dead. I got Mr. Leighton to investigate the matter and he found it was
too true. He had been killed and robbed. For a time I was inconsolable,
and it was then that Mr. Leighton was most tender. When I began to
recover from the blow I wondered why he had not asked me to be his wife,
for he had often told me he loved me better than his life. I waited
several weeks and he said no word, so I finally decided to speak of the
matter myself, thinking he might feel reticent considering my recent
bereavement.
“When I did muster up courage to speak to him he said: ‘Why, my dear,
when I marry and give a woman my name she must be pure.’
“‘And if I am not pure, who is to blame?’ said I, quivering with rage.
“‘There, there, we won’t talk about it any more,’ said he.
“He went away and left me in an agony of despair. I went to Lita’s room
and told her the whole story, for I knew she was rational and had told me
the truth.
“When I had sobbed out all my troubles on her breast she soothed me and
said: ‘Listen, Anita, you will believe me, I am sure, so I will tell you
something. Dr. Snyder, whom you called in that day I was so ill, has
learned to love me. He knows all my story and is willing to marry me. We
were going to run away from here together at the first opportunity. If
you will, you shall go with us. We are going to have a beautiful home on
Drexel Boulevard, and you will be a most welcome guest.’”
“I suppose this is the place,” said I. “You certainly have a lovely home.”
“Yes, and Lita has more than repaid me for what I did for her. The
doctor went to the doctors who employed me before we took the cottage
and learned all about his doings. He had him arrested and he is now
languishing in jail. Dannie will be here in three days now. Oh, I am so
happy!”
“Dannie! Why, I thought you said he was dead?”
“Oh, you see, that was a part of Mr. Leighton’s nefarious plot. He
intercepted all the letters that passed between Dannie and me and bribed
a man to send that telegram to me; then sent a man to Dannie to prove I
was untrue to him.
“He seemed to be highly successful in carrying out his plans for a long
time, but you see he was caught in his own toils.
“Dr. Snyder was so kind that he went out West and searched for Dannie
until he found him and told him all and Dannie forgave everything. He
had invested some of his money in the oil lands there and we will have
plenty of money now, for they turned out well. He was coming to me on the
first train, but the doctor prevailed upon him to stay and finish up his
affairs first, so that he would not lose anything.
“Just think! only three days more until we are reunited.”
TALE NINE.
WHAT HAPPENED TO A GIRL WHO FLIRTED.
“The thorns which I have reap’d are of the tree
I planted,—they have torn me and I bleed:
I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.”
“If all girls had as bitter an experience as I had, and all brought about
by their first venture at flirting, I am sure there would be less of it.
“I had lived in Chicago a number of years, but had been so carefully
reared that I knew absolutely nothing of the snares set for the feet of
the unsophisticated.
“My parents died within a few weeks of each other and I was left all
alone, so far as near relatives were concerned. After the estate was
settled up and I had recovered from the shock of their death, I was left
to my own devices, and while I had many invitations to make my home with
relatives I decided I should like to be alone for awhile, so I went to
live with a widow and her daughter. I enjoyed my Bohemian life very much,
for it was such a change from the old way of living and I was bent on
making the most of it. I was engaged to a young man from the South at
this time. He was a young man of the highest principles and unimpeachable
honor, and one of whom my parents thoroughly approved. I think mamma felt
quite happy and resigned when she took Will’s hand and placed mine in
it and said: ‘Will, you will take good care of my baby after I am gone,
for I shall leave you all very soon now. I shall die happy if I have your
promise,’ she said faintly.
“He leaned over her and said: ‘Mother, dear, I promise. Agneta shall
always have my tenderest love and devotion.’
“Well, as I was saying, I went to live with this kind family and they
granted me every privilege that I could have had in my own home. Will was
an ideal lover and caretaker; in fact, he was too good, and I was not
sensible enough to appreciate it then. Ah, if I could only live over the
old days once more, things might have been different. One needs to live
three score and ten years before one knows how to live.
“One day I dressed myself with unusual care, entirely in black, of
course, but it was quite as becoming as any color. I could not have told
why I was so painstaking in making my toilet; it must have been an unkind
fate at work while the angel guardian of my peace and happiness, slept.
“I bought a few articles at Field’s and ordered them sent out, then went
up to the waiting room on the second floor, where I could look down from
the gallery to the main floor and watch the throng of shoppers. While
I was sitting there I saw a fine looking young man standing near me,
engaged in conversation with some ladies. At the first glance I took
him to be an old acquaintance of mine. He was not very tall, but had
beautiful wavy black hair and eyes of a soft brown.
“I suppose my gaze, which was a little more ardent than custom would
permit, attracted his attention, for he glanced at me frequently, and as
those things sometimes happen caught my glance every time. I knew by this
time that he was not the acquaintance for whom I had taken him the first
time I looked at him, but his face was so handsome it seemed to fascinate
me, although on a closer inspection it was slightly effeminate. I think
we kept that up for nearly half an hour, but all this time no word was
spoken. I decided that I had better leave, and I arose to go and was soon
lost in the throng. I was walking east on Madison when someone walked up
beside me and tipping his hat said: ‘Pardon me, may I walk with you?’
“I was not so disconcerted as I had always supposed a girl must feel
under such circumstances. I looked around and, of course, it was not the
young man, but Will. I was half vexed and treated him very coldly, until
he told me that he had seen me at Field’s and had noticed the conduct of
the man in question who had held my attention so long, and believed he
had evil designs on me.
“This made me really angry, and I told him that was just like a man to
think that every glance another man bestowed upon the woman he loved was
evil. ‘One would think I had no individuality, no charm of person at all
to hear you talk,’ I said.
“‘Well, I know the men better than you do, dear; so please be careful,
won’t you? Men never have a good opinion of a woman who will flirt with
them.’
“Now, you see, if there is anything a girl hates it is to have her
sweetheart assume superiority over her in knowledge of men; so it all
combined to make me disagreeable.
“He walked as far as Lyon & Healy’s with me and I went in to buy some
music. He went on back to his office. After I had bought my music I
sauntered into the room where the pianolas are on exhibition and sat down
near the window to listen to the music. It was not long before some one
at my elbow said: ‘How do you do? I have been trying to find you ever
since you left Field’s, and was just despairing when I passed this window
and saw you. Are you enjoying the music?’
“I looked up into two brown eyes and my heart fluttered painfully.
“No, I didn’t feel any remorse yet, for I was still piqued at Will’s
interference with my innocent pastime and what he had said still rankled
in my heart.
“He sat down and we talked a few moments, and then he suggested that we
walk up to the Auditorium and sit in the parlor, as it would be so much
more quiet there. So I walked up there with him. We had a very pleasant
chat and I thought more and more how ill-timed Will’s remarks were and
how unjust. Why, this man was every bit as much a gentleman as Will
himself.
“‘Pardon me, but are you not in mourning?’ he asked, noting my black
apparel. ‘As you have probably noticed, I am wearing deep mourning and
perhaps that is why I noticed yours.’
“I told him the circumstances, and then he told me he was mourning the
loss of his wife, who had been dead three months. He seemed to feel like
talking of her, so I encouraged him, thinking it might be a relief to
his feelings. He did not say a great deal, except that they were very
happy and she died, leaving a sweet baby girl, who survived her mother
seven weeks.
“When at last I arose to go he laid a detaining hand on me and said:
‘Allow me to present my card, and will you allow me to call?
“‘I should like to tell you all about our life, if it will not bore you.
You are such a sympathetic little woman that it will be a great relief to
unburden my heart to you.’ Tears stood in his eyes as he spoke. If there
was anything needed to win me, more than his words, it was those tears.
So, after hesitating a little and alluding to the unconventional manner
in which we met, he said: ‘I know; I can understand how you might feel,
but this is not a day of strict conventionalities, and you know that if
we all waited for a formal introduction we should miss a great deal in
the world. Many of the truest friendships are formed in this way.’
“So we decided on the following Wednesday. I suggested that night because
I knew Will would be out of the city on that night.
“Wednesday night came at last and found me waiting expectantly. I was
delighted at the prospect of doing something a little risque. He came and
I introduced him to my friends and they were very favorably impressed
with him, I could see by their actions. I didn’t tell them how I met him
though. After visiting awhile he asked me if I would not go down town and
have dinner with him, and I thought that would be fine. We drove down
town and stopped in front of a well-known restaurant; that is, well
known to all but the novice.
“We alighted and were shown to a little room, which I have since learned
was a private dining room. I did not exactly like the idea of being shut
up in a room alone with him at the time, but did not dare comment on the
matter for fear of showing my ignorance. He ordered a nice dinner and
asked me what I would have to drink. I told him I never drank, so he did
not insist on my taking anything, but ordered whiskey for himself. On the
pretext of getting his handkerchief out of his overcoat, which hung back
of me, he passed me and bent over and kissed me. Not a kiss of respect,
but a kiss of vile, lecherous passion, and one, no doubt, intended to
inflame me. I pushed him away from me disgusted and reprimanded him
severely. He apologized and said: ‘You are so sweet, so irresistible I
could not help it.’
“After dinner he came over to me again and kissed me. I was very angry
this time and resolved to go home at once. He pushed me down into the
chair and told me I could not go yet. I finally succeeded in rising to
my feet and he sat down in the chair I vacated and pulled me down in his
lap. I struggled to free myself and reached the door. He caught me in
his arms and pressed me to him in a passionate embrace, raining burning
kisses on my face. He subjected me to every indignity that was possible
considering that I was fighting all the time to get away. I tried to
reach the electric bell and summon aid, but he divined my intention
and drew me back. I was afraid to scream for fear of creating a scene
and perhaps getting my name in the paper in connection with such a
scandalous affair.
“I prayed for deliverance from that man as I never prayed before in all
my life, and promised myself if I got home safely I would never, never
flirt with anyone again.
“As if in answer to my prayer, a thought flashed across my brain. My hat
pins! They were of very stiff steel, and I snatched one out of my hat
and plunged it viciously into his arm. It broke. I took the other and
struck him with all my strength and that broke and I could not see that
I had hurt him a particle. My strength was fast giving out, and I was in
despair. I feared he would force me to yield that which I would rather
die than part with. But joy! by this time the blood was running down his
arm in a stream. He saw it and let me go. ‘My God! girl! What have you
done? Look at the blood!’
“He took off his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeve. His heavy flannel
undershirt was saturated with blood. The pin points had entered the upper
arm with great force and the wounds were bleeding profusely. I felt sorry
when I saw what I had done, and I offered to bind them up for him. He
gave me his handkerchief and I bandaged it up tightly. Then he sat down,
pale and trembling, weak from the loss of blood. I was in about the same
condition from nervousness. He urged me to take a stimulant of some kind,
and I finally consented and took my first drink of whiskey and absinthe.
He told me all about his wife and how happy they had been the one short
year she had been spared to him. He told me how she suffered on her
deathbed and with what fortitude she bore up under it, trying with her
last breath to cheer him and asking him to live for her baby’s sake.
“The tears rolled down his cheeks and I cried in sympathy.
“‘My angel wife is dead and her baby—our baby. No one cares for me now
nor what I do. I have lost all my friends since she died and nearly all
my money. I have been drinking and gambling and was in my cups when I
came to you to-night. I would not hesitate a minute to kill myself if it
were not for the fear that I should never meet her in heaven.”
“‘Do you think what you have done to-night would please her if she can
look down and see you? You deliberately enticed an innocent girl here,
one whom you surely must know was innocent, and for what purpose I can
form but one opinion.’
“He went down on his knees beside me and begged my forgiveness.
“‘Give me one kiss to show me that you forgive me,’ he said.
“He called the waiter and ordered another drink apiece, which I should
not have taken. It went to my head and when I tried to walk I staggered.
He took me in his arms and that is the last I remember until I felt the
wind blowing on my face.
“I was leaning against him in the carriage. I did not know where I was
going and I did not care. The thought of Will came to me but dimly. I
felt no compunction, and if I had it would not have aroused me from my
stupor sufficiently to make me active.
“When I came to my senses I was home, thank heaven! Just as pure as when
I left. They told me I had been brought home ill; had had a sudden attack
of heart failure and had been given something to stimulate me. So much
for the whiskey breath.
“When Will returned I met him as usual, but with, oh, so much keener
appreciation of his goodness than I had ever felt before. I had had
an experience which taught me his sterling worth. I realized how
unscrupulous men were when they had no interest in a woman beyond that of
a passing fancy.
“No, I have not told Will. I could not see that it would do any good. I
committed one indiscretion and I think I should commit another if I told
him. He might not forgive me, or, if he did, he would never feel quite
the same toward me, perhaps, and both his happiness and mine would be
ruined. I say ruined, for we are certainly very congenial and I believe
God intended us for each other, and perhaps it was part of His divine
providence that I passed through what I did.”
TALE TEN.
SOLD AT A FIXED PRICE.
TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE.
“By thine own soul’s law learn to live,
And if men thwart thee, take no heed,
And if men hate thee, have no care;
Sing thou thy song and do thy deed.
Hope thou thy hope and pray thy prayer,
And claim no crown they will not give,
Nor bays they grudge thee for thy hair.
“Keep thou thy soul-sworn, steadfast oath,
And to thy heart be true thy heart;
What thy soul teaches learn to know,
And play out thine appointed part,
And thou shalt reap as thou shalt sow,
Nor helped nor hindered in thy growth,
To thy full stature thou shalt grow.
“Fix on the future’s goal thy face,
And let thy feet be lured to stray
Nowhither, but be swift to run,
And nowhere tarry by the way,
Until at last the end is won
And thou mayst look back from thy place
And see thy long day’s journey done.”
“Dearest Arthur: Sounds strange, does it not, or, perhaps, no sound
escapes your lips as your eyes scan this letter. I write you; you are
surprised, I know, but you should not be, for stranger things than this
have happened. My reasons for writing, I say reasons because they are
numerous, will be divulged either by statements from my pen or by a
critical reading between the lines.
“You asked me to write, though why you should have done so is more than
I am able to determine. I am sure it was not all love which prompted you
to make the request. I feel that you did at one time love me. No, a man
of your force of character cannot love truly and allow that love to die
while the object of his devotion lives. If you ever loved, you still
love. The only question that remains unanswered is, ‘Am I the only one to
whom your whole heart has gone out?’ Be that as it may, I have concluded
that, wise or unwise, right or wrong, the same untiring love which has
inspired me to worship you, day by day and the long night through, since
first we met, must live on until the words, ‘Dust to dust’ have echoed
through the tall pines and rolling mounds of our Southern city of the
dead, while the clods fall heavily on the rough box that contains my
casket. I feel I could court even death while reveling in the sunshine of
your beauteous love, and smilingly challenge the chords of life to snap
and precipitate me into that unknown beyond, with the memory of your dear
kisses on my cold, blue lips.
“I feel that way now, when so many leagues separate us, but I presume
that should I be blessed with one smile from you, I should want to live
always. I think one slight token of recognition, one little sign of
memory of the old days, spreading over your features would be food and
drink to me ever. But such joys do not spread themselves on my table of
anticipation. I know not love. I only know what it is to love. I have
hesitated about writing you as I shall before I close.
“I have wondered if by holding open the bleeding wounds of my breast,
the breast you have made love to, the breast that gave life and strength
to your child, while the thrills of motherhood overcame me even to tears
of joy, would pain you. I have summed it all up and have concluded that
nothing will pain you, so will not hesitate to show to you the every
heart-beat as it forces the blood through the veins which your heartless
acts have drained. Forgive me, darling, if I inflict any injury upon your
feelings by any reference to the past, but then you know your short note
said, ‘Do not conceal a single thought nor withhold one particle of the
emotion with which your voluptuous body abounds.’ I will pour out the
soul that you have penned up. I will account to you for the acts which
you refer to as unladylike. I will bring to your mind new fancies, born
of reflection. I will accuse you of no wrong, for you in your exalted
goodness and influential position must know right from wrong. If I am
wrong, God is just. If He allowed you to misjudge me, I beseech Him to
prevent you from branding another woman with the same iron. While I have
been writing one day has died and another been born. With the passing
of the hour I have passed another milepost. I am now one year older. My
birthday and my baby are the only things I can claim without dispute as
to title.
“I have been to his bed, the baby’s bed, and shall I tell you—his
father—how sweetly he sleeps, how my burning kisses did not startle him?
You will know whether or not these lips of mine will arouse a man to
his greatest efforts. You, and you alone, have tasted the sweets that I
longed to lavish upon you until satiety was a far away and unknown thing.
“You said: ‘Write. I am interested in your welfare.’
“I believe you, for you fear me as the bleating lamb fears the ravenous
wolf; but fear not, oh, god of mine; you are my child’s father, and for
the gracious act of begetting me an image of thine own self I shall
always be devoted to you.
“Oh, that I could live on and on into the ages that are only obscured
by oblivion. But no. Face to face with a world, I must accept death as
a charm to enduring existence. You must know, dearest, that I love you,
have always loved you and shall always love you. As I sit and look into
the fire which from great red flames has sunk to an ember glow, I liken
it to your love; for in the manliness of your youthfulness you loved me
with a passion that was all consuming. I bathed your soul in the divine
worship and devotion such as only a pure woman can pour out on a man
whom she extols above all others. In your letter there appears not one
allusion to love. Is it possible that you do not love me? You who have
held me so close while spasms of delight have shaken your stalwart frame,
and the flame of passion has reddened your otherwise placid brow, while
exclamations of joy poured forth from your lips between the spasmodic
kisses which held my lips as in a vice. You, a man of equal parts, do
not mention love; you may remain silent on that subject, but if you tell
yourself that you do not love you _lie_, and your heart bears witness to
it.
“You can love; I know you can, for I can love with a wild desire to die
in your arms, and I am a student of no school but your own.
“Do you imagine that the cold indifference which your letter displays
will have a tendency to lessen my love for you? Do not be misled, I beg
of you, for you once descended from your proud station to make love to
me, and I have treasured that love and it has grown into such a mountain
that no chasm of indifference can ever engulf it, and remember you are
his father—my child’s father. He would love you, too, for having loved
me, if for no other reason, for, God bless him, he is in love with your
old sweetheart. Where I go he will go. I do not love you still with the
hope that as in our case at first, love begets love.
“I have long since learned to live to love, and expect nothing but dreams
in return. You did love me. No, you did not, or else all the world could
not have torn you from me; but you cannot love another. I wish you might,
for the goodness which lies within you would shine out and light a world
of laggards.
“You ask me if I am comfortable. Yes. I have everything that my physical
needs require. I have a good home and plenty to eat and wear. You say you
often wonder how I manage to get along in such an expensive city. Now, if
you mean that, you love me and you feel that every dollar I have comes
without the soil of dishonor. I will tell you how I—we—live. You have
raved over my figure; you have worshipped my body as though the presence
of my heart were an unheard of thing. Other men have evidently been
schooled in the same house of learning as you, for they, too, admire my
flesh and bone. Not a day passes but that I form some new acquaintance,
and, as I take it, all on account of my shapely limbs, my slender waist
and swelling bosoms. Those very possessions which were once yours, all
yours for your own aggrandizement and worshipful indulgence; those charms
which held you to me—the wealth of red-gold hair, the pink-tipped ears,
the pearly white teeth, the tapering hands, the high-arched foot, the
delicately moulded ankles, the laughing eyes and supple grace that you so
admired, even before I gave to you a son, are as much admired by other
men as they once were admired by you.
“It is different, though, with them and you. You held all of the then
priceless pearls with nothing but love; the same possessions which were
then yours because I loved you, are now dispensed at intervals to suit
the convenience of other men and for financial consideration.
“We—you and I—can remember the time when no man but you could lay claim
to any of my charms except my ready smile and kindly word.
“Now, and for two years past, my charms have been the property of a
public who, while not so demonstrative as you once were, seem wild to
have me disport myself for the edification of mankind.
“I often ask if I wrong a nature-loving public by allowing the use of my
body to fulfill their desires.