The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 20, 1901, Page 6

Copyright, 190, by Joseph Hatton. CHAPTER XLII—Continued. B was slightly above the medium beight and suggested a county magnate or a country squire rath- er than a professional man of the of London. A round, cheery coun- ance, penetrating eyes with marked evebrows, a clean-shaven face, full lips, a somewhat stumpy mnose. In siness he had a calm, astute manner, rarely smiling, but outside the trammels a frank, open, mirthful expres- Though the use of his monocole was rfectly natural to him, his critics cred- 4 him with meking histrionic play with esp ¢ when cross-examining a wit- by the way, something 1 and doubtiag manner of Philip Grey. Brunnen's cousin?” untying & bundle of papers Brunnen, Glover and Dankes.” over in the Umbria?" he end to a financial career, Dex- she had no experfence of a mination in court, Zella was efself to that kind of ordeal. d her for a moment and then dropped igh have seen the reports of his friend, Glover, did not tell me that ancee was a type-writing girl.” when he appeared to have told rything else about her. Rather a person?”’ r ble young that t our business at the mo- What have you to say to me, Mr. was expecting that hing to say to me,” Zel- him squarely in the ed my cousin's letter yoa . as her representative; may 1 ask, received any from Chicago?” tive shot of Zella's & several ecables that among Lorrimen’s bundie ing over the mes- had noticed, and ex- ng them by the aid of his glass. torey, Dally Mal, one from Bridg n, one from Hildyards, Chicago lawyers: each less urgent, all asking my firm if they had seen or heard from Miss . is just a lttle erratic. Anxious awhile she delayed her morning she cabled to of her arrival in them to address tters to her to your with you?” ne without me.” ald Lorrimer, contemplating a puzzled expres- was actually on board millionaire, passenger list.” % the paper from her and ed i it might have been a ¢ ment in evidence that he would pres- ¢ hand up to the bench. “Ton’t sea the name of Philip Gre: = which for a moment flurried think he suspected her. cted list,” she satd, e second roli of passen- no nen. But why these tr Sulas - w 1 was asking myself,” Zella er side. “I suppose I nen shortly; to-mor- esent she is not quite well; rather h London, I think—" as disappointed some travel- =aid Zella, with a touch rity in her manner. “My cousin to Eastbourne or Bournes f is advised that the P 2 for her.” She Is 1 sed no doubt. And n v can » for you, Mr. Grey? Or for Miss tween now an wher me with a call?"” e to es*ablish the such a way as the 4 uments at pres- her with certain Platts Valley mines, thousand dollars, »eited for her this morn- Morgan & Co. Brunnen’s confidence aid Lorrimer, opening an placing the documents & en has the very highest nic >u and your firm, sir.” We strive to justify her good = Grey,” he sald, locking the safe, leaving his table desk and passing round to the side of the room where she was “And I think that brings terview to an end.” . @ cold chill at take her leav ite, please,” said toné of voice and iner that surprised her, t us shake hands.” nd in a perfunctor:; vressed it cordially He London* Welcome 1o It is your first visit, T understand. As a stranger and the cc ¥ nteres client I shall hope to show you some little hospitality. 1 have been twice in America and never Jose an opportunity of showing my grati- tude to your people for their kindness 1o = by returning some of it to any Ameri. n who may bring me an introduction. Moreover, we have otber ties, Mr. Gre One of the best fellows that ever v engaged to be married to your cousin, was a dear f ol mine. His dna!\': ouched me deeply.” lowered her lked about the room. She must be a wonderful ereature, this Zella Brunnen, “he continued; *a beaut: abnormally clever, a Lnguist, an athlete, with a romantic career: her father g great woldier—I am quoting Glover's let- poor fellow was madly in love vet he never toid me that she writing girl in Dexter’s office.” That lowers her very mueh in your estimation, 1 suppose?’ said Zella, sum- moning all her presence of mind and men- tal resource under the pressure of other feelings than her remark indicated, which were awakened by Lorrimer’s references to Glover’s love for her., “Not at all, I assure you,” said Lorri- mer. “In London it would have ruined her social status; In America you take a higher and better view of socjal worth end the career Of a clever woman. But there, Mr. Grey, I must not keep you now, nor must you keep me. I have sev- eral clients waiting to see me. A both- ering and exciting business, you know, law, whether one is English or Ameri- can; but I want you to promise that ycu 1y eves. Lorrimer will dine with me to-night. Now, don’t £ay you are otherwise engaged. I have s0 much to say to you and you must have plenty to say to me. E.ght o'clock at the Sherldan Club, eh?” you,” said Zella, “you are “Not at all; the kindness will be on your side. The Sheridan is close to Covent Garden? But every cabman knows it. Where are you staying, may I ask?” “At the Grand Hotel,” said Zella. “Only a walk to the Sheridan. Then, I shall expect you?” “I will be there,” saia Zella. And she was there, punctually; and with considerably revised opinions of both Lor- rimer and London from those he and the great city had at first inspired. During the day she had found her way to West- minster and the Thames embankment, to Oliver Goldsmith’s grave in the Temple, to St. Paul's completing her experiences in an open barouche, provided by the ho- tel, along the Mall and Piccadilly to the Park. April was verging into May. It was nearing the height of the London season. The sun shone warm on the gray streets. Every other shop seemed to be a goldsmith's, or to flash with silver, when it was not bright with flowers or gay with costly fabrics and pictures. Here and there the Stars and Stripes flaunted high up against the blue sky, making her heart beat the quicker. Oh, if Ned Glover could have been by her eide! Sometimes she thought he was. Once she was sure she heard his voice. It was like a joyous whisper of content that she should at last have seen his beautiful London, from which Fleet street had ban- ished him, but to which he had meant to return a conqueror, hand in hand with the lovellest woman in the world. In Pall Mall Zella met a squadron of cavalry, marching to the strains of their fine mounted band. Some special function was being celebrated, she thought. Other flags were flying from the ciub houses, Her coachman had to pull up near St. James Palace. More troops came swing- ing round into Pall Mall, from the Park. The sight of the worn old historic pile, the inspiring straing of the military band, followed presently by the wild swirl of the bagpipes and the tramp of a company of Gordon Highlanders overcame her; she had to mop her face with her handker- chief. * * * Her carriage now threaded its way along St. James street; and it seemed to her that the entire region was peopled with ghosts of past days, ghosts of buildings,ghosts of great events, ghosts of famous people, ghosts of her mother's ncestors, the dead, patient little woman she just remembered, with her sweet inglish voice; the ghosts of Glover's for- bears, and the realities, too, of the Lon- don he was to reveal to her. Then round into Piccadlily, with scores of equipages, beautiful women in gorgeous attire, pow- dered footmen, smart victorias, family chariots with armorially decorated pan- s, and on the pavement a well-dressed throng of pedestrians. On one hand the Green Park, on the other a row of pal- aces. Then Wellington on his horse and the four typical warriors at the base of the equestrian figure, recalling memories of her father's oft-repeated saying, “Almost the only people we ever fought were your English mother's countrymen, and in whom Prussia never had braver or truer allies; a great people, the English.” ¢ * ¢ Oh, that he, or her mother or- Ned, or some dear friend, were with her—even Mr. Storey or Glencoe or Bridget—that she might have some one to'speak to, some one with whom she might relieve, in words, the deep emotions of her heart. Sho seemed so lonely amidst the great and brilliant crowd. She had never imag- ined anvthing so jmposing as Hyde Park, with its procession of carriages, three or four abreast, and its splendid ar- T of horses, its superb tollets, its 1dsome women, its gallant men and its multitude of gayly attired peoplé on the sidewalks, the brilliant array of sun- shades and parasols, backed by orna- mental trees in the first freskness of spring leaves, and here and there great patches of crocuses ana tulips. A new world to Zella. * * * Presently, in obe- dienca to an official hand, the autocrat of the streets, there was 2 gradual suspen- sion of movement, a passage way was made, a number of outriders cantered by; then every hat was ed, and it seemed to Zella as if every lady rose to her feet. A carriage, drawn by four white horses ridden by postillions, came along., An elderly lady was bowing right and left, with a young demoiselle by her side and on the opposite seat an officer in a bright uniform. The elderly. lady was bowing right and left, a pleasant smile lighting up a benevolent face; it was her Majesty the Queen of England, with the Princess Beatrice and the Duke of Connaught, Zella at once guessed it was the Queen, and as her Majesty left the park she heard the great burst of cheering that greeted her at Hyde Park Corner and fol- lowed her on her way to Buckingham palace, where, the coachman told her, the Queen was to stay the night. *“A great event for London,” he said. “‘Her Majesty don’t care for Buckin'em Palace, but London loves her just the same.” CHAPTER XLIIIL DICK LORRIMER AND HIS GUEST. But, oh, she was very lonely! The one reed that she had looked to lean upon in London broke at the first touch. If only Ned's friend, Lorrimer, had said even a few sympathetic notliings to her. It was true he had unbent at last; it was true she was going to dine with him; it was true he had expressed an intention to be kind to her and show her some hospital- ity; but, oh, she was sad and lonely! It had even been a relief to speak with the coachman. She wondered if it had not been better to have come as herself, Zella Brunnen. In that position she would as- suredly have commanded at least the gentier attentions of Richard Lorrimer. How disappointed she was in him! Not in his appearance. He was not what might be called handsome; but he had fine eyes, his manners were refined, he was evidently a gentleman, Zeila little knew what an impression she had made on Lorrimer. “What a hand- some youngster!” he had sald to himself, as ht walked from his office in the after- noon, for a cup of tea at his club and to order dinnef, and then to his chambers in Whitehall Court. *“If Miss Zella Brun- nen is anything like Philip Grey she is all poor Ned described her. And clever, too, by Joye! For a minute it seemed as if 1 was cross-examining him in court; but the rest of the time 1 felt as if he were cross-examining me! Hang me, if I ever remember being %o impressed with a young fellow! "And he has just a bit of music in his American accent that one potices in a cultivated Scotchman’s soup- con of dialect; or une of our dear Irish girl's touch of the brogue. His ‘I guess’ was fairly musical. Well-dressed, too’ They say America isn't great in tailoring, but Poole couldn’'t bave made a better frockcoat, nor old Sandeman better fitting breeches. Well, we shall see if he jm- proves on acquaintance.” Zella, having no idea that she had made a good impression on Ned's dearest friend, did not look forward to meeting him again with any great expectations of relief from the gloom that was sett)ing down upon her, notwithstanding the glory of the London streets and the pageantry of the park. Perhaps the very brightness of the strange city, blossom- ing into jts annual season of fashion and furbelows, of gayeties and soclal func- tions, of balls and parties, of plays and ’ \ players, of picture exhibitions, of royal levees, and the time for debutantes and soclety, weddings and aristocratic high- Jinks, had got upon her nerves. She had never before felt so solitary. The lake of Chicago, miles and miles* away from shore, the woods of Platts Valley, silent as the grave, had never once seemed lone- 1y; nor had the great prairie over which she had roamed, beyond Chicago’'s furthest outposts; nor the vast wastes she remembered, when a girl, on the skirts of the frontier, made a solitude to her 86 profound as London, with all its hum of volces, the thunder of its streets and the multitudes of its people. “We don’t treat strangers as hospitably in our clubs as you do in America,” said Lorrimer, when they had adjourned to the smoking-room of the Sheridan. “You give us the run of your entire house; we set apart special rooms for you—'streng- ers’ rooms’ we call them—and we treat you as ¢®angers. It is a survival of an old custom of clubs, like a bit of the Brit- ish constitution; it seems to work fairly well, however. We are a conservative people and an exclusive.” “I don't know much of club life,”" said Zella; *“your rooms seem to me to be very charming; I havc never seen any 80 crowded with pictures; and, I may say, without, I hope, offense, that the dinner was excellent, the fish remarkable. the souffiet perfect. 1 am not sure that it 1s what you call the right thing for a guest to comment on his entertainment.” “Oh! yes, quite the correct thing, I as- sure you,” said Lorrimer, with a laugh. “And now what will you take with your coffee? Benedictine, chartreuse, kum- mel?” “A little benedictine, thank you,” said Zella, taking out her cigarette case. “Won't you smoke a eigar?” “No, thank you. I am not a great smoker, and 1 generally carry my own mild cigarettes.” “Well, as you please. May I join you? A cigarette is a good preliminary to a cgia passed her case, and Lorrimer commended tha fiavor of the tobacco. “Few strangers dining to-night,” he said, * and they all appear to be going to the opera—a Pattl night. We might have gone, but 1 thought we would have a quiet chat. And we are in the way of it; evidently got the emoking room to our- selves. I hope Miss Brunngn is better?” “Yes, thank you. She 'seems to feel lonely; 1 suppose one does in a strange city, where one has no friends." “But she shall make friends. My sister shall call upon her. My sister's a rare gossip; knows everybody worth knowing; a regular gadabout, but as good a crea- ture as ever lived. Single, like myself; but the liveliest old mald Imaginable. Could have married a dozen times; is only forty now, and lobks twenty. I am sure Brunnen will like her; and you, too. ve’l] soon surround both of you with was amazed at the change in Lor- rimer—“Dick,”” as one or two clubmen called him, men who were entertaining strangers. He was full of high spirits; natural, unstrained; and his laugh was fairly catching. With Lorrimer's exuber- ance Zella's spirits rose, and she detected, fer the first time, something of the brogue he had himself spoken of in his speech. He was an Irishman, who knew nothing of Ireland; had never set foot in it since he left it as a lad, and was never sus- pected of his nationality,. He was not ashamed of it; but be was at heart a Lon- doner, by instinct and habits a very Cock- ney; knew London inside out, and could quote you almost every poetic tribute the Muses had ever paid to it. “You are not a marrying family, then?" sald Zella; so like a woman to take hold of this casually dropped word about mar- riage. “My youngest sister is marrfed, and T have a brother living happily In that pleasant state. As for myself, well, 1 have never seen my fate. You haven't a sister, eh ™’ “No. Why?"” “Life is full of surprises. I shouldn’t have wondered that, if you had a sister, she might have iafluenced my destiny,’” and he laughed heartily at the notion. ““That confirmed old bachelor, Richard Lorrimer,” he said, “to Miss Emily or Elmira, or Jane, or whatever it might be, Grey, at St. George's, Hanover Square: no cards! Sounds interesting, eh?” “Then I may conclude you do not dis- approve of Philip Grey? "And I thought you hated me this morning."” “Was 1 so horribly brutal? me I am low, in business; positively low, don’t you know!" And hé fixed his eye- glass at Zella; not defiantly, but with a kind of apologetic meekness. “You have made up for it since, Mr. Lorrimer. And I am much indebted to you; for I was very lonely and depressed when I came here to dinner.” “Were you, now? And it was my fault. I must really try and correct that infernal professional habit of “mine.” He dropped his glass, almost indignant- ly, and turned to light a cigar. “Oh! no; you are not to blame in tha least. I feit lonely, that is all;) and—" Oh! by the way,” he said ' suddenly, that comes of separating one's self so entirely from business when one leaves it; 1 had forgotten a most important thing. 1 positively believe, sometimes, my dear Mr. Grey, that I am two per- sons—one a confounded martinet in the bonds of red tape, and the other a thoughtless idiot. 1 make it a rule never to talk shop when I'm out of it; but there are exceptions to every rule. Here's a cable 1 received only an hour ago. My friend, Straker, considered it of sufficlent importance to send it to my chambers, with instructions that if I was not at home it was to be sent to the club. I thrust it into my pocket. And here it is, by Jove! Can Miss Brunnen stand a shock? Not a dipagreeable one, mind ¥ but a shock, nevertheless?" I guess she’s just about As nervous as I am. What is 1t2" said Zella. “Shall T read it?” asked Lorrimer, un- folding a cablo message. “It's great news; but joy hurts, as well as pain, they say. And 1 suspect you will feel very elated, though you ‘are only her cousin:” They tell L R i i e e B S S THE SUNDAY CALL. “Please read it,” sald Zella. “Hildyards, Chicago, to Straker, Love &nd Lorrimer. Acquaint Zella Brunnen With the fact that Dexter has bequeathed to her one-half of his real and personal estate, which s expected to realize not less than ten million dollars.” CHAPTER XLIV. MYSTIC DOMINION CLOTHES. Zella found it more and more embar- Tassing to maintain her disguise. . She carried it off well enough. No one ever for a moment suspected her. If her mas- culine courage and physique had been put to the test we know how well she could have acquitted herself. But behind her mask there was a true woman. If she wore her breeches with a manly air she could wear her petticoat with a finer grace. Her womanly instincts, let aloné her conscience, began to trouble her. There was reason and courage and even nobility in her masculine armor, when it was donned for love of Ned Glover and justice to his memory; but what would he have thought of her masquerading about London as Philip Grey? This re- flection haunted her. She began to de- spise herself, all the more so that she had to confess she was enjoying her wander- ings about the great town. The shops were a perpetual wonder to her. Now and then, as a young man, she found herself taking an undue interest in the drapers’ and millinery stores. Then she blushed and hurried on, as if she had betrayed herself. The jewelry stores amazed and delighted her. Where ¢ould all the won- derful and beautiful things come from? ‘What a rich country it must be, with cus- tomers sufficient to keep such warehouses going! And the book shops, the picture galleries, the collections of bric-a-brac—in short, the engrossing things that were to be seen for nothing; the British Museunr, that made her head ache; South Kensing- ton, that made her legs ache, and slums that made her heart ache. ‘What a strange, contradictory town It was! She walked about Fleet street, won- dering from which newspaper office Ned Glover had been discharged. She asked a policeman: to direct her to the Daily Times; but there was the Times, and with his guidance ghe eventually found her way to Printing House square. The Times! There it was! It looked just the kind of hard and matter-of-fact building that would inclose the sort of editor who drove Ned out into the world bevond the sea. Then she remembered that but for the Times discipline she would never have known the English journalist. Would it have been better never to have known him than to love him and to lose him as she had lost him—and at the hands of an infamous countryman of her own? One night she heard the bells of St. Clement Danes. She asked a policeman. Never once had she wanted to know anything that a policeman had not told her and with a courtesy that, compared with Chi- cago and New York, was as if London policemen had been trained in a school of good manners, On that night when, losing her fear, she stood for a few min- utes at Piccadilly Circus after an even- ing at the theater she had heard young men chaff policemen to such an extent that she had expected every moment to see them beaten to death. If they had sald one tithe of what they sald to Lon- don officers to New York or Chicago men they would first have been clubbed into insensibility and then dragged to the near- est police station. Downing street, the official residence of the great Minister, was easy to find, though it did not convey to Zella’s mind anything ke the Arablan Nlghts' scene Ned had depicted. It is true she had only the exterior of the place to go by, but the broad street that led to it, the imposing sentinels of the Horse Guards, the For- eign Office on the right, the sad, sad win- dow on the left, where the poor foolish King had stepped out to the headsman, the Abbey beyond, the palace of Parlia- ment, the historic Thames, Westminster bridge, the view up and down the river, the bright blue sky, the happy faces of the people, the enormous trafic—it was far beyond anything Ned Glover had promised her, She held her course hititer and thither 4s one in a dream or as one who had died and had arrived in another world. Oh, if that might have been and Ned was there, * * * She walked along the Thames embankment and paused by the Obelisk to say to herself in very con- ventional commionplace words, ‘“What does it matter? It all comes to naught. By comparigon one's life is no more than a butterfiy’s; just a passing day, and then vou are forgotten. * * * But how much happiness may be compressed into one day; if not for one's self for others. ® * * What shall I do with that money of Dexter's? * * * First, with its magic wand convert Parkside into a palace and Bridget into the queen thereof, with Old Glencoe, Mrs. Ferguson and the Senator for Kentucky as princely guests. Poor Bridget! She can have but few more years to live; but they shall be happy years if money is the tallsman they say, but which I take leave to doubt. * * * And then we'li see what Mr. Storey lacks to make the Mail the journal of his high- est ambitlon; and low to make Joe Wil- liams happy. in spite of his being out of the way when most I required him for the Women's Athletic Club. * * * And then, oh, for Old Prudent's Gulch, the Valley, and Blind Man's Drift and the Ridge! * * ¢ Mr. Storey shall advise me. We'll make, the three camps and Old Prudent’s Gulch a city, one and the same, and we'll call it-gwhat shall we call {t? Gloverstown? r Edwinstown. * * * It shall be put to the vote. Dankes, and Céptain Dan, and/Dave and Storey shall decide, and Old Gleacoe shall have a voice in it, and he shall go along with the bosses nd advisers, and the engineers and the awyers, when I make my re-entry into Colorado as Zella Brunnen!" ““Hello! Where the blazes are you a- shovin’ 107" exclaimed a voice from the real world which she had forgotten. | “I Beg your pardon,” she sald, with a startled glance at the man she had run into, staggering under a load of publica- “THE OF tions hot from the press; for Zella had turned into one of the slde streets toward the Strand. “I should think so, you young hass!" he exclalmed, as he gathered himself and his. load together. Zella, full of her schemes for the fu- ture, made her way into the Strand, and thence to her hotel. She ordered her bill. ‘Then she went to her room. She began to overhaul her trunks. She paid her bill but she did not give up her rooms. She would speak with the manager, she said. Then she went out, and made many pur- chases. Hitherto she had not been able to make up her mind what kind of pres- ents she would take home, for Bridget and the Parkside people; for the Man- ageress of the Athletic Club, for the two professors, for Mr. Storey, for Joe Will- iams, for her partner Dankes, for Cap- tain Dan, for Dave, and for Mickey, who had “Hoorroohed after poor “Ned and wished him luck. * * * Bhe found that she would require a large sum of money the next day from Lorrimer. The account of Philip Grey was gettmg low at the National Provincial Bank. Drexel, Mor- gan & Co. had cashed Zella's latest draft. But Phillp, it is hardly necessary to say, could sign Zella’s name for any amount. Lorrimier had intimated that, apart from the deposit Philip Grey had made on her behalf and the securitles in his hands, Miss Brunnen's name was good for any amount that her cousin might require. Zella had kept up the reality of her own position and personality by correspon- dence with great care and skill. She had even gone down to Eastbourne once to mail two letters thence to Straker, Love and Lorrimer: but, as Philip, she generally received instructions by letter direct, and as Philip she had sent Zella’ letters to her ‘“dear cousin Phil” on to Lorrimer. One day Lorrimer asked her what Miss Brunnen would be likely to do with the great wealth which had been be- queathed her. As Philip she had replied that really neither of them cared much about money; it was quite possible that Zella would hand the disposition of it over to bim (Philip), but of course he should consult her in everything, and he should not be at all surprised that she would de- vote a great deal of It to some national purpose. Taking this magnanimous view of Miss Brunnen's dealing with her great fortune, Philip Grey had gone up tremen- dously “in Lorrimer's good opinion. In- deed, Lorrimer had quite bored his sister ard one or two friends with his constant references. to the young American; no wonder America was the nation it was when It could boast of such sons as Philip Grey, who combined in his character ail the reverence that culture should have for art and literature and antiquities of the Old World with all that was high- minded and progressive and young and hopeful and ambitious in the New! It was a busy night with Zella. Until quite late she was at packing and unpack- ing. writing letters and looking at time- tables and asking questions. She was evidently bent upon flight. CHAPTER XLV. “ALL ABOARD!" They were all very early birds at Bed- ford row, lawyers and sparrows; and the spring adjacent trees came out as, green and chirpy as if they were country born and bred. Mr. Richard Lorrimer took his seat be- fore a heavy mail and flashed his eye- glass at it with a sprightliness quite in keeping with the exhilarating morning. A shcrthand clerk sat opposite to him. Mr. Lorrimer thrust a small silver paperknife into the envelopes, and almost simultan- eously seemed to dictate his replies. As he rattled on he laid aside several letters and telegrams addressed to the care of the firm. These were for Miss Zella Brun- nen. After dealing with the pile of cor- respondence he turned them over curious- 1y and looked at their postmarks. They ‘were all from Chicago, letters and cables. One of them was addressed “Phillp Grey."” There was no reason why that should strike him as odd, but it did. “Herewlth T send you two letters and cables for Miss Brunnen,” he eaid, dic- tating to his clerk a note to Philip Grey, “and a table for yourself. Will you kind- ly .forward the former to your cousin, Miss Zella Brunnen, and say how much 1 desire to see her. If she does not feel disposed to come up to town I will wait upon her at Bournemouth or Eastbourne, or anywhere else she may appoint. Ques- tlons must presently arise of importance in connection with her property in Platts Valley and Prudents Guich, and Miss Brunnen's still more important inherit- ance under the late Hiram Dexter's will —auestions _which we (Miss Brunnen, yourself and myself) should discuss to- gether. I am not now writing for the firm, but simply between ourselves; and 1 therefore add that, if Miss Brunnen would care to have some friends of mine at Eastbourne call upon her, I shall be delighted to try and make the city by the sea more cheerful than it can be with, as you tell me, only one visitor, and that a medical man. Also, let me say how pleased T shall be if you will dine with me at the club to-night, to meet one or two fellows, whose acquaintance may be agreeable to you.” “Transcribe that at once, and let me have it.” “Yes, sir,” sald the clerk, and left the room. 5 “I find myself growing very curious about this remarkable young lady,” said Lorrimer to himself. *“‘Not sick,’ Grey says, ‘but fanciful; not yet recovered from the shock of Ned Glover's death, though she finds the change is doing her good.' A woman in ten thousand, evidently. ‘Writes a capital letter, well-educated, and has quite a pretty way of turning a sen- tence; a fine bold hand, too! Poor Ned, to arrive, with wealth and beauty and every- thing a man can desire, and be wrecked in port! It makes one's heart bleed. Won- der how much the young lady Is like her cousin? Grey says she is very like him. An odd thing for Grey to say, when he hasn't an atom of vanity; and Zella Brunnen is a beauty! Well, if she's as good a fellow, using the term in its best sense, as he is, why, heaven has been bountiful to what they call ‘the great and glorious West.’ " B S ] TYPEWRITER VERSUS THE BEN. SCIENTISTS SAY COMPOSITION EASIER WITH THE LATTER. literary men, scientists, phy- ANY icians and others whose profes- sions involve a large amount of writing, and who have found really competent amanuenses too expen- sive, have turned to the typewriter to af- ford them relief from the irksome labor of using the pen continuously for long pe- riods. In some exceptional cases the change has proved satisfactory, but the great majority find that even after they have acquired considerable proficlency in the operation of the machine their ideas flow far less readily than when they write their old, accustomed way. Various explanations have been offered for this curious phenomenon, among them being that persons accustomed to £eeing before them what they have writ- ten are at sea to some extent when de- prived of this advantage, added to which the monotonous clicking of the keys acts it Germany, the lan of scleritists excellence, where the typewriter has not been in general use so long as in America, S % the same difficulty has been experienced, and ‘at & recent donference of Physicians in Halle the matter was made the sub- Ject of exhaustive Many rea- Ry, daveneed, M 8, ot £ was laid on the diffculty of readily mak- i “insertions 3 'n‘{l}tuee--.ry elisions, ins lons. P These, however, are, mechanical dnwfiu::fi seem, might be rea after all, m hieh it "would overcome necessarily The heory advanced > 2 05 s 'm..: as half of the body is cont: mul?fit of the brain on o] te ', the t hand 1s controlled the Jeft oé the brain. In writi "%h-. . the le: band remains at r% us only the left side of the brain is called into requisition. In tion to con the mere me- chanical action of wri . the left lobe of the brain also contains the center found study Accordin “oluiion'darths the et of IS VERY MUCH ing, o be in that m&“;t‘ the brain, and training constant P el e ey e Bt o to perform these mnca:n: ow, r writer, th Conseq 'y had left his chair, and walked about th!:emom as he soliloquized, and would evidently have gone on neglecting his business ever so long, but for the return of his clerk with the transcript of his let- ter to.Philip Grey. He read It over, signed it, placed it, with the letters and telegrams to which it referred, in a large envelope, which he directed and sealed. “By messenger, at once, to Mr. Phillp Grey, Grand Hotel,” he said, hnndlng”lt to his clerk, “and wait for an answer. As the clerk left the room the liveried porter, who seemed to have caught the lively spirit of the morning, entered with an elastic step and head erect to an- nounce, ‘Two gentlemen, without an ap- pointment, but must see you, they say; all the way from Chicago for that purpose— Mr. Amos V. Storey and Mr. Joseph Will- iams, and Mr. Willlams has an introduc- tion to you from the late Mr. Edwin Glo- ver.”" Indeed; 1s that so? Well, well, show ‘them in,” sald Lorrimer, not attempting to conceal his surprise. “Yes, sir,” said the porter, who re- turned almost immediately, ushering in, with much ceremony, the American detec- tive, and the editor-proprietor of the Chi- cago Daily Mail. “Good morning, gentlemen,” sald Lorri- mer, going forward to meet them, with more of the manner of “Dick” than of Richard Lorrimer. “I am glad to see you.” “I am Storey,” sald the Chicago jour- nalist, “and this {s my friend, Mr. Wil- liams, the head of the Secret Service De- partment of Washington, recently ap- pointed from Chicago.” Lorrimer put out his hand and wel- comed his visitors with unusual genfality, though he staggered Storey for a moment with a critical survey through his mon- ocle. They were a remarkable pair, as the reader well knows. Storey and Williams: Story, long, bony, angular, but with a fine head and a strong. frank face; Wil- llams, dapper, smart, alert and “dressy™ —*“decidedly dressy”—as Story had com- mented, when they et accidentally at the Langham, Storey just arrived from Chicago and Willlams from Vienna. Dur- ing his absence he had been appointed to Washington, and Storey had been, furthermore, glad to learn that the case wuich bad called him away from America had come to a satisfactory conclusion, giving Willtams both kudos and money. They had very surprising stories to tell each other, and they were now about to very much astonish the popular junior partner of Straker, Love and Lorrimer. “Often heard of you, from my dear frienu, Glover,” said Willlams. ‘“‘Seems like a message from the dead to present his card to you and his few words of in- troduction.” “Indeed, it does,” sald Lorrimer. “Hes mentioned you to me in one of the very few letters I received from him.” “He had no better friend that Mr. Storey,” sald Williams. “And Mr. Storey never had a more promising recruit from your side the fer- ry, sir. Would have made a great posi- tion, if—but, Lord, life is full of ifs!— what's the good of speculating on what might have been! No use in grumbling over the past. No time, either, with the call of tne future constantly ringing in v-ur ears! * ¢ * Well, now, Mr. Lor- rimer, we are anxious to see Miss Brun- nen. I suppose you know that I am one of the trustees under Edwin Glover's will, and that I have interests in connection with Dexter's will that jump somewhat with her own: but, apart from all this, I would say that I and my wife, Mrs. Storey, have a deep and affectionate re- gard for the girl.” “Part of which I know, sir: and all of which interests me,” sald Lorrimer. “And where is Miss Brunoen, may I ask?" sald Storey. “At Eastbourne, I believe,” Lorrimer re- plied. “At Eastbourne, eh? And when, sir, 4id you see her last?” “I have not seen her at all.” “Not seen her!” exclaimed Storey and Williams together. “Excuse me,” =aid Storey, “i I seem to be too curious, but how do you know she is at Eastbourne?” “I have seen letters from her; and her cousin. Mr. Philip Grey, is in daily com- munication with her.” “Really! Is he, indeed?” said Storey, unable to control his laughter. “Her cousin, Mr. Philip Grey, is in daily corre- spondence with her,’ eh, Joe™" He turned his beaming face to the de- tective, and they both laughed heartily. Lorrimer, his glass glued to his eye, con- templated them with anything but an ap- proving expression. “Really, gentlemen,” he sald, “if there is a joke going I may be glad to particl- pate in your mirth, if I am permitted to share your secret?” “Forgive our seeming rudeness, Mr. Lorrimer. Don't get mad, sir,” sald Stor- ey, sitting-down and fairly shaking with laughter. “Mr. Storey Is not given to fits of this kind, I assure you,” sald Williams, “and my profession is almost as serlous as your own; so you may conclude there is a joke lying around somewhere,” sald ‘Williams. “Look here, Mr. Lorrimer,” said Storey, pulling out a Denver newspaper from his coat pocket; “just throw your eye over that, while we survey Bedford row from your window." He directed Lorrimer's attention to a heavily headlined half-page of the paper, and Lorrimer read: “THE ROMANCE OF PLATTS VALLEY-—Vengeance fis mine, saith the American Girl—The Mur- derer of Edwin Glover Brought to Book —ZELLA BRUNNEN, the Lady Athlete, IN MALE ATTIRE—A Heroine in Breeches—Duel to the Death with Bow- ies—History of the Long and Deadly Knife—Tributes of Admiration from the Camps—CAPTAIN DAN and OLD PRU- DENT—ZELLA BRUNNEN'S Leave- taking—Sails for Europe—How the Camps Promised to Keep Her SECRET; How an Enterprising Reporter Rooted It Out—Good Luck to Zella, and a Safe Re- turn!” He stood poring over the paper, intense- Iy engrossed, for nearly half an hour. His face was a study. Both Willlams and ‘Btorey turned from the window to watch t. “Don’t seem to want his old pane of glass to read by,” remarked Storey, in a ‘Whisper. “More show than use, I guess,” said Willlams. “Gives a feller time to think; takes off his opponent’s attention.” "By Jupiter! What a time he's having!"” sald Storey. “It's as good as a play. just only lock at him. ‘Philip Grey in daily correspondence with Zella!' Great Scott, what a comedy, eh?" “Like the cheap theaters up in the East End there. I must take yoéu to ome. Tragedy first, comic plece to follow. Poor Glover! What a treasure he lost.” “A woman, by all that's wonderful!™ exclaimed Lorrimer, his face flushed, his eyeglass dangling at the back of his neck; his hands shaking, 2s he laid the paper down. “A woman! What an ass I have been! And I had got to like the young- ster. Have you seen Phillp Grey—I mean Miss Brunnen as Philip Grey?" “No!" they both exclaimed. “Then you may not think me such an ass as I feel myself to be.” A “It may well make you feel »” Williams. “I should want to'&k ::! self if I'd been done to that extent.” “I don't quite know how I feel™ satl Lorrimer. “I am a as good-lookinT as himself and ag pleas- ant and companionable, the fact might possibly have a serious Influencs on my destiny.” . “My dear sir,” sald Storey, “tha girl couldn’t help being lovely, whataver char- acter she might assume. If Miss Brunnen is in Eastbourne, whers is Mr. Philip Grey?” “At the Grand Hotel” =ald Lorrtmer. “I have only just sent some letters and cables. to him—er—I mean, to her. My dear sirs, both of you, I beg you won't talk about this; I mean. so far as I am concerned; I shall be the laughing-stock of the town.” “That goes, Mr. Lorrimer. An¢ know as it would bs good for 7 Rave it known In Chicago she carried ner masquerade further than her splendid act of love and vengeance."” “I assure you, gentlemen, she—er has been most circumspect, deiicate and discreet”— “Why, of course,” sald Storey. “Not a better girl Iives, not more reflned an Amazon; eh, Joe?" “That’s so; but, as you say, an Amazon after all. And 1 speak from practical knowledge. "Como‘ulr\ng. Mr. Lorrimer. What do you say? Will you join us? ‘I propose to Ro straightway to the Grand Hotel.” “Do you think we ought to go without letting Mr. Grey—er—I mean. the lady— know of our intention to call?™ ‘Why, certainly! Do you think we should find her otherwise?” “No, sir; no warning. We are her friends, and I have the dignity of being one of her trustees. Can't we call a cab? A cab was called, and stralghtway, as Mr. Storey had proposed, they went to the Grand. “Mr. Philip Grey,” sald Lorrimer at the desk, “is he in?" “Mr. Phillp-Grey left the hotel late last night,” said the clerk. “Left!” exclaimed Storey. “Where for?” “Eastbourne. Beg pardon, but is one of you gentlemen named Mr. Joseph Wil lams “Yes. Why?" Willlams replied. “You telegraphed here from Paris?" “Yes, sir; and Mr. Grey was at the desk talking to the clerk when your message came, and he said he knew you and that you would probably call upon him; and that it you 4id so, whether he was in or out, you should be shown to his sitting- reom.” “Then he has not given up his rooms”” “No; he has been expecting his cousin to occupy them. But piease to go upD. Boy ™ “Yes, sir.” “Show these gentlemen to Mr. Grey's room.” - And away they went to the elevator, less jubilant than before, but more pus- zled. “The bird’s flown,” sald Storey: “all through you, you dudel Why couldn't you have wired to every other hotel ex- cept the Grand > “I have stayed here several times." “Confound you!" saia Storey. The boy knocked at the door. “Come!” sal@ a voice from within. The boy opened the door and stood aside. The three visitors, each pushing with a certaln timidity to give the other first place, stepped in. As they entered a handsome and stately lady came forward to receive them. There was nothing of the Amazon in her appearance. As in her beautiful face, so in her dress, there was a note of serious- ness. Her gown was of white crepe de chine; a trailing gown, that at the same time set rather close to her graceful figure. It was white, with a white fichu, edged with black velvet ribbon. At her walstbelt she wore a bouquet of violets, and around her neck a biack band with a dlamond pendant. Her wealth of hair was tied up In a knot, high upon her head. The general effect of her appearance was that of a young lady of distinction, whose beauty needed.no astificial aids. Storey, for a moment, hardly knew the handsome young woman of Parkside, and Lorrimer and the other visitors were each equally amazed. Taking them all into one welcoming, but surprised survey, Zella exclalmed, her face wreathed in smiles, “Why, Mr. Storey! And Mr. Willlams! Well, this is delightful. I am real glad to ses you! She took both their hands and shook them heartily. They sald nothing; but looked around at Lorrimer. “Mr. Lorrimer, I guess I don't know whether to be glad to see you or not,” she sald. “I fear you will never forgive me; indeed, I can hardly forgive myself.” Miss Zella Brunnen.” said Lorrimer, ‘there’s nathing in the wide world I could rot forgive you! You well nigh made a willing slave of me as Phillp Grey; but as Zella Brunnen! Well, there, I don't know what to say to you!" “Only say you don't despise me, Mr. Lorrimer,” sald Zella, putting out her hand, her lip trembling as she spoke, “Despise you!" he exciatmed, pressing his lips to her hand. “I admire you be- yond all women—I love you.” For the moment Lorrimer was quite ob- livious of the presence of Storey and ‘Willlams. They had been too much taken aback by the appearance of Zella, and the perfectly calm and graclous way in which she had received them—*like i queen in her own »ight,” as Storey re- marked afterward—that they “gave the London lawyer the floor,” as Williams ob- served. And Lorrimer made the best of his opportunity. “Whatever your feelings may be, Miss Zella, in regard to that rash, and per- haps unpardonable, declaration, don’t dis- miss me; let me help you. I will devote my life to your interests, and never again annoy you with any reference to my ad- miration for your person, or—"" “Speak of it some other time, Mr. Lor- rimer,” she said, interrupting him—*a year hence, perhaps. I am not angry; I am proud of your good opinton.” Then, turning to her other visitors, she, sald, “Arid now, Mr. Storey, and dear Mr, ‘Willlams, though you were not on hand * when I wanted you badly—' “Which will remain the one deep re- gret of my life,” said Wiljams. “Do you think Chicago &ill forgive me?” “Chicago will raise a statue to you,” said Storey. “But it was too bad to dis- appoint us: we wanted to be introduced to Mr. Philip Grey. How did you know your secret had been annexed by that all- fired Denver reporter?’ “I had wired my address to Solomon Dankes, and last night I received a letter from him, denouncing that truthful his- torian, but at the same time sending me the report, which, under the eircum- stances, the dear oid fellow says, was not 80 bad, and gave me wnat Platts Valley considered to be a gcod send-off, though unauthorized, and in resard to which they l'an my instructions.” “Be merciful, as you are - said Storey. o “And when do we return home?" asked Zella. ““Whenever ycu please,” Storey replied, “With you and Mr. Wmh.mst‘:- n‘; e cort?"” “Why, certainly,” sald Williams. “I have important business in America.” sald er. “Won't you permit me to be one of the company?" “‘Oh, yes, certainly; by all means.” Zeila replied. “What do you say, Mr. Storey?” . Whatever you say, my child.” “Then all go away, and pack. T am dy- Ing to see Parkside and dear old Bridget once more. and longing to begin the transformation of Platts Valley and Blind Man'’s Drift” THE END. I