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ing quite merry like, I had the feeling Miss Dorton said he must n't because, if more than once that people were mean- he did, it would be a victory for the enedering about outside. I had just finished mies of humanity. Mr. Parable said clearing away, and cook was making the something about "humanity" which I did coffee, when there came a knock at the n't rightly hear; but, whatever it was, it door.

started Miss Dorton crying, and Miss “Who 's that?” says Mr. Parable, “I Bulstrode called Mr. Parable a “blind am not at home to any one.”

Samson” who had had his hair cut by "I 'll see," I says. And on my way I designing minx who had been hired to do slipped into the kitchen.

it. “Coffee for one, cook," I says, and she It was all French to me, but cook was understood. Her cap and apron were drinking in every word, and when she hanging behind the door. I Aung them returned from taking them in their cofacross to her, and she caught them; and fee, she made no bones about it, but took then I opened the front door.

up her place at the door, with her ear to They pushed past me without speaking, the keyhole. and went straight into the parlor. And It was Mr. Quincey that got them all they did n't waste many words on him, quiet, and then he began to explain things. either.

It seemed that if they could only find a "Where is she?" asked Miss Bulstrode. certain gentleman and persuade him to "Where 's who?" says Mr. Parable. come forward and acknowledge that he "Don't lie about it," said Miss Bul

began a row, that then all would be well. strode, making no effort to control her- Mr. Quincey would be fined forty shilself. “The hussy you've been dining lings, and Mr. Parable's name would with?"

never appear. Failing that, Mr. Parable, Do you mean Mrs. Meadows ?” says according to Mr. Quincey, could do his Mr. Parable.

fourteen days himself. I thought she was going to shake him. "I 've told you once,” says Mr. Para"Where have you hidden her?” she says. ble, “and I tell you again, that I don't

It was at that moment cook entered know the man's name and can't give it with the coffee.

If they had taken the trouble to look at "We are not asking you to,” says Mr. her they might have had an idea. The Quincey. "You give us the name of your tray was trembling in her hands, and in tango partner, and we 'll do the rest." her haste and excitement she had put on I could see cook's face; I had got a her cap the wrong way round. But she bit interested myself, and we were both kept control of her voice, and asked if she close to the door. She hardly seemed to should bring some more coffee.

be breathing “Ah, yes, you'd all like some coffee, "I am sorry," says Mr. Parable, speakwould n't you?" says Mr. Parable. Missing very deliberate-like, “but I am not Bulstrode did not reply, but Mr. Quin- going to have her name dragged into this cey said he was cold and would like it. business.” It was a nasty night, with a thin rain. "It would n't be," says Mr. Quincey.

"Thank you, sir,” says cook, and we “All we want to get out of her is the went out together.

name and address of the gentleman who Cottages are only cottages, and if peo- was so anxious to see her home." ple in the parlor persist in talking loudly, "Who was he?” says Miss Bulstrode. people in the kitchen can't very well help “Her husband ?” overhearing.

"No," says Mr. Parable, “he was n't.” There was a good deal of talk about “Then who was he?” says Miss Bul"fourteen days," which Mr. Parable said strode. "He must have been something he was going to do himself, and which to her. Fiancé?”

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"I am going to do the fourteen days tain Mr. Quincey of Harcourt Buildings, myself,” says Mr. Parable. "I shall come Temple, and acknowledge that it was he out all the fresher after a fortnight's com- who began the row at the Earl's Court plete rest and change."

Exhibition on the evening of the twentyCook leaves the door with a smile on seventh, that then the engagement beher face that made her look quite beauti- tween himself and Miss Price, hitherto ful, and, taking some paper from the unacknowledged by the lady, might be dresser drawer, began to write a letter. regarded as a fact.

They went on talking in the other Mr. Onions, who describes himself room for another ten minutes, and then as essentially a business man, decided beMr. Parable lets them out himself, and fore complying with Miss Price's request goes a little way with them. When he to take a few preliminary steps. As the came back, we could hear him walking result of judiciously conducted inquiries, up and down the other room.

first at the Vine Street Police Court and She had written and stamped the en- secondly at Twickenham, Mr. Onions arvelop; it was lying on the table.

rived later in the day at Mr. Quincey's "Joseph Onions, Esq.?'” I says, read- chambers with, to use his own expression, ing the address. “‘Auctioneer and House all the cards in his hand. It was Mr. Agent, Broadway, Hammersmith.' Is Quincey who, professing himself unable that the young man?”

to comply with Mr. Onions' sugges“That is the young man,'

tion, arranged the interview with Miss folding her letter, and putting it in the Bulstrode. And it was Miss Bulstrode envelop.

herself who, on condition that Mr. On“And was he your fiancé?” I asked. ions added to the undertaking the further

“No,” she says. “But he will be, if he condition that he would marry Miss Price does what I 'm telling him to do." before the end of the month, offered to "And what about Mr. Parable?"

make it two hundred. It was in their “A little joke that will amuse him later joint interest - Mr. Onions regarding on,” she says, slipping a cloak on her himself and Miss Price as now one-that shoulders. "How once he nearly married Mr. Onions suggested her making it his cook."

three; using such arguments as, in the "I sha'n't be a minute,” she says; and circumstances, naturally occurred to him; with her letter in her hand, she slips out. as, for example, the damage caused to the

Mrs. Meadows, we understand, has ex- lady's reputation by the whole proceedpressed indignation at our publication of ings, culminating in a night spent by the this interview, she being under the im- lady, according to her own account, on pression that she was simply having a Ham Common. That the price demanded friendly gossip with a neighbor. Our rep- was reasonable Mr. Onions considers as resentative, however, is sure he explained proved by Miss Bulstrode's eventual acto Mrs. Meadows that his visit was offi- ceptance of his terms. That, having got cial; and in any case our duty to the pub- out of him all that he wanted, Mr. Quinlic must be held to exonerate us from all cey should have “considered it his duty” blame in the matter.

to communicate the entire details of the

transaction to Miss Price, through the MR. JOSEPH ONIONS, Broadway, Ham- medium of Mr. Andrews, thinking it “as mersmith, auctioneer and house agent, ex- well she should know the character of the pressed himself to our representative as man she proposed to marry," Mr. Onions most surprised at the turn that events had considers a gross breach of etiquette as besubsequently taken. The letter that Mr. tween gentlemen; and having regard to Onions received from Miss Comfort Miss Price's after behavior Mr. Onions Price was explicit and definite. It was to can only say that she is not the girl he the effect that if he would call upon a cer

took her for.

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MR. Aaron ANDREWS, on whom our round my neck and kissed me. I am old representative called, was desirous at first enough to be her grandfather, but twenty of not being drawn into the matter; but years ago it might have upset me. on our representative explaining to him “I think I shall be able to save Miss that our only desire was to contradict Bulstrode that three hundred pounds," false rumors likely to be harmful to Mr. she laughed; and up-stairs and Parable's reputation, Mr. Andrews saw changed her things. When later I looked the necessity of putting our representative into the kitchen she was humming. in possession of the truth.

Mr. John came up by the car, and I She came back on Tuesday afternoon, could see he was in one of his moods. explained Mr. Andrews, and he had a "Pack me some things for a walkingtalk with her.

tour," he said. "Don't forget the knap"It is all right, Mr. Andrews," she sack. I am going to Scotland by the told me, “they 've been in communication eight thirty.” with my young man, and Miss Bulstrode "Will you be away long?" I asked him. has seen the magistrate privately. The “It depends upon how long it takes case will be dismissed with a fine of forty me,” he answered. "When I come back shillings, and Mr. Quincey has arranged I am going to be married." to keep it out of the papers.”

"Who is the lady?" I asked, though of "Well, all 's well that ends well,” I course I knew. answered, “but it might have been better, “Aliss Bulstrode,” he said. my girl, if you had mentioned that young "Well," I said, "she-" man of yours a bit earlier.”

“That will do,” he said, “I have had “I did not know it was of any impor- all that from the three of them for the tance," she explained. "Mr. Parable last two days. She is a socialist and a suftold me nothing. If it had n't been for fragist, and all the rest of it, and my chance, I should never have known what ideal helpmate. She is well off, and that was happening."

will enable me to devote all my time to I had always liked the young woman. putting the world to rights without bothMr. Quincey had suggested my waiting ering about anything else. Our home till after Wednesday. But there seemed will be the nursery of advanced ideas. to me no particular object in delay.

We shall share together the joys and de“Are you fond of him?" I asked her. lights of the public platform. What

“Yes,” she answered, “I am fonder more can any man want?" than- " and then she stopped herself sud- "You will want your dinner early," I denly, and Aared scarlet. “Who are you said, "if you are going by the eight thirty. talking about?" she demanded.

I had better tell cook —” “This young man of yours," I said, - He interrupted me again. "You can "Mr.- what 's his name-Onions." tell cook to go to the devil,” he said.

“Oh, that!" she answered. “Oh, yes, I naturally stared at him. he 's all right.”

"She is going to marry a beastly little "And if he was n't?" I said, and she rotter of a rent-collector that she does n't looked at me hard.

care a damn for," he went on. "I told him," she said, "that if he I could not understand why he seemed would do what I asked him to do, I 'd so mad about it. “I don't see in any case marry him. And he seems to have done what it 's got to do with you,” I said; it.”

"but as a matter of fact, she is n't." "There are ways of doing everything," "Is n't what?" he said, stopping short I said; and seeing it was n't going to and turning on me. break her heart, I told her just the plain "Is n't going to marry him," I anfacts. She listened without a word, and swered. when I had finished, she put her arms "Why not?" he demanded.

bell rang.

"Better ask her," I suggested.

She was standing stock-still, staring at I did n't know at the time that it was the pastry she was making. She turned a silly thing to say, and I am not sure to me, and there was a curious smile that I should not have said it, if I had. about her lips. When he is in one of his moods, I always “Do you know what you ought to be seem to get into one of mine. I have wearing?” she said. “Wings, and a little looked after Mr. John ever since he was

bow and arrow.” a baby, so that we do not either of us She did n't even think to wipe her treat the other quite as perhaps we ought hands, but went straight up-stairs. It to.

was about half an hour later when the “Tell cook I want her," he said.

Mr. John was standing by "She is just in the middle—" I began. the window.

"I don't care where she is,” he said. "Is that bag ready?" he said. He seemed determined never to let me “It will be,” I said. I went out into finish a sentence. “Send her

up

here." the hall and returned with the clothesShe was in the kitchen by herself. “He brush. wants to see you at once," I said.

"What are you going to do?” he said. "Who does ?" she asked.

“Perhaps you don't know it,” I said, "Mr. John,” I said.

"but you are all over flour.” "What 's he want to see me for?" she "Cook 's going with me to Scotland," asked.

he said. "How do I know?” I answered.

I have looked after Mr. John ever “.

"But you do,” she said. She always since he was a boy. He was forty-two had an obstinate twist in her, and feeling last birthday, but when I shook hands it would save time, I told her what had with him through the cab window, I happened.

could have sworn he was twenty-five "Well,” I said, "are n't you going?” again.

In the Deep Midnight

By CALE YOUNG RICE

CLAN

LANGING, ever clanging!

Clanging in the deep midnight, train-bells clanging!
Over the city sleeping;
Over the silent huddle of roofs and shadows;
Over the hearts of thousands, lying enchambered, breathing evenly,
Or breathing and tossing to and fro on torn seas of insomnia;
Clanging over the streets, restless clanging
Over hushed streets, with blue electric lights lonesomely burning;
Over the steepled churches,
The shrines dark and empty save for the voiceless souls of Bibles ;
Over the wan hospital, the wards where the sick lie waking a little,
And where they moan a little, not knowing why;
Over the jail, where the guilty, too, wake and stir in their ward,
And where they start, with waging blood, and moan and beat at their bars,
Because for them there is neither home nor highway;
Over that other prison, where the dead lie,
But wake not at all, nor struggle, nor beat at their bars
Ever, ever clanging!

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