Margaret was sure he must wish her away

The worst phase of Margaret's predicament was that it had become absolutely impossible for her to continue to live longer under the same roof with Walter and Harriet. The simple truth was, Harriet was jealous of Walter's quite brotherly affection for her—for so Margaret interpreted his kindly attitude toward her. Having no least realization of her own unusual maidenly charm, the fact that her brother-in-law was actually fighting a grande passion for her would have seemed to her grotesque, incredible; for Walter, being a Southern gentleman, controlled his feelings sufficiently to treat her always with scrupulous consideration and courtesy. Therefore, she considered Harriet's jealousy wholly unreasonable. Why, her sister seemed actually afraid to trust the two of them alone in the house together! (Margaret did not dream that Walter was afraid to trust himself alone in the house with her.) And if by chance Harriet ever found them in a tête-à-tête, she would not speak to Margaret for days, and as Walter, too, was made to take his punishment, . Of course, since she had become a cause for discord and unhappiness between Harriet and Walter, she must go. A way must be found for her to live away from Berkeley Hill.

It was this condition of things which she faced the night she lay on the couch in her sister's room keeping guard over her sleeping children while Harriet and Walter were seeing Nazimova in "Hedda Gabler."Margaret was surprised next morning at breakfast when a humorous reference on her part to "Walter's funny little Yankee" met with no response.

"But, Walter, he's a freak! Didn't you find him so, Harriet?"

"Oh, I don't know. Walter says he's a wonder in his knowledge of the law."

"He has one of the keenest legal minds I've ever met," declared Walter, "though of course——" He looked at Margaret uncertainly. "Well, Margaret, after your eight years with a highbrow like your Uncle Osmond, most other men must seem, by contrast, rather stupid to you. Even I," he smiled whimsically, "must feel abashed before such a standard as you've acquired. But really, one can't despise a man who has reached the place in his profession that Leitzel has attained, even if he is a bit—eh, peculiar."

It never occurred to Walter to recommend Leitzel by mentioning that he was a millionaire, the man's prominence in his profession being, in Eastman's eyes, the measure of his value.

"It's going to be rather rough on your husband, Margaret," Walter teased her, "to have to play up to the intellectual taste of a wife that's lived with Osmond Berkeley."

"But, Walter, other things may appeal to me: kindness and affection, for instance. My life, you know," she said gravely, "has been pretty devoid of that."

There was a moment's rather awkward silence at the table, which Margaret herself quickly broke. "This Mr. Leitzel—there's something positively uncanny in the way he seems to see straight through you to your back hooks and eyes; and I'm quite sure if there was a small safety pin anywhere about me last night where a hook and eye should have been, he knew it and disapproved of it. I'm certain that details like safety pins interest him; he has that sort of mind, if he is a great lawyer."

"Not great," Walter corrected her. "I didn't say great. He's able and skillful; but, I must admit, very limited in his scope, his field being merely the legal technicalities involved in the management of a corporation. However, he's a nice enough little fellow. Didn't you find him so?"

"I'm afraid I found him rather absurd and tiresome."

"Take care, Margaret!" Harriet playfully warned her, "or else—oh! won't you have to be explaining away and apologizing for the things you are saying about that man. He's smitten with you!"

Matthias kept his sights on the river

"Then again," Matthias argued, "would it not be better if we made our way to the quarry and waited there? Asmodeus is bound to head for home."

"I wish it were that simple, my friend," Log-a-Log replied. "The land around the quarry offers no concealment; too flat and bare. Poisonteeth is full of ancient cunning too. He may have a secret entrance outside the quarry itself. I think it is best we wait here. I'll spread the comrades out in a line. We'll all keep watch."

Throughout the long afternoon, Matthias lay hidden at the base of a lilac bush. He was within calling distance of shrews secreted a short distance away, as they were of their neighbors farther along. Fully a half mile of the bank was covered in this fashion. Whoever spotted Asmodeus was to report, after letting one minute elapse, to Matthias, who was positioned roughly at the center of the line. Guosim and Log-a-Log were stationed on either flank.

The blazing sun hung over the watchers like a fiery disc. and the ground in front of him, not daring to move, whether to eat, drink or scratch. He was forced to endure the unwelcome attention of inquisitive flies and insects that buzzed about and walked across him at their leisure. Often he would focus so hard that his imagination played tricks. A slight ripple upon the water, or a vagrant breeze through the grass, became Asmodeus. He would blink and reassure himself that it was only a product of his tensed mind.

The young mouse lost track of time until he became aware of the sun starting to sink in a reddening sky heralding the twilight. Surely the snake must pass this way soon!

As complete darkness descended, a shrew sneaked up through the grass and tapped Matthias's shoulder.

"What's the matter? Has Asmodeus been sighted?" Matthias asked.

The shrew pointed out along the flank that Guosim headed. "I don't know, mouse. You'd better come and see for yourself. I'll go and get Log-a-Log."

Matthias scrambled out from beneath the lilac. Something must have gone wrong! Throwing caution to the winds, he

dashed along the river bank. Other shrews left their hiding places and followed him.

Guosim was seated upon the open ground, her eyes wide with fright, teeth chattering madly, her whole body trembling tike a leaf.

Log-a-Log came racing up. Matthias shouted to him, "Guosim's in a state of shock! Help me, let's get her into the water."

Grabbing Guosim between them they rushed her into the shallows and ducked her under the surface of the river. She came up spluttering but coherent.

"Giant Poisonteeth, the snake, Asmodeus, he was here! I didn't spot him until it was too late. He's taken Mingo. Gave him the magic eyes, then bit him and dragged him off! Poor Mingo. Ugh! It was horrible, horrible, I tell you, the rotten filthy reptile!" Guosim flung herself down sobbing into the grass.The best way to reduce labour in refilling vape cartridge is by getting an ! They have a small table top design and come with a year’s warranty. So, do some work with this machine!

Log-a-Log pulled her roughly to her feet. "Come on, don't lie there crying, shrew! The adder probably left a good wet trail for us to follow. Where did it happen?"

Guosim ran shakily some distance to the left. She pointed to the ground. "Right here! You can see the great slithering marks! Look!"

The evidence was quite clear. The wet path in the dry grass gleamed in the dark.

晻 They followed the trail with Matthias and Log-a-Log in the

lead. It twisted and turned tortuously, over small hillocks,

through hedges and across fields. Even when the wetness

stopped there was the musty odor of death clinging to the

'? ground.

? At the top of a small rise Matthias dropped into a crouch. :f Signaling sveryone to do likewise, he pointed downwards. ? "Look, Log-a-Log! There!"

gave him stockings and shoes

Grim took the boy Havelok and bound him and gagged him and took him home in a black bag. When Grim carried the sack into his cottage, Dame Leve, his wife, was so frightened that she dropped the sack her husband had handed to her, and cracked poor little Havelok's head against a stone.

They let the boy lie this way until midnight, when it would be dark enough for Grim to drown Havelok in the sea. Leve was just bringing Grim some clothes that he might put on to go out and drown the King's son, when they saw a light shining about the child SmarTone.

"What is this light?" cried Dame Leve. "Rise up, Grim."

In haste the fisherman rose and they went over to the child, about whose head shone a clear light, from whose mouth came rays of light like sunbeams. It was as if many candles were burning in that tiny fisherman's hut. They unbound the boy and they found on his right shoulder a king's mark, bright and fair like the lights.

They were overcome by what Godard had done [Pg 61]and had almost led them to do. They fell upon their knees before the little boy and promised to feed and clothe him. And so they did, and they were very good to him and kept him from all harm. But Grim and his wife became frightened, for fear that Godard would discover that they had not drowned the child and would hang them. Thereupon Grim sold all that he had, sheep, cow, horse, pigs, goat, geese, hens—everything, in short, that was his. Taking his money, he put his wife, his three little sons, and two pretty little girls and Havelok into his fishing-boat and they set sail for England.

The north wind blew and drove them down upon the coast of England near the river Humber, and there Grim landed, and the place is called[Pg 62] Grimsby to this day. Then Grim set himself to his old occupation of fishing, and he caught sturgeon, whale, turbot, salmon, seal, porpoise, mackerel, flounder, plaice, and thornback. And he and his sons carried the fish about in baskets and sold them QTS Hong Kong.

Yet while Grim fed his family well, Havelok lay at home and did naught. And when Havelok stopped to think about that, he was ashamed, for he was a fine, strong boy.

"Work is no shame," said the King's son to himself.

And the next day he carried to market as much fish as four men could. And every bit of fish did he sell and brought back the money, keeping not a farthing for himself. Alas! there came a famine about this time, and Grim had great fear on Havelok's account lest the boy starve.

"Havelok," said Grim, "our meat is long since gone. For myself it does not matter, but I fear for thee. Thou knowest how to get to Lincoln, and there they will give thee a chance to earn thy food. Since thou art naked, I will make thee a coat from my sail."

This he did, and with the coat on and barefoot the King's son found his way to Lincoln. For two days the lad had no food. On the third day he heard some one crying, "Bearing-men, bearing-men, come here!" Havelok leaped forward to the [Pg 63]Earl's cook and bore the food to the castle. Another time he lifted a whole cart-load of fish and bore it to the castle.

The cook looked him over and said: "Wilt thou work for me? I will feed thee gladly."

"Feed me," answered Havelok, "and I will make thy fire burn and wash thy dishes."

And because Havelok was a strong lad and a good boy, as all kings' sons are not, he worked hard from that day forth. He bore all the food in and carried all the wood and the water, and worked as hard as if he were a beast. And he was a merry lad, too, for he knew how to hide his griefs. And the old story says that all who saw him loved him, for he was meek and strong and fair. But still he had nothing but the wretched coat to wear. So the cook took pity on him and bought him span-new clothes and . And when he had put them on he looked the King's son he was. At the Lincoln games he was "like a mast," taller and straighter than any youth there. In wrestling he overcame every one. Yet he was known for his gentleness. Never before had Havelok seen stone-putting, but when his master told him to try, Havelok threw the stone twelve feet beyond what any one else could do .

called to bring some fruit

In the old days at home Ida May had been accustomed to climb trees and to swing about in their branches. She realized that when the bough bent its entire length earthward she must let go her hold, or it would carry her quickly up again. She let go her hold when she felt that the bough of the tree had bent to its utmost. Quickly she fell downward, and Ida May, stunned and helpless for a moment, found herself lying in the long green grass.

She had scarcely fallen three feet, yet the shock had stunned her.

She knew that she must be on some country road. Afar4 in the distance she could distinctly see rows of glimmering lights. Those she knew must be the lights of the city. She must reach it and find the house on Fifth Avenue before she dared give herself a moment's rest.

She reached the outskirts of the city at last, and crept on toward its great throbbing heart.

Like one in a dream, Ida May saw a tall, thin woman and a young girl, who appeared to be her maid, step from a carriage.

She tried to get out of their way, but if her very life had depended upon it, she could not have done so. The tall woman and Ida May jostled against each other.

With a sharp exclamation of anger, the lady turned upon her. But at that moment Ida reeled, and, with a piteous moan, fell senseless at her feet.

"Well, well! here's a pretty howdy-do!" exclaimed the tall, angular woman. "Here, John!" she called to the footman, who was just shutting the door of the vehicle, "pick up this poor creature, and carry her into the house. It appears I have knocked her down. I hope no bones are broken."

The house into which Ida May was carried was a very small cottage, occupied by a poor laborer and his wife, who were the parents of a little one who was ill but was slowly convalescing .

The wealthy spinster and her maid often or medicine to the child.

Miss Fernly was not fair to look upon, but she had a heart of gold. She was quite eccentric; but her purse was always open to the wants of the needy.

"Leave the room instantly," she said to her maid. "Run out and tell the coachman to go for the nearest doctor, and to fetch him back with him at once!"

It seemed an age until the doctor arrived. Everything in human power was done to render the sufferer comfortable.

It was early morn when the doctor departed—and there had come into this great world of sorrow a dark-eyed little stranger—a tiny little one, with a lovely face like its mother's.

"Will it live?" cried the young mother, as she listened breathlessly to its faint little wails.

"I am afraid not," replied the doctor pityingly. "We can only hope."

"Oh, if it would only die—only die!" sobbed the girl's mother. "The world is so cold and so dark!"

[103]

Miss Fernly drew back, shocked and pained.

"You must not wish for anything like that to happen," she said, "for God might take you at your word."

For ten long and weary days the hapless young mother lay with her face to the wall, crying out to Heaven to take her and her baby from this cruel world.

In great fear, the doctor had taken charge of the little one, and conveyed it to a near-by foundling asylum. Its presence seemed to irritate the hapless young mother, who was already in a high feve r.

Miss Fernly called every day at the cottage, to see how her latest charge was progressing.

She had taken a strange interest in the girl whose identity seemed shrouded in such profound mystery.

For long hours after the doctor had left Ida May, she wept so bitterly over the fate of her little child that Miss Fernly grew alarmed.

"Crying will not bring the baby back," she said. "The Almighty knew best whether He wanted it to live or die. You must not rail against the judgment of God!"

[108]

fluttering of her own hear

“Stop, Jane!” he cried, coming forward and seizing her by the elbows. “It’s sacrilege. Look up into my eyes. You dare not, because you know that I speak the truth, because you know that you’ll discover in them a token of love unending—the same look that you’ve always found there, because when you see it you will recognize it as a force too great to conquer—too mighty to be argued away for the sake of a whim of your injured pride. Look up at me, Jane reenex facial.”

He had his arms around her now; but she struggled in them, her head still turned away.

“Let me go, Mr. Gallatin,” she gasped. “It can never be. You have hurt me—mortally.”

“No. I’ll never let you go, until you look up in my eyes and tell me you believe in me.”

“It’s unmanly of you,” she cried, still struggling. “Let me go, please, at once.”

Neither of them had heard the opening and closing of the front door, nor seen the figure which now blocked the doorway into the hall, but at the deep tones which greeted them, they straightened and faced Mr. Loring.

“I beg your pardon, Jane,” he was saying with ironical amusement. “I chose the wrong moment it seems,” and then in harsher accents as Gallatin walked toward him. “You! Jane, what does this mean?”

Miss Loring had reached the end of the Davenport where she stood leaning with one hand on its arm, a little frightened at the expression in her father’s face, but more perturbed and shaken by the t which told her how nearly Phil Gallatin had convinced her against her will that there was nothing in all the world that mattered except his love and hers nu skin.

Her father’s sudden appearance had startled her, too, for though no words had passed between father and daughter, she knew that her mother had already repeated the tale of her romance and of its sudden termination. She tried to speak in reply to Mr. Loring’s question, but no words would come and after a silence burdened with meaning she heard Phil Gallatin speaking.

“It means, Mr. Loring,” he was saying steadily, “that I love your daughter—that I hope, some day, to ask her to be my wife.”

Loring came into the room, his eyes contracted, his[239] bull neck thrust forward, his face suffused with blood.

“You want to marry my daughter? You! I think you’re mistaken.” He stopped and peered at one and then the other. “I’ve heard something about you, Mr. Gallatin,” he said more calmly. “Your ways seem to be crossing mine more frequently than I like .”

“I hardly understand you,” said Gallatin clearly.

“I’ll try to make my meaning plain. We needn’t discuss at once the relations between you and my daughter. Whatever they’ve been or are now, they’re less important than other matters.”

“Other matters!” Gallatin exclaimed. Jane had straightened and came forward, aware of some new element in her father’s antipathy. Loring glanced at her and went on.