumped down at seeing Lon- 
 spetti and threw herself in his arms. " Three 
 cheers for a friend of the bride," she cried in 
 her enthusiasm. Lonspetti laughed and found 
 the place kept for him by the side of Edythe. 
 
 " You would have supposed you were the 
 bridegroom," said Madame, " from the way 
 Consuelo greeted you. I confess this wedding 
 has quite turned her head." 
 
 " I suggest that we send her a cablegram of 
 congratulations," interrupted Consuelo, who would 
 not be silenced. 
 
 " To give the impression that we had long ago 
 relegated her to the ranks of spinsterhood," said 
 Edythe, and the child smiled. " However, we 
 have already cabled our good wishes to them 
 both." 
 
 Lonspetti noticed that Edythe looked uncom- 
 monly happy. It was plainly evident that she 
 was proud of her sister's marriage. " I don't 
 know him, but I'm going to like him," she said 
 brightly when Ghleska spoke of him. "At one 
 time I was opposed to Clare's marrying and giv- 
 ing up her work, but now I have come to the 
 conclusion that a happy marriage is worth the
 
 LONSPETTTS HOUR 289 
 
 destruction of fifty brilliant careers, bring what 
 they may." 
 
 " Three cheers and a world of future happiness 
 for Edythe Barattoni," cried Ghleska, rising. 
 
 Edythe rose and bowed. 
 
 " She deserves everything fortune can give 
 her," said Madame, "which includes, first of all, 
 the man who loves her." 
 
 Edythe blushed faintly and smiled. 
 
 " I beg you will accept my congratulations upon 
 your freedom," ventured Lonspetti. " I never 
 felt so happy in my life as when I heard of it." 
 
 Edythe turned to him and smiled. "You are 
 always good to think of me," she said ; " but in 
 this case I feel that Mr. Merrall is the one to 
 be congratulated. I have stood in his light so 
 long." 
 
 " You are generous," the Signer said slowly. 
 
 " No, selfish always, Signor," was the reply, 
 "never generous." As she spoke she raised her 
 eyes to his, and it seemed to him as if the woman 
 had grown more beautiful than the girl he had 
 first known ; that the sorrows she had known had 
 only heightened, not saddened, the azure of her 
 eyes. She appeared brighter and more animated 
 than he had seen her since her marriage. She
 
 290 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 was dressed very plainly in black that night, yet 
 she wore it with all the charm of an elaborate 
 dinner dress. When she laughed that night it 
 was with the old-time inflection and merriment, 
 and even Madame spoke of it. Supper was over 
 now, and Edythe had gone to get her hat. 
 
 "I am going home early, Madame," she apolo- 
 gized as she did so, " because I am tired " ; then 
 turning to the Signer she added, " I only arrived 
 home from Canada at three this afternoon ; do you 
 wonder I'm weary ? " 
 
 " Not at all ; but as I'm going home with you, 
 I shall have a chance of hearing all about your 
 trip." 
 
 Edythe assented. 
 
 "Wait just a moment," he said, "until I can 
 call a carriage." 
 
 " But I prefer walking," she interrupted. 
 
 " When you are so tired ? " 
 
 " Yes, even so," she replied ; " it is only a few 
 blocks, and I feel in the mood for it." 
 
 " You feel happy to-night," he said, as he joined 
 her. 
 
 She glanced up quickly. " I never felt much 
 happier in my life," she replied. 
 
 " Nor I," said the Signor.
 
 LONSPETTTS HOUR 291 
 
 " But you're unselfish about your happiness, and 
 I'm selfish about mine." 
 
 " And I about mine," the Signor interrupted. 
 
 She looked up again and a gleam of triumph 
 had taken the place of her old radiant smile. It 
 was evident that she did not understand him, but 
 this the Signor did not know. 
 
 For some time they walked on in silence. A 
 strong breeze was blowing, and Edythe laughed 
 as it struggled playfully with her large black hat. 
 She seemed to take everything in a happy mood 
 that night. She laughed with all the happy 
 abandon of Consuelo when the wind finally did 
 lift her hat and disarrange her hair. It had 
 grown dark and she took her hat off and let the 
 wind play with her hair. 
 
 " I am glad to see you so well and happy," the 
 Signor said tenderly. 
 
 " I fear it's not the happiness that lasts," Edythe 
 replied. 
 
 " I think it will last," the Signor said quietly. 
 
 They had reached the studio now, and the song 
 of the birds greeted them as they entered. 
 
 " Even the birds share my happiness to-night, 
 Signor," Edythe laughed. " How true it is that 
 when the soul is glad all life looks so," she said.
 
 292 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " It is as we look at it always," the Signor 
 replied. " If you always felt as happy as you do 
 to-night, you could act as you never have before." 
 
 " I don't want to hear anything about my 
 work," Edythe said, as she drew aside the long 
 curtains to let the air in. " Do you know, Signor, 
 I feel as if I never wanted to go back to the stage 
 again; I'm tired of hearing about my career; in 
 fact, I'm tired of hearing of everything that re- 
 lates to the footlights." 
 
 " I have often felt in that same mood," Lonspetti 
 said, " but with me necessity has always forced the 
 mood to pass. In your case I should be glad to 
 see you give it up." 
 
 "You are humouring me," Edythe laughed, as 
 she turned her face toward him. 
 
 " No, on the contrary I am serious about it. 
 There is no lasting glory to stage fame. It is 
 only a constant self-sacrifice with a tinsel crown 
 for the reward at the end." 
 
 " But the day is bright while it does last," 
 Edythe ventured. " I like the excitement of the 
 life, the music, the applause, the flowers. My 
 blood has always craved constant excitement. As 
 a child I had to have it, and when I was hardly 
 grown up I was never contented unless I was the
 
 LONSPETTTS HOUR 293 
 
 centre of some scene of gayety and life. I have 
 always been selfish because I was brought up to 
 be. As a child I invariably considered my own 
 feeling first ; my own wishes first. If I was made 
 to abdicate in a single instance, I was wilful, 
 unhappy, cross. And now what has come of it? 
 nothing. I have made a name for myself but, as 
 you rightly say, only a passing one, and I have 
 made a failure of my marriage." She spoke with 
 gravity. " And yet I'm happier to-night than I 
 have been for years." 
 
 " Because you are free ? " the Signor ventured. 
 
 " No, not that only." She hesitated. 
 
 "Dare I believe," said Lonspetti, drawing close 
 to her, "that my love is anything to you?" His 
 voice failed him for a moment, then he added 
 quietly, " This hour is the only thing I have lived 
 for these long years." She tried to stop him, but 
 he held her hand firmly. " I had nothing to offer 
 you when I first met you," he said quietly, " though 
 I loved you as entirely then as I do this night after 
 twelve years. You have been my inspiration, my 
 God always." He had released her hand, and she 
 had risen now and was standing at the window 
 looking out. " If you are tired of the false glamour 
 of the stage," he said, " so am I. Although my
 
 294 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 name was blotted out from the family record when 
 I left my home so many years ago as the only heir, 
 now I need no longer return as a wandering 
 violinist." He would have continued had she not 
 interrupted him. 
 
 " You do not understand me, Signer," she said. 
 
 " That you do not care for me ? " he ventured. 
 
 " It's not that," she said, " for I do. You have 
 been a friend through everything." 
 
 " And you want me to remain as such ? " the 
 Signor interrupted. 
 
 " It would be better," Edythe said. 
 
 " Since you love some one else," Lonspetti said 
 gravely. 
 
 Edythe did not reply. 
 
 " No, I did not guess," the Signor continued. 
 " I thought from what you told me a few moments 
 ago that you had given up looking for that pot of 
 gold at the end of the rainbow." He spoke with 
 feeling, and he paced nervously up and down the 
 room. " Edythe," he said, and he took her hands 
 tightly in his, " you don't know when life holds the 
 best it can offer for you." She did not answer 
 him, and he continued: "The life that you are 
 picturing now seems the happiest to you because I 
 suppose it's been an old dream and you've made it
 
 LONSPETTI'S HOUR 295 
 
 a part of your existence. You are free now, and 
 you feel that it will all materialize as you have 
 pictured it. It won't, dear ; it wouldn't give you 
 happiness if it did." 
 
 " I am going to give up my career," Edythe said 
 slowly. 
 
 " Then God bless you and help you as you have 
 helped me." 
 
 " But are you never coming back, Signer ? " 
 Edythe said, as he opened the door. 
 
 As he turned to her she saw that his eyes looked 
 strangely vacant. " Not if there's room enough 
 in the world for us to live and stay apart," he said. 
 There was a piteous smile on his face as he took 
 her hands in parting. " If I was unkind in any- 
 thing I said to you to-night, forgive me, for when I 
 spoke of the rainbow chasers I was speaking of 
 myself, and quite forgot that you may find the 
 happiness that you deserve." 
 
 A sensation of terror came over her as he said 
 it, and she put out her hand to stay him, but before 
 she had realized it, he had gone.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 THE TRUMP CARD 
 "Man is man and master of his fate." TENNYSON. 
 
 " AND what of the world, Raffaelli, when it has 
 done with you, when like a woman who has made 
 a man hope because of her, it turns like a viper 
 upon him and stings him to the death ? " 
 
 It was Lonspetti who was speaking. There 
 were only the two men in Raffaelli's room that 
 evening, the actor and the musician. Raffaelli 
 was smoking, but if Lonspetti had been, he had 
 thrown his cigar away. Raffaelli poured out a 
 glass of sherry and handed it to him, but he only 
 set it down. 
 
 " You are good to think of me," he said, " but it 
 will not do to-night. What is balm for the body 
 is poison for the brain." 
 
 " You make your brain your master, do you ? " 
 queried Raffaelli. 
 
 " It is the master of us all," quickly responded 
 296
 
 THE TRUMP CARD 297 
 
 Lonspetti. " When the brain has ceased to act, 
 the body is like a tree with the roots cut away 
 helpless at death's mercy. The brain is the centre 
 of all that is good and evil. It makes men what 
 they are. It is man's greatest inheritance, and 
 the least prized of all his possessions." 
 
 The Signer took quick strides about the room 
 as he spoke. 
 
 " I am not myself to-night," he said. " I am 
 like a man who has thrown the highest card 
 and lost." 
 
 Raffaelli threw his cigar into the fire. " It is a 
 satisfaction to have ever held cards that count," 
 he said, "even if one played to lose." 
 
 "To lose," Lonspetti laughed "to lose." 
 There was the hollowness of a broken heart in his 
 laugh. " What is life after all," he said, " but a 
 game of chance in which fortune's favoured chil- 
 dren win? When you find Fate playing against 
 you, throw up the game before she counts it hers. 
 Unfortunately, I fought to the last card." He 
 laughed again. " And then people fear death " 
 
 The clock on the mantel struck two. Lon- 
 spetti started. 
 
 " I must be going," he said. 
 
 " Not to-night, Signor," interrupted Raffaelli.
 
 298 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " Yes, to-night. Perhaps in the cool morning 
 air I shall feel better." 
 
 " You will only feel lonelier," said Raffaelli ; 
 " the stars are too far away to be good company 
 sometimes ; and the moon, she is no man's friend. 
 Come, stay with me to-night." 
 
 But Lonspetti shook his head. 
 
 " Not to-night," he said again. "There is much 
 to do. I feel like a sailor who has been ordered 
 to sea. There is much preparation when one is 
 starting on a long voyage." 
 
 Raffaelli studied the dying embers of the grate 
 fire. 
 
 " I don't believe I understand you," he said, 
 glancing up. 
 
 " Nor I, myself," said Lonspetti, then he 
 laughed. He had drawn on his long cloak and 
 with the violin tucked under his arm, he was 
 about to pass out, but again Raffaelli interrupted 
 him. 
 
 " If you must go, let me accompany you," he 
 said. 
 
 "You are good," said Lonspetti, laying his hand 
 on Raffaelli's shoulder, " but I must beg of you to 
 remain. You must not forget," he emphasized, 
 and there was sadness in his voice, "that I am
 
 THE TRUMP CARD 299 
 
 accustomed to journeying alone. My coming and 
 going provokes no one's peace of mind, and I 
 fancy the end of all will be as unpropitious. " 
 
 As he spoke, he drew on the cover over the 
 violin. Raffaelli thought he heard the Stradivarius 
 sighing. " Some French philosopher tells us," he 
 said, " that he who would travel the fastest must 
 travel alone." 
 
 " You are too young to believe those things," 
 replied Lonspetti. 
 
 He had opened the door and through the hall 
 windows the moon was looking in. Lonspetti 
 stepped in its shadow. 
 
 " Don't let success make you pessimistic," he 
 said, holding out his hand ; " for Fame is but the 
 illusion of an hour. Though she walks by our 
 side in the noonday hour, she forsakes us when it 
 is passed. With her caresses man becomes vain 
 and cynical. A man who seeks but her for his 
 friend has naught in possession, and naught in the 
 end." He was still holding the younger man's 
 hand. " The golden dreams of youth," he said, 
 " have all to perish. Despair will seek us in our 
 hour of hope. There is only one light which 
 outlasts and outshines all others, even death 
 itself and that is love. It has been denied me,
 
 300 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 and yet I still give it as the password to 
 Elysium." 
 
 He had said good night, and the old moon had 
 had time to creep back to her shadowy places in 
 the long hall before Raffaelli went back into his 
 room and left them to themselves.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 A SHIP HAS PUT TO SEA 
 
 " He is dead, the sweet musician. 
 He has moved a little nearer 
 To the Master of all music." LONGFELLOW. 
 
 " QUIET, my violin, quiet. Don't let your heart 
 break like mine because the world has played 
 thee false. As love inspired music in the begin- 
 ning, it is right that it should die because of 
 it, since when life passes, the soul does. You 
 are sobbing, violin, yet my eyes are dry. Tears 
 are a woman's right. As I listen to-night to 
 your voice, I am conscious for the first time 
 that your soul and heart is that of a woman, 
 only your love is the greater since it was never 
 tainted by earth's sin and deception. You are 
 trembling to-night, violin ; yet I am brave, though 
 the world will call me weak, but it will never 
 reach our ears yours and mine. After the boat 
 has slipped its mooring, by the time the sun 
 rises, we shall be too far out at sea to know to 
 301
 
 302 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 care. After all, the world is like a woman, with 
 a woman's nature. She would have me stay. 
 They say that a woman finds fascination in a 
 man's suffering when it is for her sake. And 
 you would have me stay also, violin. It cannot 
 be that after all these years I mistake your last 
 message, and you would keep me here. There is 
 sorrow to-night in your voice, violin, such as I 
 have never heard before, and none will ever 
 know again, since where death is there is silence. 
 It is the thought of death, not death itself, that 
 men fear ; yet it is the only consolation that life 
 holds the only happiness that lasts." 
 
 " We have suffered together," the violin sobbed. 
 
 " Yes, suffered together," murmured Lonspetti, 
 "and so together we will pass out of the harbour 
 to blessed oblivion." 
 
 But the violin was silent. 
 
 "We have played our parts, violin, and now 
 the lights are going out. The play will still go 
 on, but we shall have taken our departure. We 
 have earned it you and I. It is only a 
 gilded farce that we are cutting away from, and 
 the sooner that we are out of it, the better. 
 Each part calls for an exit, sooner or later : the 
 man intrusted with the role of a king, and the
 
 A SHIP HAS PUT TO SEA 303 
 
 one less fortunate with the role of a beggar. 
 The prompter does not show us in what progress 
 of the play the duel with death, the greatest 
 scene of all, is to be enacted; but we will not 
 wait for death's challenge, it may be long in 
 coming. We will take it upon ourselves and 
 challenge him. So one more song, my Stradi- 
 varius a song of triumph, not of a broken heart ; 
 a song of hope that will carry comfort with it as 
 it reechoes down the annals of the ages." 
 
 Lonspetti's eyes were glistening as he raised 
 the violin to its accustomed place, but with 
 unshed tears. His hand was trembling a little, 
 yet he held the bow with all the old-time firm- 
 ness. He drew it once across the strings, but 
 there came no sound from them. 
 
 " Once more," murmured Lonspetti, and he 
 touched the strings again. The young man 
 across the hall from Lonspetti's room was 
 awakened by the music of the violin. He had 
 arrived only that afternoon from one of the smaller 
 towns west of the Mississippi, where music such 
 as that was never heard. He was heart-heavy 
 when he had fallen asleep that night. Those 
 who did not know his story would have called 
 it homesickness, though all that had made his
 
 304 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 home, his mother, had forever passed from it. 
 It seemed to him, as he lay there and thought 
 of her, as if he could never brave the world 
 without her. He wondered if her way was as 
 lonely as his. It was while he was thinking of 
 her that the music of Lonspetti's Stradivarius 
 broke in upon his revery came like a message 
 of consolation to his soul. For the moment he 
 thought as he lay there and listened to it that 
 the music must come from the city where God 
 is, and he could hear it because the gates were 
 opened for his mother to pass to the throne. If 
 it is the pure in heart that shall look upon the 
 face of God, it is such that are privileged while 
 on earth to hear the music of His kingdom. 
 The music that came to him was of the great 
 love of Him who died for the world ; the unselfish 
 love that is our only stronghold in the time of 
 trouble and in death ; the love that is devoid of 
 earth's passions and longings : such was the 
 music that sought his tired soul that night. 
 As he listened to it he could feel upon his 
 cheek a soothing feeling like that of a breeze 
 passing over the bosom of a calm sea. He could 
 hear its low sighing as it passed onward up the 
 narrows of restlessness to the river of Lethe.
 
 A SHIP HAS PUT TO SEA 305 
 
 Strange violin to weave such pictures on the 
 mind's canvas ; but if you have brought peace to at 
 least one tired heart, you have not indeed sought 
 God in vain but have found Him. 
 
 But the music passed. Like an angel of hope 
 intermingling the music of earth with the melodies 
 of heaven, it had accomplished its mission and was 
 gone, and in the stillness that followed a voice was 
 heard to murmur good night. 
 
 A long silence followed. The stranger across 
 the hall listened again for the sound of the music, 
 but it did not come. It had passed up the river 
 with the Pilot for a ship had put to sea.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 THE SEAL OF SILENCE 
 
 "The breaking of a heart leaves no traces." SAND. 
 
 " FOR every generous heart that ceases to beat 
 the world grows poorer." 
 
 It was Marie's tribute to the memory of Signer 
 Lonspetti. The news of his sudden death had 
 come to her, as it had come to all those who knew 
 him, like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. He had 
 indeed solved a mystery, he and his inseparable 
 companion the old Stradivarius. There were all 
 kinds of rumours circulated about the city when the 
 report of his death reached the ears of the public. 
 " It is hard enough to live in the lime-light of pub- 
 lic praise or censure," said Madame, when she 
 heard of them, " without having to die in it. God 
 pity us we of the profession." How true at this 
 time come to us those words of the philosopher, 
 "To amuse the public, what a sad vocation for 
 one who thinks ! " 
 
 To Edythe the news came with sadder and 
 306
 
 THE SEAL OF SILENCE 307 
 
 greater significance than it had come to Marie. 
 When Consuelo brought the news to her she was 
 inclined to look upon it as a false report, for 
 Raffaelli had been at the studio but an hour before, 
 and he had spoken of the Signer's visit to him the 
 very night he was reported to have died. It was 
 not ten minutes later when Ghleska came in and 
 confirmed the news, for he had been to Lonspetti's 
 apartment and knew that the Signer was dead. It 
 is when the friend without a word of parting passes 
 over the border line between the here and the 
 hereafter that the human heart cries out in its 
 most potent tenderness and affection, " One word 
 before the parting." The saddest good-by is the 
 one that is never spoken the good-by that re- 
 mains hallowed and treasured in many an empty 
 heart, because some one, some time, passed away 
 without it. If, for we do not know, the newly 
 dead ever feel the anguish that they leave behind 
 them, Lonspetti knew that a woman's heart was 
 crying to him for a word of forgiveness. It is a 
 universal belief that wishes, like winged messen- 
 gers, reach those for whom they are intended ; and 
 if the thought is true, and death changes us not, a 
 soul lingered long enough to send back a message 
 of peace,
 
 308 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Madame was at the Signer's rooms when Edythe 
 with the child Consuelo reached them. It was 
 only then that she knew that the Signor had taken 
 the violin with him. In singular sympathy with the 
 broken and dead heart of the master player lay 
 the broken Stradivarius. Love would have thrust 
 aside the curtain had not death's hand stayed it. 
 There was a smile upon the face of the dead prince 
 of players. He had challenged death himself and 
 he had lost, apparently satisfied with his defeat. 
 But this, only those who challenge him know ! To 
 one who knew the Signor the thought came, 
 " Might not regret come when we are hastened 
 past the guards of death of our own volition ? " 
 If there was any regret in Lonspetti's heart when 
 the final cue came from the King of Mystery to 
 the prince of violinists, he answered it with a smile 
 upon his lips. The blank that death leaves upon 
 a face was not upon his. It seemed to Edythe, as 
 she sat there beside him, as if the eyes that had 
 told her of his great love for her would yet look 
 into hers again. Consuelo put her arms about 
 Edythe's neck to comfort her, for the tears were 
 falling as a woman's will when she is suffering. 
 
 "You must come away," whispered the child. 
 "Grandmere says he has won more happi-
 
 THE SEAL OF SILENCE 309 
 
 ness now than he ever could have known on 
 earth." 
 
 " If we could only believe in that assurance," 
 came the reply. "It is only man's hopeful sup- 
 position." 
 
 "But don't you believe that we shall see him 
 again," queried the child, "when we die and go 
 to heaven too ? " 
 
 "If we could only call him back now," came 
 her answer. " He has been gone such a little 
 while." She leaned close to the bed and put her 
 hand in his. Death had closed his eyes, and he 
 was smiling proudly for all that. The morning 
 sun, which had been hidden until then, came into 
 the window behind him and threw its light about 
 his head like the protecting wings of the angels 
 who had taken him from their sight. 
 
 Some strangers came into the room at that 
 moment ; the physician who was one of them had 
 sent for them. Madame Marie laid some violets 
 on the still heart of the Signor, and after a silent 
 good-by the two women and the child passed 
 into the outer room. The violin was there, for 
 some one had taken it away from the Signor and 
 had put what was left of it into its case. 
 
 "They will bury it with him, will they not,
 
 310 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 grandmere ? " sobbed Consuelo, when Madame 
 paused to look at it. If there was an answer, the 
 child did not hear it. Madame, who until then 
 had kept back the grief that was in her heart, 
 knelt down by the side of the old violin and with 
 her arms clasped about it, as a mother would her 
 dead child, said : " Father in heaven, send to the 
 highway to guide safely to Thee a soul who has 
 slipped anchor and has put to sea without await- 
 ing Thy command. Father, receive him and for- 
 give him if in Thy sight he has sinned against 
 Thee." A child's voice sobbed an amen. She 
 rose, and Consuelo slipped a hand into hers. 
 Edythe had passed into the hall and was awaiting 
 them there. As the three went down the stairs, 
 a young man opened the door opposite to Lon- 
 spetti's, and Madame turned, for she saw that he 
 was anxious to speak to her. 
 
 " I was wondering," he said, " if a stranger 
 might look upon the face of the dead violinist. I 
 heard him playing in the early hours of the morn- 
 ing, and I am told that he died soon afterward." 
 
 Edythe and Consuelo went on, but Madame 
 turned back. To her he told the story of the 
 strange music that had awakened him that day 
 how it had brought hope and peace in the hour
 
 THE SEAL OF SILENCE 311 
 
 of its own most potent anguish. She listened to 
 the story of the violin's last song : how in its part- 
 ing it had told that there was another and a 
 brighter world than this; how it had passed on, 
 leaving a message of joy triumphant, not of dead 
 hope or a broken heart. Edythe and the child 
 waited for her in the lower hall, but when she did 
 not come they went on without her. Already 
 there was a crowd of people gathered about the 
 house and reporters anxious for news. It was 
 some time before Madame came, and when she 
 did come, she had opened her great heart to the 
 young stranger alone in the large metropolis. 
 
 To the world that lies outside the landless king- 
 dom of Bohemia the shore is somewhat clouded 
 by smoke, but it is only to the eyes of the pessi- 
 mist that the obstruction is visible. We hear of 
 the inhabitants of Bohemia and the pace they are 
 all going, but we seldom hear of the hearts in its 
 midst which are always and ever ready to respond 
 to a note of human suffering, and who go about 
 in the world carrying with them a sort of an in- 
 visible orchestra that never ceases in its glorious 
 hosannas to the stars. 
 
 The pace that kills! Some woman reporter 
 wrote it as the heading of her article on the Sig-
 
 312 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 nor's death. Madame's eyes filled when she saw 
 it ; but then she recovered herself, for as she most 
 truly said, " Those that are going the pace always 
 feel as if the entire world were with them." 
 
 No master of stage art could have devised his 
 death more akin with his life than Signer Lon- 
 spetti. The stories in the different papers dif- 
 fered as widely as the beliefs of their authors. 
 Reports were current that he was a hypnotist and 
 not a musician, and by that power controlled his 
 hearers. Mystery invariably breeds suspicion. 
 The newspaper men sought Madame as one of his 
 friends who would know of his life; but if she 
 knew anything of his past before he shone like 
 a meteor upon the musical world, she did not part 
 the veil that hid it. 
 
 " You know something of his past, surely," one 
 reporter ventured. " I am told that you have 
 known him for years." 
 
 " But in those years have been too busy to 
 attend to other than my own affairs," she said, 
 "and I thank Heaven for it. I have often 
 thought that if we shall have to account for our 
 entire lives in another world, how many of us will 
 find that most of our time was spent in attending 
 to other people's business. If you would give to
 
 THE SEAL OF SILENCE 313 
 
 the world the truth," Madame continued, "write 
 of him as he was, a genius, a friend, a lover of 
 the people, a working helper in the cause of suf- 
 fering or in any phase of poverty or distress, a 
 lover of truth ; in one word, a man whose life was 
 never stained with cruelty or dishonour." 
 
 At the services a few days afterward there 
 were but few dry eyes. There was a brief ad- 
 dress by a minister at the close of the service, in 
 which he made touching mention of Lonspetti's 
 love for the poor, and how the lives of those he 
 had brightened here would shed radiance upon 
 him in the sight of God. " If there are those," 
 said the minister in closing, "who will remember 
 him as a man of mystery and of moods, a man 
 who produced music that was sometimes super- 
 natural, there are those others who will ever re- 
 member his greatness of spirit, his goodness of 
 heart, and his loyalty to those he loved best. 
 After all, what can it matter to the world who he 
 was, since the mystery is buried with the body, 
 and death is the greatest mystery man knows." 
 
 Madame owned a resting-place at Greenwood, 
 as she called her plot there, and to it all that was 
 mortal of the Signor was consigned.
 
 314 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Years afterward, if it does not interrupt my 
 story to tell of it, an Italian gentleman sought the 
 American government to gain information regard- 
 ing an Italian prince, who had left his country 
 when a boy with a strolling violinist. No trace 
 of him had been discovered until a connoisseur 
 brought to Italy that year, from a London curios- 
 ity shop, a part of the Stradivarius containing the 
 mark of the famous missing instrument for which 
 a fortune had been offered as a means to find the 
 scion of their noble house. 
 
 Whether or not the investigation or the pictures 
 of the Signer offered in evidence proved satisfac- 
 tory or not, was never known. When the stran- 
 ger returned to Italy, he took with him the body 
 of the Signer, and there in the tomb of his own 
 people, on the outskirts of Florence, Lonspetti 
 rests in death.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 AN UNBIDDEN GUEST 
 
 " But what are dreams ? nothing to have or hold 
 A strange transmission from the body of the soul." 
 
 " IT doesn't seem as if we could be at last 
 together." 
 
 " But we are." 
 
 " And that nothing in this world or the next can 
 ever come between us again." 
 
 " Never." She said it almost in a whisper. He 
 looked into her eyes and found there were tears 
 there. He took her in his arms and kissed them 
 away, and where the tears had been happiness 
 now smiled. 
 
 " Why did you ever let me go away when you 
 loved me ? " 
 
 " Because of my love for you." 
 
 "Thank God, you came before it was too 
 late." 
 
 " I came that we might work together in His 
 service." 
 
 315
 
 316 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " You believe, then, in the Redeemer of the 
 world ? " There was a triumphant ring in his 
 voice. 
 
 " I have borne His cross," he heard her say. 
 " Love and death have revealed Him to me." 
 
 She was trembling from head to foot. Though 
 he held her close, he felt as if she was slipping 
 away from him. They were in a railway com- 
 partment, speeding toward London. They had 
 been married that morning. " Was it possible," he 
 thought, " after their long parting, that an accident 
 was to separate them again this time until eter- 
 nity ? " He made an effort to keep her with him. 
 He was aware that something had happened. 
 
 " Edythe," he said, but there was silence. A 
 sensation of terror crept over him. It had sud- 
 denly grown dark. The moment before the sun 
 had been shining brightly. Now he could no 
 longer trace the walls of the compartment. The 
 bells began to ring over the city. As he listened 
 to them they sounded like church bells. He put 
 out his hand to find a door or a window. He then 
 realized that he was lying on his back. "It must 
 have been an accident," he thought, " and Edythe 
 has been taken from me." He struggled to a sit- 
 ting position, and when he opened his eyes, he
 
 AN UNBIDDEN GUEST 317 
 
 found that he was still in London, that there had 
 been no accident, nothing but the passing of a 
 dream. 
 
 But how his heart was beating ! He could still 
 feel the pressure of Edythe's hand in his, although 
 he had come to a full realization of his senses. 
 She was his then. Perhaps the only time he 
 would ever have her. Dreams are strange things. 
 In them, if never in reality, we realize our hearts' 
 dearest wishes. We cross barriers that in life are 
 unsurmountable. We greet faces, dead and living, 
 which have long been parted from us. Dear 
 dream world of the soul! 
 
 Mr. Courtney rose and looked out upon London. 
 The church bells were ringing all over the city 
 for early service. It had been his intention the 
 night before to attend the early celebration. The 
 night before he had resolved to give up all thought 
 of Edythe, and to consecrate his life forever to 
 the work he had begun. If the world tempted 
 him again, he would take the vows of life-long 
 poverty and celibacy. The night before he had 
 become enthusiastic over his work his great 
 work for Christ. If Satan had ever wrestled for 
 his soul with the temptations of the world and its 
 desires, he had at last been overthrown and
 
 318 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 conquered. But he had loved. He tried to feel 
 that love, too, had been overthrown ; but he well 
 knew that that had not been. In his renewed 
 fight for the salvation of man and the upholding 
 of Christianity, in the garb of a brotherhood, if 
 the world tempt him again, in whatever field his 
 work took him, only God alone would know of the 
 great struggle that had threatened to wreck him 
 of the love that had brought him nearer to 
 Christ's cross. He had loved. The thought had 
 stifled him the night before as he thought of 
 Edythe, and realized that hereafter their ways 
 would lead in opposite directions. He remem- 
 bered how he had held his breath when he 
 thought of it opposite directions, the only 
 woman he had ever loved ; but then again the 
 thought came, only for this short terminal of life, 
 for all paths lead to the judgment seat, and per- 
 haps she would be his in the world to come. Life 
 is short, the soul whispered to his heart that night. 
 Death is long and death is sweet. 
 
 But another day had dawned since then. It 
 was only the next morning, but a shepherd urging 
 his flock heavenward stopped again to look back 
 upon the earth. The struggle between God and 
 man was not over yet. Mr. Courtney's face was
 
 AN UNBIDDEN GUEST 319 
 
 white as he stood in the glorious sunlight of the 
 new day, and thought of it. The contest, the 
 warfare between his soul and his heart, was again 
 striving for victory. His conscience began to 
 mock him in his revery. What of the vows 
 of celibacy in the life of the monastery ; what of 
 the upholding of Christianity and the uprooting 
 of heathenism ; what of the love for Christ over 
 the passions of earth love ? It was his own con- 
 science fighting again for the doctrine of his 
 religion his own conscience. Strange thought 
 when he realized it. He turned his face away 
 from the sunlight. The memory of the dream 
 began to come back and to shape itself once 
 more upon his mind. He remembered the feel- 
 ing in his heart when he realized that Edythe 
 was his. His his forever. He could still see 
 the wet lashes on her cheek when he kissed her. 
 He had a right to think of it; it was only a 
 dream, and yet his heart was beating as if the 
 dream had been life. How like a tired child she 
 had felt in his arms. He could still feel the 
 pressure of her little hand upon his shoulder and 
 it had never been there, never would be there, 
 his conscience tried to say, but he would not 
 hear it. In the glory of the sunlight he could see
 
 320 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 her glorious eyes turned to his. Waiting for 
 him, perhaps, he thought ; God knows if she only 
 was. Some one spoke in the hall outside his 
 door. For the moment he thought it was 
 Edythe's voice and that she had come for him. 
 But no, she was not there. Perhaps it was her 
 thought of him that brought them together 
 some transmitted thought that had reached him 
 and delivered its message. After the long parting 
 it was difficult to believe that it could be true and 
 now that she was free, was thinking, perhaps 
 wondering, why he did not come to her. Poor 
 pensioners upon destiny, blindfolded players in the 
 royal game of chance, children of fate ! 
 
 Mr. Courtney threw open the window and the 
 peace of the city crept in like a bird that had 
 been pecking at the sash for admittance. The 
 church bells had ceased ringing. If he had 
 paused to look out, he would have seen the 
 people on their way to church. It had been his 
 intention to go the night before. The dream had 
 changed that thought since then. Once again 
 love thrust all else aside. 
 
 An hour later found Mr. Courtney at his desk, 
 writing. It seemed to him as if his pen was 
 listening to the soul's entreaties, and not to the
 
 AN UNBIDDEN GUEST 321 
 
 cry of his heart. Perhaps it was his love for 
 Edythe that filled his mind with thoughts of her 
 and slackened the pen's progress. After all, his 
 work could never bury his love for her, try as 
 he would, and as his pen travelled over the 
 paper his mind likewise wandered to her side. 
 Perhaps, who knew but what the dream was a 
 forecast of the future. She was free now. The 
 word helped him as he wrote. 
 
 " MY DEAR LITTLE WOMAN : Your last words to 
 me when I parted from you have haunted me day 
 and night since I left you, for they were never 
 answered until now. I am coming back the day 
 that you send for me. I shall leave London 
 the hour that your message comes. God grant 
 that my wait will not be in vain. 
 
 " It is now more than a year since I have 
 seen you. I have reflected long and deeply on 
 my duty toward God and toward you, and the 
 answer has come to me in the solitude of my 
 meditation that there need be no laying down of 
 one yoke because of the taking up of another, 
 since there will be two to wear them. 
 
 " From time to time I have learned of the 
 troubles that have come to you, and my grief
 
 322 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 was the more that I could not be near to help 
 you bear them. You are a brave little woman " 
 
 He stopped and read the letter over. So far 
 it would do. His hand had trembled a little 
 over some of the words, but love is impatient. 
 Edythe would understand that when the letter 
 came to her. But what would her answer be ? 
 In his desire to see her, in his love for her, he 
 had not thought of any other answer than "to 
 come to her." But he would finish the letter. 
 There was a calendar hanging on the wall be- 
 side him, and he paused now to count the days 
 that the letter would be on its journey to America. 
 There would be no outgoing mail until the 
 following Tuesday, but he would finish and send 
 it. Perhaps the earnest wish and love it con- 
 tained would reach the woman for whom it was 
 intended before the written words came to her. 
 Stranger things than that had happened. 
 
 And then the anxious wait for the answer; 
 and after that the journey to her. 
 
 Again the dream stole back, and he stopped 
 writing to think of it. But he had finished the 
 letter now. He had even signed and directed 
 it. By night it would have started on its journey
 
 AN UNBIDDEN GUEST 323 
 
 to New York. There was a knock at his door. 
 Mr. Courtney rose to open it. For a moment, 
 in the semi-darkness of the hall, Mr. Courtney 
 did not recognize his visitor until Dr. Mcllvaine, 
 gripsack in hand, stepped into his room. 
 
 " I became weary waiting for you, Rodgers," 
 he said gravely, as he took both of the young 
 man's hands in his. " Sometimes I feared you 
 may have forgotten the work you laid aside." 
 
 Mr. Courtney grasped the hands that held his 
 tighter, but he did not speak. " The work," he 
 was thinking, "the work that would not let him 
 rest." 
 
 " I may take you back with me ? " the elder 
 man continued. " It is not good for man to lay 
 aside Christ's yoke too long." 
 
 " I am going home after a little time," came 
 the quiet reply. 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine sighed deeply. "Then the 
 world is still amusing you, and the work must 
 wait. Am I right?" he asked after a moment. 
 
 Mr. Courtney's head was down. He was 
 thinking thinking. 
 
 "Answer, my son," the elder man entreated. 
 He was standing by the small library table try- 
 ing to make a place for some of his numerous
 
 324 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 belongings upon it. As he moved the papers, 
 Mr. Courtney's letter to Edythe fell from them 
 to the floor. 
 
 Whether or not he noticed the address upon 
 it, as he picked it up, we do not know. Mr. 
 Courtney stepped forward and took it from his 
 hands. Their eyes met, but there was silence. 
 
 " I have been a traitor, a hypocrite even unto 
 myself," the inner man confessed to the soul as 
 he destroyed the letter and the soul whispered 
 back, " It is for such as thee Christ is dying 
 daily."
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A MEETING AND A PARTING 
 
 " Let the world slide." 
 
 No one ever knew what the conversation was 
 that passed between the two clergymen the next 
 morning, but when Dr. Mcllvaine returned home 
 the following week Mr. Courtney was not with him. 
 
 The fall had come and gone, and he was still 
 in London. He had taken larger apartments for 
 the winter, and his study had become a favourite 
 resort for the London clergy. Though Mr. 
 Courtney had come as a stranger to London, in 
 the year and a half he had lived there he had 
 made many friends and had become popular and 
 well known among the clergy. He had preached 
 several times since he had been there : twice at 
 Saint George's, in Hanover Square, and his ser- 
 mons had been well received. There was an un- 
 definable look of godliness about the man when 
 he stood in the pulpit. His voice was low at 
 times, yet ever tremulous with feeling. He gave 
 
 325
 
 326 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 every promise of becoming one of the most popu- 
 lar and prominent preachers of the church. 
 There was something about him that appealed to 
 the masses. It might have been his great gift 
 as an orator. Old and young alike fell under 
 the spell of his eloquence. Dr. Mcllvaine was 
 very proud of him, yet he feared the man's great- 
 est power lay in his own 'personality. 
 
 Yet it might have been the great sincerity Mr. 
 Courtney put into everything he did, everything 
 he said, that impressed people so forcibly. There 
 was something so calm, so spiritual, in his every 
 movement. He gave one the impression that 
 Christ and the church alone occupied his heart 
 and soul, and he had no place nor thought for 
 any other love than that. No one realized who 
 heard him preach that the face of a young and 
 beautiful woman was ever in his thoughts, and it 
 was because of his love for her he could preach 
 the better the love of Christ crucified. When he 
 preached of sacrifices, he spoke as a man who 
 had known and understood them. Yet the great- 
 est sacrifice of his life had been Edythe's victory, 
 not his. He had told Dr. Mcllvaine of this when 
 he was in London, and he was glad of it now that 
 he had gone. He felt at least Dr. Mcllvaine
 
 A MEETING AND A PARTING 327 
 
 would understand Edythe better now. As he 
 took up the paper that afternoon he saw a men- 
 tion of her name among the theatrical news of 
 New York. There was never a day but that he 
 glanced up and down the columns for some men- 
 tion of her. To-day it referred to her forthcoming 
 production of " The Merchant of Venice." It 
 was only a brief notice, but he cut it out and laid 
 it between the leaves of his note-book. As he 
 did so, several of the other clippings fell out, 
 among them the account of Lonspetti's death. 
 He was reading it over when a servant interrupted 
 him with a letter. For the moment the writing 
 looked strange to him. It was a small, square 
 envelope, heavily bordered with black, but when 
 he reflected a little he recognized it as Madame 
 Marie's writing. It was only a brief note, telling 
 him that she and Consuelo were in London, and 
 would be delighted to have him dine with them 
 that evening at seven, should he have no other 
 engagement 
 
 The writing was large and bold, and though 
 the words were few, they well filled the four sides 
 of the paper. The whole letter was characteristic 
 of the woman, even to the signature written 
 boldly across the face of it, " Thine ever, Marie."
 
 328 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Mr. Courtney's face brightened as he read it. 
 So he was to see Madame Marie and little Con- 
 suelo that evening. He took out his watch and 
 looked at the time ; it was four o'clock. And the 
 more he thought of seeing them the lighter his 
 heart grew, for now he felt he should have news 
 about Edythe. Madame Marie would tell him all 
 about her life since he went away, about her 
 freedom, and if she was well and happy. As 
 he read the note over he seemed to feel her in- 
 fluence about it. Surely the fates in some way 
 were bringing her closer to him; this he knew, 
 for he could see her face plainer than he had 
 been able to picture it for months, and it was 
 smiling, as if she were happy. There was a world 
 of love in her eyes when she smiled, and yet 
 people had called her heartless. "The world is 
 quick to condemn," he thought, "and slow to 
 praise. The world makes blunders, but answers 
 for none of its mistakes. Heaven pity those 
 whom it turns against." It seemed to him as 
 if seven o'clock would never come. He went out 
 and ordered some flowers sent to Madame. She 
 was passionately fond of roses, and Mr. Courtney 
 had not forgotten it. 
 
 When he sent up his card a few hours later he
 
 A MEETING AND A PARTING 329 
 
 found Madame Marie and Consuelo at dinner. 
 Madame rose at once as he was shown to her 
 table. 
 
 " I feared you were not coming," she said, 
 "when I received your card among the roses, so 
 this surprise makes the pleasure the greater." 
 
 Mr. Courtney bowed. " It was stupid of me, 
 I confess," he laughed, "not to have written a 
 word of acceptance upon it. The truth is, I never 
 thought of it." 
 
 Madame smiled graciously. "The offence is 
 quite a pardonable one," she said brightly. 
 
 Consuelo in the meantime had slipped down 
 from her chair and was holding Mr. Courtney's 
 hand tightly. He turned now and embraced her. 
 
 " What a big girl she has grown to be ! " he said, 
 as he held her out at arm's length, "but every 
 dimple is still there," he added, as she looked up 
 at him and laughed. 
 
 " I shall give her away the moment she loses 
 them," Madame said, as they were seated. 
 
 "I'll take her with or without them," Mr. 
 Courtney said. 
 
 Consuelo blushed prettily and passed him the 
 menu. 
 
 "You would hardly think from Consuelo's
 
 330 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 silence that you had been the one topic of her 
 conversation, the knight of her heart, since you 
 went away." 
 
 Mr. Courtney's face brightened. "No, I 
 thought she had forgotten me," he answered. 
 
 Consuelo looked up at her grandmother and 
 laughed. 
 
 " She has been as true to you as if you had 
 been there," Madame said ; " but come, tell me 
 what you have been doing all this long time in 
 England," she added, " I confess I am curious to 
 know." 
 
 " I regret to say, nothing," Mr. Courtney said 
 slowly. 
 
 "You are always modest," was her comment as 
 she turned to him. 
 
 An hour later when they were through dinner 
 she broached the subject again. " You have not 
 told me," she said, "what you have been doing 
 since we saw you last in New York." 
 
 They had now passed into Madame's apart- 
 ment, and as she spoke she turned from him 
 slightly to where the roses he had sent her stood. 
 
 " I must confess, only waiting," was the answer. 
 
 As he watched her standing there, he thought 
 that she looked even younger than when he
 
 A MEETING AND A PARTING 331 
 
 last saw her. She was dressed as usual in heavy 
 mourning, for "her dead and buried youth," 
 as she once aptly expressed it, though the dress 
 she wore that night was particularly conspicuous 
 for a long evening train of crape. Had it not 
 been for her unusual animation at dinner, one 
 would have supposed from her dress she had but 
 that afternoon returned from the funeral of a 
 deeply lamented husband. She wore her bonnet 
 and veil in the dining room, and even Mr. 
 Courtney, who remembered her singular partiality 
 for mourning, was wont to wonder if Consuelo's 
 mother was still numbered among the living. He 
 inquired for her when the opportunity presented 
 itself, and he was told that she was somewhere in 
 America. " I say ' somewhere,' since she rarely 
 stops in the same place two days in succession." 
 She spoke of the success her operas had met with 
 in Boston the spring before, and how she had 
 spent the proceeds on a trip to the Klondyke 
 during the summer. " I believe now she thinks 
 there is more money to be made in mining than 
 composing, and she may be right." 
 
 " It would seem a rather perilous trip for a 
 woman to make in search of gold," Mr. Courtney 
 said.
 
 332 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 " It does seem so," Madame said after a mo- 
 ment; "but that didn't prevent her from going." 
 
 " And you didn't oppose it at all ? " Mr. Court- 
 ney interrupted. 
 
 " No, for the good reason that when I heard of 
 it she was on board the steamer leaving Seattle." 
 
 Mr. Courtney laughed, and even Madame looked 
 amused. 
 
 " I'm going back with her in the spring," Con- 
 suelo volunteered. 
 
 Mr. Courtney looked amazed. 
 
 "Then she expects to put me under ground," 
 Madame said, as she turned to him. " She forgets 
 that those who have been there rarely tell of the 
 danger signs they encountered. I fancy among 
 the Klondykers there is a certain honour observed 
 as among thieves." 
 
 There was a brief silence for a moment, and Mr. 
 Courtney wanted to ask for Edythe, but something 
 rose in his throat and choked him. Madame spoke 
 of Lonspetti's death, and the void it had made in 
 their little circle. " Edythe has never recovered 
 from it," she said. " She tells me that she is no 
 longer willing to remain alone in the studio, he 
 was there so much of the time. The very walls 
 seem to breathe again the music of his old Stradi-
 
 A MEETING AND A PARTING 333 
 
 varius." Madame's voice grew singularly tender 
 as she spoke of him. " It is hard for the world to 
 lose such a man," she said ; " with us his passing 
 will ever be fresh, the wound ever deep." 
 
 " Mrs. Merrall has had many sorrows to bear 
 since I saw her last," Mr. Courtney said. 
 
 "And she has borne them all well," Madame 
 emphasized. " She is a woman who has been un- 
 justly and unmercifully criticised, simply because 
 she chose to live her own life. It is said that in 
 leaving her husband she carried out the impulse of 
 a moment, but it was not so. She had been un- 
 happy all her married life. She was very young 
 when she married Mr. Merrall, and youth makes 
 many blunders. She looks at life differently after 
 she has had a little experience. Wealth in her 
 eyes can give everything, but it does not always 
 include happiness." 
 
 Consuelo had left them now, for it was her bed- 
 time, and Mr. Courtney, who had accompanied her 
 as far as the door, returned now and stood near 
 Madame's chair. He said something about 
 Edythe ; something about his work, which was 
 nothing to him in comparison with his love for her. 
 It may have been that Madame did not understand 
 why he gave up his work and went away. But it
 
 334 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 was no matter, he thought, he would tell her now, 
 and he did. His voice thickened a little as he 
 spoke, but the great love that he felt for Edythe 
 was in his eyes. 
 
 " And I am going back to her," he said at last 
 when Madame did not speak ; " I will go to- 
 morrow." 
 
 She looked up and met the candour in his eyes. 
 " She will think of your work," Madame said 
 quietly, "otherwise I would say to you to go." 
 
 "My work," Mr. Courtney said slowly, "my 
 work can still go on. I have not taken the vows 
 of celibacy, nor does the church demand it." His 
 voice had a strong ring in it as he spoke. He 
 thought Madame said something about Edythe's 
 own career, her divorce from her husband, all 
 this she would feel would come between them. 
 
 "We must consider the world sometimes," Ma- 
 dame said, " even at the sacrifice of our own happi- 
 ness and inclinations. Though we battle against it, 
 we are often forced to yield to her demands. 
 Edythe thinks of all this," she continued, " for 
 your sake, not for her own." 
 
 " It is not the world, it is how the church will 
 regard it," Mr. Courtney said. " She feels, per- 
 haps, that it would not countenance our marriage,
 
 A MEETING AND A PARTING 335 
 
 but it would. I have thought this all over many, 
 many times. I have always known that Edythe 
 was thinking of my mission when she let me go 
 away from her. She will think differently of it 
 now, for she is free." 
 
 " But if the church does not countenance it ? " 
 queried Madame Marie. 
 
 " Then I will leave the ministry," he said decid- 
 edly. " I can do good work for the church as a 
 layman, even if I am not in the ranks of the clergy. 
 We cannot always be making sacrifices of ourselves 
 God does not demand it of us," he said. 
 
 " Nor wish it," said Madame. " In my heart I 
 am glad you are going back to her. She loves you, 
 and you will make her happy. She is a lovely 
 woman, and has been a much misjudged one." 
 
 He was going now, and he took the hand she 
 held out to him and kept it for a moment in a 
 strong, gentle clasp. 
 
 " I wish I could tell you how much happiness 
 you have given me," he said slowly. " It seems 
 like a dream to think of going home to Edythe." 
 
 Madame smiled radiantly upon him. "And 
 may the future be a long dream of happiness for 
 you both," she answered, as they parted good 
 night.
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 
 IN SIGHT OF SHORE 
 
 " Through the sunset of Hope." SHELLEY. 
 
 MR. COURTNEY rose early and went out on deck. 
 They had been six days at sea, and he hoped he 
 should see New York harbour in the distance, and 
 he was disappointed. Sea and sky only were in 
 view. It was a beautiful morning, a solace after a 
 stormy week at sea. But the storm and the wind 
 had not troubled him, nor the anger of the waves 
 annoyed him, for he was going home. His heart 
 was so buoyed up by the thought of it that he 
 could find no place for aught but joy. The beauti- 
 ful long springtime of the future ! How the fates 
 play for us when we least know it ; how we drift 
 through the shadows and come upon the sunlight 
 unawares ! 
 
 Before another day had dawned he would have 
 seen Edythe. He could picture her surprise when 
 she saw him. Perhaps it would have been better 
 to have sent her word the day he sailed, he thought, 
 
 336
 
 IN SIGHT OF SHORE 337 
 
 but then Madame Marie had advised him not to, and 
 he had taken her advice. As it was, the suspense 
 and the impatience of the week had only been his 
 to bear. She would know nothing of his coming 
 until he greeted her. As he thought of seeing her 
 he could hardly wait. He rose and paced up and 
 down the long deck. It seemed to him as the 
 time approached to see her that the last day of all 
 dragged along with leaden feet. After all, life 
 had been nothing to him since he had been away 
 from her. She alone made up his world, filled his 
 every thought, made the future worth striving for. 
 As he stood there leaning against the railing the 
 memory of that dream when she was his stole in 
 upon his thoughts. His eyes had a strangely 
 tender gleam as he recalled it that forecast of 
 the future. He had so much to tell her when he 
 saw her he could not wait ; but then the thought 
 came to him, it was not for a brief hour or day, 
 for he would have her always. And yet could the 
 future hold any reparation for the long parting ? 
 " God made us for each other," he said over and 
 over again. " We have drifted our separate ways ; 
 yet the bond of love was drawing us closer to each 
 other day by day, hour by hour. Unconsciously, 
 each step has been to this one end. We may
 
 338 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 strive against destiny, but her laws are above the 
 human will." 
 
 He thought of the day he parted from her : how 
 he had given her up because she herself had 
 willed it ; how he had gone away to forget her. 
 He hardly knew now how he had ever found 
 strength to do it. But thank God, it was over now. 
 He was now almost on the threshold of the Eden 
 he had so often pictured, and then put away be- 
 cause he dared not hope it could be for him. In 
 the heart lies the Eden that we seek elsewhere, 
 where when the day is past and night comes to us 
 we may go for comfort, and seeking find it. It was 
 good to think of Edythe and to feel that he should 
 soon be with her. He thought of the sorrows that 
 had come to her since he had been away, and they 
 troubled him still with all the potency of fresh 
 grief. In the days to come there would be only 
 the one thought that of making her future the 
 happier because of the unhappiness of the past. 
 They would begin life anew together together. 
 He thought of the home awaiting them some- 
 where, away from the ceaseless bustling of the city, 
 where they could find peace because they would be 
 where nature was, and nature is all peace. And 
 he pictured the garden they would have, the roses,
 
 IN SIGHT OF SHORE 339 
 
 the honeysuckles, and the old-fashioned lilacs, 
 and as he -thought of it he found his mind going 
 back to the old Massachusetts homestead, the 
 home of his childhood and boyhood. Strange 
 that that picture should have come back to him 
 after all those years he had been away from it. 
 After all, his life since had never been as happy as 
 the days he had lived there. He could recall how 
 beautiful the maple trees were when the spring 
 opened, and the crimson and gold of their leaves 
 when the fall came. He found himself thinking 
 once again of the great oak tree that guarded the 
 windows of his room like the kind arms of an old 
 friend, for such they were. In all these years he 
 had not thought of it before. He recalled now its 
 wonderful russet colouring in the autumn when it 
 shaded almost to purple in the sunset. Strange 
 that going home to Edythe should take him back 
 once more to that old New England home. 
 
 But then the house of dreams is rich in its 
 possessions, for it holds all the dead days and 
 dead hopes we have ever known, and the key 
 to it is the key of remembrance, and over its 
 threshold are the buried treasures of the heart. 
 Though the past may hold its sorrows, inter- 
 mingled with its joys, there is a peculiar sweet-
 
 340 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 ness hallows it when we recall it, perhaps because 
 we remember it can never come again. The dear, 
 dead, happy days of the past. Their magical 
 sweetness comes back to us with potent fragrance 
 when the mind awakens them from their long 
 sleep in the years when we parted "auf wieder- 
 sehen." 
 
 As Mr. Courtney recalled the old home, he 
 wandered in his mind's eye down the box-bordered 
 path to where the arch of vines and wistaria met 
 over it, like a curtain of nature disclosing more 
 beauty beyond. And the summer-house, where 
 the sweet peas grew in such abundance about it. 
 As he traced the path farther on, past the wis- 
 taria arch, he came to it. It was a paradise for 
 birds in the springtime this garden of his youth. 
 It seemed to him like an age since he had wan- 
 dered there, and yet the years that had come 
 between were comparatively few. It was autumn 
 when he was there last and it was late autumn 
 now. He could see again as if but yesterday 
 his grandmother, the only homemaker he had 
 ever known, being carried out across the threshold, 
 never to return again. She had waited for him 
 there so often in the shade of the vine-covered 
 piazza. There was always a faint perfume of
 
 IN SIGHT OF SHORE 341 
 
 lavender about her, and as she came again across 
 the misty borderland of the past to linger for a 
 moment on the threshold of the present, he could 
 still scent the perfume of the lavender flower. 
 
 But why was he wandering into the groves 
 and among the trees of the old home ? Was it 
 some fancy of the brain, some trick of the imagi- 
 nation that only the past seemed real and the 
 present appeared far away ? The angel of mem- 
 ory seemed tenderly reminiscent this day of all 
 days when his heart held but one thought, one 
 interest, that of reaching home, and Edythe. 
 But what if the veiled future should take him 
 back to the old Massachusetts homestead ? only 
 he would have Edythe with him then. 
 
 And Mr. Courtney was as happy as a boy all 
 that day. His high spirits seemed infectious ; 
 his light-heartedness communicated itself to every 
 one about him. He was going home to Edythe. 
 What a happy world it was, his heart was sing- 
 ing within him, what a world of love, of beauty, 
 and enchantment! He wondered what Dr. Mc- 
 Ilvaine thought when he received his cablegram 
 that he was leaving for home. But he was 
 ready now to resign from the ministry, should 
 the bishop deem it best. And yet as he thought
 
 342 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 of it he could not feel that his work was to be 
 given up. He had taken up Christ's yoke be- 
 cause of his love for Him, and Edythe would help 
 him carry his glorious work on. 
 
 *******# 
 
 It was ten o'clock in the evening; the Lu- 
 cania was lying outside of New York harbour. 
 She had been sighted and welcomed, but she had 
 come too late to make port that night. From her 
 decks came the music of "America." Mr. Court- 
 ney was out on deck, and he was disappointed 
 and heartsick. In sight of home, and yet not 
 there. Everything in the harbour about him 
 was hushed and quiet; there was no sound save 
 that which came from the great city beyond. 
 The band had ceased playing. It seemed to Mr. 
 Courtney as he leaned there against the railing, 
 waiting and watching for what he knew not, that 
 he was the only one of the passengers disap- 
 pointed because the ship had been too late to 
 reach her dock. Every one else on board the 
 steamer seemed happy and apparently satisfied 
 but himself. 
 
 But the monotony of the scene was broken. 
 There was a small boat making her way through 
 the dusk in the harbour. As she came nearer
 
 IN SIGHT OF SHORE 343 
 
 it was seen that it was a small yacht, and she 
 was heading for the ocean liner. "She brings 
 news for some one," was the general impression 
 on board as she came alongside and dropped 
 anchor. Those who were out on deck were 
 interested in the news the yacht brought. It 
 was Mr. Courtney who was wanted. Some one 
 whispered it was a matter of life and death, 
 but no one knew.
 
 CHAPTER XLII 
 UNTIL DEATH 
 
 "Our lives, like ships at sea, an instant meet, 
 Then part forever on their courses fleet." 
 
 STEDMAN. 
 
 "TELL Mr. Lowell that the curtain may be 
 rung up, for I am ready." Edythe made an 
 effort to raise herself up on the pillows, but 
 sank back before any one could reach her. " You 
 will tell him, Dorothy," she said. 
 
 " Yes, Edythe, he already knows." 
 
 "That I am better?" 
 
 Dorothy sat down on the side of the bed and 
 took Edythe's hand. "You didn't know, Edythe," 
 she said, "that we had brought you home, and 
 that the last act must go on without you ; " then, 
 glancing up, she added, " But it is midnight now, 
 and even the last curtain has fallen." 
 
 Edythe made another effort to raise herself, 
 and the physician who was standing near went 
 forward and lifted her up on the pillows. Per- 
 
 344
 
 UNTIL DEATH 345 
 
 haps the dying woman, for such she was, saw 
 in the physician's face the trouble that was in 
 his heart, for she said, "This, doctor, I suppose, 
 is the end " 
 
 He did not answer; perhaps his voice failed 
 him. 
 
 " The end," she repeated. " How little I knew 
 it was here when I awoke this morning ; how 
 little any of us know." 
 
 Dorothy went out of the room, but the physi- 
 cian remained beside her. 
 
 "You must not give up hope," he said, "for 
 the weakness will pass." 
 
 " All things will pass," Edythe answered ; 
 "even death will pass." 
 
 " But you are better," the physician reassured 
 her. " We had little hope when you were taken 
 ill, but now there is every reason to hope." 
 
 " Tell me how it was," she asked. " Had 
 I left the stage? I remember very little of 
 the last act I played very little," she said 
 again. 
 
 "You had gone to your dressing-room," the 
 doctor replied ; " but we will not talk of that 
 to-night. To-morrow " 
 
 "To-morrow will be too late for me to care,"
 
 346 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 Edythe said, and although she spoke slowly, it 
 was bravely. A slight flush had risen to her 
 cheeks, and it relieved the deathlike pallor a 
 little. Dorothy returned at that moment, and 
 the physician rose to leave the room. 
 
 " He tells me there is hope," she said when 
 he had gone, " but I know there is none none 
 whatever," she repeated slowly. 
 
 " Sit down here, Dorothy, and while I am able 
 to speak let me tell you something." She glanced 
 up, for the door had opened, and a clergyman 
 had entered the room. Dorothy rose to meet him. 
 It was the Rev. Dr. Mcllvaine. He came forward 
 with a little hesitation, as if he feared he was 
 an intruder, but then when he saw the smile on 
 Edythe's face he went forward and knelt beside 
 her. 
 
 " You were good to come here," she said. " I 
 have had such a different life from other people 
 that I never expected to die as others do." 
 
 "It has been a brave fight," Dr. Mcllvaine 
 said. " I never realized until I was called to your 
 side now what a fight yours has been, and what 
 a victory over the enemies of God." 
 
 "Then you knew of it all?" Edythe said. 
 
 "And I am proud ever to have known you,"
 
 UNTIL DEATH 347 
 
 Dr. Mcllvaine replied. His voice trembled. " We 
 do not understand our fellow-men," he said, "as 
 we should. We do not realize the worth of the 
 soldier fighting beside us until we are left to face 
 the enemy alone. God knows I never realized 
 what a woman you were until now when I can 
 only come as one of Christ's poorest soldiers 
 and beg the forgiveness of one of his standard- 
 bearers." He took her hand in his and pressed 
 it to his lips. " Child of God, you are going 
 into His presence. Intercede for one whose 
 strength and courage are failing." 
 
 There was a smile of forgiveness on her face, 
 but she did not answer him ; perhaps death's 
 voice silenced the living one. Her eyes were 
 still wide open, and the look in them was that 
 of peace. He rose from his knees and began 
 the service for the dying, and he watched her 
 as he read, hoping, trusting that she heard, but 
 this he never knew. He was still reading when 
 Edythe turned, and rinding Dorothy beside her 
 made an effort to speak to her. Dr. Mcllvaine 
 ceased reading. 
 
 " My children," she whispered, "what the world 
 robbed me of, death is restoring." 
 
 There was a long pause. For a moment it
 
 348 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 looked as if consciousness was coming back 
 before the end came. Dorothy's voice was too 
 broken to speak, but Dr. Mcllvaine knelt down 
 and spoke to her. What he told her, or what 
 he asked her, we do not know. That she heard 
 his words and understood their meaning, we con- 
 jecture, for there was a smile of triumph on her 
 face when he had finished, a look of triumph 
 such as only those who have loved and suffered 
 may understand. 
 
 " Keep up courage," he faltered, " don't give 
 up hope." Dr. Mcllvaine's eyes were glistening, 
 but he held her hands firmly. Edythe smiled, 
 but made him no reply. 
 
 "He will surely reach here," came the reas- 
 surance. 
 
 Edythe raised her eyes to his, and he could 
 read the words that were in her heart, "He may 
 not know." 
 
 " But when he does, he will surely come," he 
 said again. 
 
 " When he does," she repeated after him, slowly 
 and quietly. " Yes, when he does," she whispered 
 once again. 
 
 Dorothy had given way to her tears and had 
 left the room. Dr. Mcllvaine thought she
 
 UNTIL DEATH 349 
 
 noticed it, for her eyes seemed to follow her for 
 the moment as if perhaps she did not understand 
 her sorrow. She murmured something that he 
 did not hear. He bent his head closer, but she 
 did not repeat it. 
 
 " It seems a long time waiting," Dr. Mcllvaine 
 said tenderly, "but he will come." 
 
 As he spoke, he noticed she glanced up quickly. 
 A look of triumph and strength for the moment 
 came into her face. Dr. Mcllvaine turned and 
 saw Mr. Courtney standing in the doorway. 
 "Thank God, she lives," he heard him say. 
 The next moment he was at Edythe's side. 
 
 "You did come at last," she whispered, when 
 he did not speak. He tried to answer her, but 
 his voice failed him. Dr. Mcllvaine had passed 
 from the room, and though they were alone, the 
 words that were uppermost in his heart would 
 not come. He lifted her up in his strong arms 
 and kissed her, but he saw that her eyes no 
 longer could look into his. She raised her hand 
 and laid it on his face. 
 
 " I am here," he said softly, as he drew her 
 closer, " still here. Don't you know me ? " He 
 looked into her face and saw that death was 
 there. He spoke her name, and although she
 
 350 THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 was dying, she knew the voice and made a last 
 effort to speak to him. 
 
 " God never intended us for each other," she 
 said, then the voice failed her. 
 
 What Rodgers Courtney said to her, the 
 living heard and understood, and now the dead 
 holds sacred 
 
 When Dr. Mcllvaine returned to the room a 
 few moments later, Mr. Courtney was still kneel- 
 ing by the bedside, holding Edythe in his arms, 
 as if he could not give her up. 
 
 There was a look of peace upon the face of 
 the dead woman, as if she had died, happy that 
 the separations and the sacrifices of this world 
 are only until death. 
 
 THE END
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS 
 
 Upon the Previous Work of 
 
 MARGUERITE LINTON GLENTWORTH
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS 
 
 London Times : 
 
 " Miss Glentworth's work is as clean cut as a rare old cameo." 
 
 N.Y. Mail and Express : 
 
 " Her writings show strength and a style that is prominent 
 for originality and charm." 
 
 N.Y. Times: 
 
 " The ' Twentieth Century Boy ' is undeniably clever. It is 
 worthy of serious study." 
 
 Booklover's Weekly: 
 
 " It is bright, fresh, and juicy with wholesome jollity." 
 
 Boston Transcript : 
 
 " Miss Glentworth's work has staying power. ' A Twentieth 
 Century Boy ' is a capital story." 
 
 Boston Home Journal : 
 
 " Her work is most readable and fascinating. ' A Twentieth 
 Century Boy ' is decidedly one of the new fiction hits." 
 
 Brooklyn Eagle : 
 
 " Its literary quality is superior." 
 
 New Orleans Picayune : 
 
 " Old people and young will enjoy this book ; it is delightfully 
 human." 
 
 North American, Philadelphia : 
 " A most delightful creation." 
 
 N.Y. Journal and American : 
 
 "Thoroughly fascinating and enjoyable." 
 
 2
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS 
 
 N.Y. Commercial Advertiser: 
 
 " Her work is of a high order; the style is new and refreshing." 
 
 The Dial: 
 
 " It is one of the best of the season's books." 
 
 San Francisco Call : 
 
 " Miss Glentworth has won the esteem of the reading public." 
 
 Hartford Times : 
 
 " Miss Glentworth has the making of a powerful writer." 
 
 The Outlook: 
 
 " Her work has fine literary flavor." 
 
 The Living Church : 
 
 " Miss Glentworth's style and humor is not unlike Oliver 
 Wendell Holmes's." 
 
 The Churchman : 
 
 " It is a book that is worthy to be enjoyed and remembered." 
 
 Chicago Journal : 
 
 " Miss Glentworth has a keen sense of humor ; her book is 
 exceedingly readable." 
 
 St. Louis Globe-Democrat : 
 " It is wonderfully clever." 
 
 Newark (N.J.) News: 
 
 " Miss Glentworth's vein of humor is uncommon. The ' Twen- 
 tieth Century Boy ' is worthy of its success." 
 
 Omaha Bee : 
 
 " Its fun is irresistible." 
 
 New England Magazine : 
 " A captivating story." 
 
 Christian Endeavor World : 
 
 " It can well be called ' the most entertaining book of the 
 year.' " 
 
 3
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS 
 
 New York Press : 
 
 " It is a fascinating and original novel." 
 
 Rochester Post-Express : 
 
 " It will be read and enjoyed wherever the small boy is 
 appreciated." 
 
 Boston Gazette: 
 
 " It is thoroughly amusing, and, moreover, true to life." 
 
 Albany Times-Union : 
 
 " The author has a special talent for depicting the modern 
 American boy." 
 
 Newark (NJ.) Daily Advertiser: 
 
 " There is plenty of action, and the author has handled her 
 theme admirably." 
 
 Boston Beacon : 
 
 " It is depicted with a subtlety of insight and keenness of 
 humor that will delight readers young and old." 
 
 Newark (NJ.) Sunday Call: 
 
 " The book is amusing and clever." 
 
 Chicago News : 
 
 " It is a new work of fiction for the lover of boys." 
 
 A Twentieth Century Boy 
 
 By MARGUERITE LINTON GLENTWORTH ("Gladys Dudley 
 Hamilton"). I2mo. Cloth. Illustrated by CHARLES COPE- 
 LAND. Price, $1.25. 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD, Publishers 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 4
 
 V