A Speckled Bird. Evans Augusta Jane

and his voice shook as with suppressed laughter.

      "A woman's curiosity cost us Eden. My dear little lady, what did you discover in my anonymous letter?"

      "That 'Ely Twiggs' is a terrible menace to your peace of mind."

      "Would you like a translation of that ugly occult phrase? It is merely a telegraphic cipher. You have conjured up a malignant chimera; rest assured it is only a dingy red-paper balloon, with a flickering taper inside. Good night. Pray allow no compunctious qualms to disturb the peace of your Methodist conscience."

      "No church is responsible for errors of its members, and I wish I could believe it possible that your Episcopal conscience will allow you a night of refreshing sleep. For my dear child's sake, I hoped you would confide in me, and I regret that you withhold the truth. Good night, sir."

      "Little foster-mother, remember your promise."

      He held out his hand, but she declined the overture and walked away.

      "My Methodist promise will bear any weight laid on it."

      Without premonition, a sudden storm had swept over the city that night, and at two o'clock, when Eglah and Mr. Herriott went down the steps to enter their carriage, the stone pavement held tiny pools and rills of water.

      "Wait, Eglah, your slippers will be soaked."

      "I can run across on tiptoe."

      "You shall not! Permit me."

      He stooped, lifted her from the lower step, and placed her on the cushioned seat.

      "How strong you are!" she said, laughing, as he entered the carriage and sat down opposite, not beside her.

      "Physically – yes. If my force of will equalled my nerves and muscles, I should be a much happier man."

      "Infirmity of will? You, – the most obstinate man I ever met! How little you know yourself!"

      "You are so sure you read me aright, perhaps you understand why all the strength of my manhood has not saved me from staking my earthly hopes on a venture that may be fatal. Can you explain?"

      "Is it some scientific scheme? Some theory that may prove a delusion?"

      "It is simply the possibility that the woman I love will not give me her heart. Eglah, I have been patient. I wished you to see and know other men – to form your own ideal, to compare me with some more brilliant and attractive – before I asked for your love. Since the day I first saw you – a grieved child – at Nutwood, my heart has been entirely yours, and all my future is gilded with the hope of a home in which you will reign as my wife. I bring you the one unshared love of my life. May I have the blessed assurance that you will accept it?"

      For some seconds Eglah neither moved nor spoke; then she slipped down on her knees and laid her head on his hands, that were folded together.

      "Mr. Noel – dear Mr. Noel – I will never marry. Only one man in all the world is necessary to my happiness, and he is my father. What you tell me now is a surprise – a painful surprise to me – because I never thought of you as of some who flattered and even some who have asked my hand. You were always my best friend, my wise, sympathetic companion, and I never could think of you as desiring or needing any woman's affection. You have seemed unlike other men I meet in society, and I believed you cared most for books and scientific experiments, though I thought you always felt a very kind, friendly, brotherly interest in me. Oh, I am so sorry you have uttered such words to-night! You must know I am not like other women in our circle, and I have no intention of marrying. If I should select any man to love it might be you, because I respect and trust you so profoundly; but that could never happen to me. What have I inadvertently done to make you misjudge my feelings? You must forgive me. I never suspected."

      As she pressed her face against his hands he felt her lips trembling, and his struggle for self-control was short and fierce. After a moment, he raised and replaced her on the seat and sat beside her.

      "I can reproach only myself for a delusion that costs me more than you will ever know. In my loneliness the dream was so beautiful. I could not resist its fascination. Dear little girl, you are the only one I ever wished or asked to be my wife, and because you are so precious to me I will not surrender my hope, unless you force me. Remember the long years I have waited for you. In time, perhaps, you might learn to care for me. May I entreat you to try?"

      "Mr. Noel, I trust you, I admire you – in a way I feel attached to you – but I must tell you the truth. I shall marry no one, not even you."

      "Then I shall never repeat my folly. Be sure I will vex you no more; but there is something you can do to lessen my pain. If trouble or disaster or sorrow overtake you, will you promise to confide in me, to allow me to share it, as if I were indeed that elder brother you have tried to believe me?"

      "Yes, Mr. Noel. After father I will always turn next to you, and you must not condemn me because, unintentionally, I have been so unfortunate as to hurt you."

      "For several reasons I wish your father to know at once all that has been said to-night. He is aware of my intentions, and kind enough to approve them. One final request I trust you will not refuse me. The visit to my house on the Lake has been definitely arranged, and I particularly desire that no change of plan should be made. Henceforth no word of mine will ever recall this interview, and during your stay under my roof I assure you no allusion to my dead hopes shall annoy you. Trust me, and come."

      The carriage stopped at Senator Kent's door. As Mr. Herriott led her up the steps, she noticed he barely touched her arm, and when he rang the bell she caught his hand between both of hers.

      "Dear Mr. Noel – you do forgive me?"

      A neighboring lamp shone full on his handsome face, pale and set, and a sudden consciousness of the unusual charm of his noble personality thrilled her. Withdrawing his hand, he held it behind him, and, as he looked down at her, his lips twitched.

      "You have done me no wrong by simply following the true, womanly dictates of your pure heart. Marriage without genuine love is a degradation to which you could never stoop. I will love you always, always; but I find it hard to forgive myself for making utter shipwreck of a man's dearest aim in life. Good night."

      As Mrs. Mitchell opened the door, he turned away and went swiftly into the street.

      "Eglah! What is the matter? You are crying."

      "How can I help it when I have hurt the noblest man in all the world – except father? My one true friend, who never failed to be good to me!"

      "You have refused to marry Mr. Herriott? My baby, you will never find his equal. Your father can scarcely forgive this defeat of his pet scheme, dating from the time you were ten years old."

      CHAPTER IX

      "Herriott, I owe you an apology for coming so late, but feel quite sure you will pardon a delay that was unavoidable. I have kept your dinner waiting half an hour."

      "No matter, provided you bring an appetite that can defy overdone fish. I am glad it is only delay, and not total failure. Vernon, you look so spent, may I venture to offer your reverence a tonic – club-labelled 'cocktail'? It is the best antidote I dare suggest for the slow method of suicide you have adopted."

      "Thank you – no."

      "Then come in to dinner."

      "I wasted the whole afternoon trying to find a boy down on the East Side, but when at last I reached the house I was told he had moved from that neighborhood. He is a soloist at St. Hyacinth's, and I had promised him a booklet."

      "Leighton Dane?"

      "Yes. What do you know of him?"

      "That he will sing no more at St. Hyacinth's. Henceforth his solos belong to choirs beyond the stars. The boy is slowly dying of consumption."

      "When did you see him?"

      "A few days ago. He is at No. 980 – Street, Brooklyn. Your cousin Eglah asked me to keep an eye on him. Poor little lad! His battle with pain and loneliness is pathetic, and I rather think the end is not far off."

      "Loneliness? Who takes care of him?"

      "His