FOUND OUT.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXIX, Issue 10765, 13 May 1911, Page 1 (Supplement)

FOUND OUT.

(By ltobcrt Merrick.;

Tho Saybrook Hunt met in a little «i;ik copse behind l)eimet*s barn. The hounds were smiling ami yelping aboutilie dead leaver, eager to be oil. The dozen or more men and women who were going to follow tho hounds this tine Octobor afternoon had already arrived and were preparing to mount their hunters, which tho grooms held ready for them. Tho plump master of the "hunt, conspicuous in his scarlet mat, was about to give the signal to the keepers when he canght sight of a larj:e motor car plunging madly over tho rough dirt road. "That must be Stanberry!" he exclaimed. "Do you suppose he means to There was no reply. All turned and looked at the onrushing ear silently, as if every one was consciously refraining irom uttering the comment that was in .ill minds. A young woman bent her head to pat her nervous black maro on the neck and slowly edged out of the nuip. She knew what they were all "(linking—what, in fact, she had overheard one of the men say when they >tartcd for the meet —"Well, Stanny is found out!*' There's his man over there with the !,ig roan," some one remarked at last. He must be going to hunt." ■Then." the kindly master observed r,•l.ictantly, "'1 suppose we ought to wail, for him." / No one ventured to say that it would he Uvs awkward if they should get away lief ore the hero of the "collar box" -.audal joined the party; so in complete Mleiwe they held their horses in check :,nd watched tho rapidly advancing car. Are you going to try Black Kate I .main. Miss Sanfordi-" the master inquired, riding up to the slim girl on the Mark mare. "Aren't you taking a jirettv big risk?" The girl_looked defiantly at him out ~r her tiou eyes.

••Perhaps," she said shortly. Behind them a low laugh broke out at .-■>•:.e whispered gibe. The girl's face .-nddenly flushed, as if again she heard :!...-»• words, "Found out." The master, who must have known the local _ ;i i.--ip about Alfred Stanberry and Edith S:!iifurtl. moved closer, saying: Do you think you had better try it. r-ally?" You know there are some bad i'imps on this run." i know," she replied, with tight lips.

The car came panting to a stop in ■ lit of them and a red-faced man

pimped out, hastily throwing off his fur i''ut. Behind him came a heavy, mid-iil>--aged man in a gray business suit, ;•':>: disappeared among the grooms and :!>• spectators without arousing atten-

Hello, everybody!" Stanberry called ..•;; effusively. As he caught sight of ;!■..• slim girl beside the master he raised Lis hat. but at the moment her mare shied and her bent eyes escaped the -[-. -cring. •Tlave I kept you waiting? Too bad ! A breakdown just outside the city," he said, bustling toward his horse. The men —some of them —called back, ■■Hello. Alfred!" and the gentle master ;v,'.v the cue in his courteous reply: We were only just ready, Stanberry." The big roan danced in a circle about i:is master, and Stanberry experiencedMine difficulty in mounting. Finally i..' pulled himself into the saddle and moved off after the others, very red in the face. The groom, with a critical hmk at the unsteady seat, winked to a friend. The man who had conic there with Stanberry leaned over the fence :md watched the hunters, a little smile i-n his stolid face. He, also, had noticed i the loose seat and understood. Presently he turned away, as if not much interested in the sport of a drag hunt, wv<\ rlambered into the motor. The hounds were streaming silently -.r-ross the broad green field and after ■hem galloped the men and women, huddled together at first, then gradually falling apart ns they neared the first i'lmp at the bottom of the field. The -!i:i girl on the black mare was riding vrell to the fore, near the red-coated ir.n.-ter. She cleared the fence easily. Behind her there was some confusion. Hid n hen the riders emerged on the hill r. vend the field was clearer—the dogs running wide ahead, the hunters .-"earning out far behind. The black - ire drew off to one side where she -i j:i f< I have the field to herself, and for the first time the girl raised her head \?A drew her breath deeply as if feeling :ha exhilarating freedom of the fast :••-.-•. Over the second fence the two kl'.ed without pause. The black mare -;s settling into her stride. Then, as :i ;-y copped a little hill, she heard the ■■.!"" red breathing of a horse just behind !:-r that was striving to keep Black Kate's rapid pace. In the hollow ahead .<:.-■ could see the top of a thick hedge • • • i which she must go, clean and free, :•' .-!;<• were to escape! Nervously she ■::.:• d or pulled the mare; Black Kate vvrrved. refused the jump. As he -netled, the girl met Stanberry's blood•h"t eyes, heard his voice, low and

pantmir ■Won't you speak to mc?" Her dark eyes flashed at him as she ".se frir the hedge. Without a backward fiance she raced on. conscions of pursuit, her heart throbbing with a jtn.rme eagerness. The roan came pumding on behind: she seemed to feel the animal's hot breath on her check. Am.:(ier fence —and another! Black Kate took them like a bird, as if filled with her mistress' desire for flight; but tie man struggled always just behind. Fr..hi her averted eyes she could see the man's face, now white and set like her

•>Tf 11. It was her fate, from which she could iv >t escape. There, side by side, it s'vttii"!. thev must race until one or ih.r should fall. They were on the jm.fi before she knew —a low hedge and ■'. widV. deep ditch beyond. The mare two swiftlv as ever, cleared the hedge. :h■ i! sunk." pawed at the gravelly hank. MM over. As the girl lay there she <'"iiM .<.><» the roan go over them, land rimi in the sod beyond. If he would • riv ride on and leave her there by her-.v-!f: But Stanberry was pulling vici- '.■::-! v :\t his horse. "Kdith!" As h,> knelt above her she could sec i\:* < k-am of triumph in his bloodshot

"Are vou hurt?" he whispered. ' So— I think not," she said faintly. She lav against the bank and rested !'.'T dizzv head on her arms while he belt there beside her. The hunters n.-.rl pawed on: she could hear the cry • r the hounds in the woods over the !i!i. They two were alone, and she no 1 hat! that mad desire to escape. Tb swift flight and the sudden fall had the impulse away; and as she Jay :V;v with closed eyes she thought 'ir.Mmilv of those other hunts on hazy iir.iimn afternoons like this, when they b,.-i ~,,ine back together throngh the -'■■"•U and the fields, talking of all the r':i:Mt. nothings of the day. She Mv.-il into his hot eyes, so full ot "v!<. and smiled faintly. •■V..:i feel better," he said eagerly. (;.n vou get on my horse?" ! '•><■ 'the mare had scampered oft to fi'iKri !ht nm. ~ , ~ I ! sit here a little while," she said. s " i > sat down beside her. and they •Ik,l ~f those other times and the !< thiugs that had happened when ■ >m r.-Io together. 1'- mv first- this season, he said • it last- "You know why 1

A .-I.rnd settled over her open face. Nl • n -.. slowlv and looked away, across '-'■■■• familiar, gentle landscape. V, ■, must let me explain! ~i Jrl turned her face to him, sud'r! hard, with stony «J«s- „ What is there to explain? Ti,> man's face flushed, but he re-

! .t.adilv: , -Ot vou saw what the papers i i.'-■..at the'hearing: but that is not k!,U-story!" . >:;*• knew onlv too well, not merely

•'■■•■ livid account in the newspapers. v th rl> pirturet of Stanherry. lnsomce. "'«■ final "collar box." the steno--"-irh. rs rnnfession. but what the Savr'"k ..,l,nv were saying and their especially the laughter. Her 'I- u'a-i alf a frame-up," he stam-p-'r.-d. "I mean that woman was i^ht: her storv about me was just a

Sta recalled the thinly veiled insinuate „►- t he attorneys at the hearing. "V-.ii didn't believe that?" he stamped.

T His t«>nse face relaxed somewhat- as ■- muttered: "I was afraid." I 'lidn't mind the woman," she said , '-TV jurv'll acquit me if they ever it to' trial," he went on more "No jury could convict on -*r 67idencel"

Ho stopped to wipe the sweat from is face and looked anxiously at the ;irl. She said, raising her eyes to his ir the first time: '•Was it sol- 1 " •■What:-"

"Did you know what the money was to he used for —that money you put in tinI—the 1 —the collar boxr"

Her lips curled scornfully, as if sho found difficulty with the ridiculous word—emblem of mean, guilt, common bribery! Before her glance the man's face slowly blanched. Sho might read the struggle within him while the moments passed and he did not reply. At last she looked away and then hesaid steadily: "Yes! Of course I knew!"

They began to walk toward the clubhouse which could be seen in the misty distance, nestling among the trees. The big roan followed quietly, looking in puzzled fashion from one to the other. It was a scant mile to the clubhouse; and, as if realising that the opportunity that had cost him so much, was fast slipping from his hands,_ the man urged his case desperately, trying to make her understand that strange man's world where he had fought successfully, where he had been caught in a false move, necessitated by circumstances, and haled before the world as a culprit—he alone! The girl, gazing far away across the misty autumn fields, listened —an impenetrable aloofness about her through which lus eager words could not cut.

"In business there are certain things that must be done—or you go tinder. Every man understands that!" His hand pointed to the horizon where in the woods appeared the houses of the Saybrook colony. Just below them on the right was the Reddick house, an immenso affair, now shuttered and closed. Peter Reddick had been president of a great bank in the city and he had done something—she did not know just what—and he bad been found out too. His_ friends said that it was only a technical crime—common, enough; but he would have had to go to prison if his wife's father had not stepped in and settled with his angry enemies. She could not understand the thing. Elsa Reddick was a stupid, kindlv woman, very fond of her country place"and her children. The family had gone away somewhere, out of sight, and their house was for sale. Men did those things, it seemed. "The newspaper racket means nothing," ho explained. "Those fellows have* to feed the public with scandal. In a few weeks everybody will have forgotten the thing," he said. He was not "down and out" —far from it! He was too valuable a servant to his masters, so he hinted. They understoodthe big ones behind him. They, too, had their troubles with the law. Think of all the men in this one community who had been under indictment first "and l asfc! ~ - r_ She recalled the squib in the funny column of the newspaper, when Saybrook had been referred to as "our fashionable penal settlement." Over the hill could be seen the tall red chimneys of Fairlawn, old Stevens Durlop s place. He had been indicted two or three times for something to do with coal. The Durlops had had to spend a season out of the country on account of it. When he finally could come home the inen had given him a great dinner at the club —a very amusing affair, so they seemed to think. Some of them masqueraded as officers of the court and a sheriff had come in with a warrant. They had an asbestos record made that couldn't be burned up when the makebelieve lawyers threw it into the fire; and a clever voung artist who happened to be there decorated the men's broad shirtfronts with black bars and their dress coats with red stripes. The dinner had been an immense success I Certainly these prominent citizens did not take their legal troubles seriously—whether they came from coal or oil or meat or steel. Even her father had been indicted once, she remembered, in a raUroad matter. He had explained to her philosophically at the time why so many of their nice neighbors got into trouble with the law these days; they werc accused of what he called 'imaginary crimes." The thing that had overtaken btanberrv did not seem to her simple woman's mind one of these gentlemanly imaginary crimes. Perhaps it was that fatal bos that made all the difference. \s if he were following close on her thought, the man urged: "Your father will understand the matter. Ask him!" „+i,,- nrr "My father never did anything wrong!" she retorted. A. smile relaxed his tight lips. "Your fatbei "he began; and then he shut his mouth upon the words. "My father?" she said quickly. "No," he replied gently; "your father never used a collar-box!" ~ Thev walked on for a time without speaking, the big roau following submissively. As they neared the club stables Stanberry stopped. . "So it's the end?'' he asked in a low voice.

She nodded. "There is no hone for me —none at all 5 " She bene her head again : and he understood that she had tried his case and entered judgment—and there was """It Wasn't that woman's talk about »> She shook her head vigorously.' "And it wasn't altogether because J did'something irregular?" She was silent. "It's because I was found out! lie exclaimed bitterly., his eyes sweeping the pleasant horizon, where dwelt, m their comfortable houses those others who had been more astute, luckier than he.

■Yes you were found out!" the girl said pitilessly, with all the hardness of youth. Found out, she seemed to add, bribing a common "rafter with a few thousand dollars tucked into a collarbox ! The laughter about it stung ner. "I took mv chances, like many another," he muttered after a time, "to "•ct what I wanted —to get you! ° She looked at him haughtily. " \nd it might have been —you might uave » Her eyes flashed and she said between Ler teeth: . "You have no right to say what nngnt have been!" . ~,,., "That's so," ho replied humblj. 111 leave vou here. Good-bye." He "led the nig roan towards the stables, while the girl made ler way alone across the open field to the clubhouse. As she stepped upon the veranda a chorus of sympathetic exclamations greeted her. "Yes, I was thrown, she said quietly- "that was all."

11. That evening the master was to give liis annual dinner to the members, and aftervards there was to bo dancing. The pleasant dining Toom had been decorated with trophies of tho harvest and the long tables were laden with country cheer, supplemented by champagne. The master in his scarlet coat presided over tho feast, beaming genially up and down tho tables. In the confusion of seating, tue stolid, wearv-looking man who had come to meet in "Staiiberry's tar slipped into the vacant place next Miss Sanford. With a glance at his bald, middle-aged head, the voung woman turned to tho hov on the other side and exchanged with him the reiterated commonplaces of the hunt. After a time she looked over her left shoulder and watched her nei"hbor, who was devoting himself with squared elbows to the serious task of devouring his dinner. He glanced up with a. friendly smile on his broad face. . ~, , > i "Good, ain't it.-'" he remarked. "Yes. I didn't see you on the field this afternoon," she said politely. "Me limit!" The bnldhcaded one relaxed in laughter. "1 carao out with Stnnberrv." he exclaimed, pointing, with- his* knife to where the younger man was seated, near the master. "Oh." the girl replied coldly, "you are a friend of Mr Stanberry?" "Not exactly—that is, I've known him some time, but haven't seen much of him before this—hearing."

"Indeed!" "He ran across me just by accident this morning. He seemed lonelywanted to have someone along to talk to. I gness. So I came out with him.' He smiled sympathetically, as if the girl must understand the situation. Thev both looked at Stanberry, who was* drinking a good deal and talking

noisily. , • , ... "He's likely to do something foolish," the girl murmured into her "On, that!" her neighbor exclaimed

tolerantly. "Yes, it was foolish —or worse, perhaps." The girl shrugged her shoulders. "Why doe.s ho uuuie here, then:-"

''Can't you see he must'' lie must act just as it' nothing had happened. If ho can only make 'cm tnk<; his bluff, then it'll bo"all right!" "And if he can't 1'" she ventured.

"Few pull themselves together when their bluff has been called in a matter of this sort."

Ho spoke with tho authority of a connoisseur of men, yet kindly. "You see, Miss " "Sanford," she supplied. "You ain't Harvey Sanford's girl?" be asked quickly. Sho nodded and laughed at his quaint speech. "I knew your family when they lived in tho city, before your father bought his nlace out here. I used to see you playing out in your yard when you were a little girll" "Really!" Stiffert—that's my name."

He spoke confidently, as is the name must be familiar to everyone. "I was alderman then," he added. Some vague recollection of the politician —stories she had heard—came to the girl, and she looked at the man with fresh interest. He talked on easily, as if she were an old acquaintance. , "You see, it was the collar-box business that really hurt him." Her cheeks flamed at the ridiculous word. She said drily: "Yes; he was found out " "No, not that. Others have been 'found out,' as you say, doing crooked things—maybe some of these prominent citizens about this very table —and it doesn't seem to make any great difference to them." "What do you mean?" "He handled the money—at least that's what everyone believes." The girl's face was puzzled. ] "It's this.way. Miss Sanford.. There's a lot of crookedness in politics and in business, as you have doubtless heard. I've known a good many crooks in my day— a ji kinds —swells and snobs and bums. Those that weren't never found out, even by themselves; those that ( everybodv knew to be crooks, wcll we "won't mention names. And jt doesn't make any difference, if they keep out of prison, whether they arc found out, so long as they can stand up and make their bluff. The ones that • go to pieces, like Stanberry here, are the ones who handled the money—touched the stuff themselves. It seems like it poisoned 'em somehow. A crook i can sit up in his inside office and lay out a deal and take his rake-off _in bonds or stock or what-not; and if he . hasn't had his fingers in the money itself he can pull down his vest and go out the door with a big front to face , the world. I can't see that that telephone ordinance Stanberry got into trouble with has worried any of these gentlemen." Ho nodded generally around the tables, with a placid smile. ' ""Whom do you mean?" the girl dc- i manded sharply. "The directors, the hankers —the ones in the inside office, who planned the 1 job and put it up to the small men like Stanberrv to pull it off for Jem. Ihcy ' are a big sight worse, to my thinking, Miss Sanford, than the tools they useonly they're likely to get off without even being 'found out'; but the tool < who does the work" he glanced significantly up the table—"is likely to get it where he can't ever get over it! That's why I'm sorry for Stanberry. He needs a friend now." „ „ . . , The girl looked thoughtfully, into her plate, as if an entirely new aspect of the world in which she had lived was dawning. • "It's onlv another case of the. first to ; cast a stone," the politician said gently. "I don't think there are many here who have the right." , "Who are those—directors.-" The man looked into the girl s shining eves and then said slowly: "You'd bettor ask your father. Afterwards they fell into silence. The merriment at the other end of the tables, where the younger members had congregated, grew louder and above all tho noise Stanberry's laugh emerged. Somebodv brought in a paper collar box and hand it to him covered with a nankin. There was a burst of laughter at the jest, in which the master, now relaxed with food and wine joined. Stanberry, turning quite white, rose with the thing in his hand and, steading himself with the other hand on the table, turned his bloodshot eyes up and down the room. "Gentlemen," ho said uncertainly — and there came a hush over the merry company—"and ladies! —yes, and ladies!" he repeated, with drunken emphasis. At this point the master whispered to one of the men near Stanberry, and this one tried gently to induce Stanberrv to sit down. He shook his head solemnlv; then, gripping himself, he held out steadilv in his two hands the paper box. -'See that! } ou know what that means? It's the collar box! There was a shiver down the tables and a"ain the man's neighbors tried to argue with him. "No —I'm going to tell 'em something," he said slowly. "I've got something to say they must hear." He waited, swaying slightly until he found his words. "I put the monev in the box," he said, slowly turning the thing over. "I did it—that's a fact. A jury of my peers II let me off, I s'pose. but I did it: and every one of you knows I did it. Why? Because you'd done the same thing if vou'd been where I was." He paused to collect himself once more. "Thought I'd bluff it off—came here with that itjp.,—i o ts of worse men than I, and all that: but it's—no use. I'm found out. Must take my medicine, 'n' all that." There was a painful pause while the man gathered himself for a final effort, meantime clutching the box and swaying slightlv. At last he threw up his head and his miserable eyes rested on the girl's face at the other end of the room" "What I want to say is this," he said in a low voice: "W r hat about the other fellows who aren't found out? What about the men who stack the cards for us little fellows to play? I I don't have to mention names —you know whom I mean —the fellows who run the game: the ones who turn their hacks and wait for us to make good? Won't tliev be found out, too, some dav? Won't they have to get clown to rock-bottom the same as I'll have to? Won't God make them to be seen the same as He's made me? . . There's another thing. See Stiffert over there?" He pointed unsteadily down the table. "Old Pete Stiffert—you know him! They call him a grafter, but you know he isn't —he's straight—a straight politician —and he's the only friend I have in this room. He'd ought to be found out. . . And the one who is hard," he whispered, "who won't understand —she'll be found out, too! ... Before God, we'll all be found out some day! That's the truth." He chucked the paper box on to the table and reeled. For a moment there was not a sign or sound up and down :he tables.

"lie's done for himself this time

sure." the politician murmured to his neighbor. "There's nothing for him now but " He completed his thought with a swift motion of his thumb and forefinger. There was something appealing in the girl's eyes as she asked, with dry lips: "You mean ?" "They'd have stood by him if he'd kept liis mouth shut -and bluffed. They'd have had to! But, after blabbing like that —why, lie as good as cut his own throat." At a signal from the master the dinner broke up and the company gathered in little groups, talking. Then the talk broke out and muttered disgust fell from the men's lips—"Drunken cad!" "Coward!" "He hasn't a friend here," the politician said to the girl," "if he had -" "Well, and if he had?" she demanded. "A real friend—it might make all the difference in the world. . . . Guess I'll take him off before he can make further remarks," he concluded, with a nod. , . A boy came up to claim his dance. "I'm going home," she safd. "Find roe a carriage, please."

m. j Mr Sanford was dozing over the evening paper before the warm wood fire in his library. His slippered feet were daintily crossed and he held in his right hand the thick black cord of his horn glasses. Opening his eyes, lie beheld his daughter standing in the doorway—a small-figure, erect and square on her feet. In her tan riding boots, with the hunting skirt looped back and her

stiff black hat, she had something the look of a little man: and on her white face, about her set lips, was a man's determination.

"Didn't you .stay for tiio dance, Edith?" iio inquired, looking at his daughter with appreciation. "No —1 didn't caro to dance." "Have a good run?" "Kate threw me." "Again! You mustu't ride that mare—l'll sell her!" "I'm going to put her over the jumps to-morrow."

"Better not try. How was the dinner?" •• ' - ■ :■..'..

"The dinner was—unusual." ' "How?" "I sat next a man who said he knew you—us —a Mr Stiffert." "Pete Stiffert!" Mr Sanford exclaimed) with a tone of surprise. "How did he get to the hunt dinner?" "Mr Stanberry brought him." "Stanberry! Was he there?" "Yes." "At the hunt too?"

"Yes." Mr Sanford stroked his moustache thoughtfully. "I came back with him after my fall."

The father glanced quickly at the daughter. "I should think, Edith " "What should you think, father?", the girl demanded quickly. "You know he's been in trouble." "He told me about in this afternoon."

"So he told youl" "He told me the truth," "Oh, he did!" "He did it, you know —that thing with the—the collar —box!" - "He told me about it this afterturiied and faced the daughter. "Why did he tell you that?" "Because he was in love with me." "So he told you that he committed bribery because he was in love with you!" Mr Sanford remarked, with a slightly ironical stress. "Yes."

After a time he said indifferently: ''l see that they let him off." "They were bought, too, I suppose." Mr Sanford elevated his eyebrows. "That seems to be the way things are done —in business," the girl added. "What makes you think so?" "Mr Stiffert -told me "

"Pete Stiffert! The Democratic politician—good authority!" Mr Sanford picked up his paper and glanced at it. "Father!" "Well?"

"Are you one of the —the directors—the men in the telephone company?" "Yes, I am a director." "Did you know about it—know what Mr Stanberry was going to do?" "What makes you say that?" "Because he said something and Mr Stiffert "

'What did they say?" # 'They both said: 'Ask yourfather!' " 'Ah!'"

"And at the dinner —he had beeri drinking—he got up and said things—said he was found out " "So he talked!" "And he said there were others who — knew—and hadn't been found out." "Stanberry seems to have made an exhibition of himself." "Mr Stiffert said the same thing." "So Pete talked too!"

There was a long pause while father and daughter studied each other before the final grapple. "I don't see any good, Edith, in going further into this " She shook her head slowly, as if to notify him that the "dear daughter" tone would no longer answer. "There are things women can't understand about business."

She smiled. It was the formula, she remembered, he had used successfully with her mother.

"I've begun to understand this afternoon." she replied slowly, "a good deal."

"What do you want to know?" "Father, were you one of those who knew —who were not found out?"

He met her glance squarely. ' "I knew in a general way." The girl gave a long sigh. "I -was afraid of it, she murmured. With an effort to recover his manner Mr Sanford said: "You will have to trust me "

She made a weary motion with her hand.

"My child " "Don't call me that! I'm no child. I must know all. Don't you understand why? I—l loved him! Yes, I love him —I might have married him. Don't you see?" The man's eyes fell before the woman who had emerged from the girl. "Yes, I see. I am sorry!" She swept aside his sympathy with another wave of her little hand. "Now I must kill it—my love! I must despise him for what he did!" Then with fatal, wondering clearness of vision: "And despise you, too, because you let him stand between you and the world! He's found out. You might have been there in court with him." "Oh, you exaggerate —you don t understand!" ~,.,, "Yes, I understand! He did it because he had to—did it for you other men. He took the risk for £QU while vou were safe —behind!" The scorn in her voice brought color to the man's face. "Whatever he did for the company

le was paid for." . "Paid! Can you pay men for things

like that?" „, . , ~ Mr Sanford shrugged his shoulders. The girl, stretching up her hands with the riding whip tensely clutched in them, laughed softly; then more loudly. At the sound of her hysterical laughter her father's hands shook and his face twitched. This little creature, flesh of his flesh, whoin a few moments before lie had welcomed joyously, was looking through and through him. He shrank under her fierce eyes. "Found out!" she murmured. "Edith!" His voice was appealing; but she did not heed him. "My father too! —It makes no dirfereiice!—All men are alike it seems. Only some are found out and some hide. Found out! Found out!" As she repeated the words with another burst of bitter laughter she crossed the room and sat down at the writing tabic. Taking off her gloves, she he<'an rapidly to write a note; and as she finished she turned her head, sayin.': "I'm writing Alfred Stanberry to come here to-morrow morning.' "What is that for?" "Because I must see him. "Why?" T , • „ "To tell him I love him." "Edith!" "Why not?" ' "You are mad—a man disgraced! He'll have to leave the crty! "Then I will leave with, him; and where lie goes I go—so far as one must ° "Edith 1" the father said sternly, ""don't be a fpol!" She rose and touched the hell. Waving the note - to and fro she said, with another burst of thin laughter 'And why not a fool, papa, as well as—some other, things?"