:nia 
 ,1
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 A STRANGE RECORD
 
 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 By 
 
 MOUNT HOUMAS 
 
 Author of "A Tragic Contract," "A Dreamer's 
 Harvest," etc. 
 
 New York and Washington 
 
 THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 1908
 
 \ 
 
 To the Inmates of 
 
 "STATEN" 
 
 Barbados, W. I. 
 
 In grateful remembrance of a very happy visit
 
 CONTENTS. 
 Chapter. Page. 
 
 2 I Dr. Ethel Leon, 7 
 
 II The Gray Cottage, 20 
 
 >~ III The Evolution of Dr. Ethel Leon, 36 
 
 Si IV The Silly Boy, 62 
 
 V The Mediator, 76 
 
 VI A Cap Which Fitted Many, 90 
 
 VII What Time Did, 1 10 
 
 in VIII Further Developments, 126 
 
 g IX A Master Riddle, 148 
 
 X Seth's Mission, 160 
 
 XI A Gleam of Hope, 178 
 
 <5 XII Its Probing, , ; 195 
 
 XIII Wizard's Work, 209 
 
 ;> XIV Woodlands, 225 
 
 XV Addie, 239 
 
 XVI Till the Sea Gives Up Its Dead, 260 
 
 Lj Epilogue, 275 
 
 452
 
 Copyright, 1908, by 
 The Neale Publishing Company
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 DR. ETHEL LEON 
 
 Dr. Ethel Leon sat in her neat office reading; 
 Dr. Ethel Leon usually spent her office hours thus, 
 and when the hours which her bright door-plate 
 stated would find her at home were over, she, 
 caring little for the social side of life, rambled all 
 over the quaint old town of New Orleans, and / 
 tried to school her impatient spirit into passivity. 
 For Dr. Ethel Leon had been qualified two years, 
 and, except two street accidents, occuring provi 
 dentially in the near neighborhood of her sign, 
 she had not met with any practice. She found her 
 sex a terrible drawback in the profession she had 
 elected to follow, and so keenly enjoyed; and the 
 prejudice against a woman-doctor was a hundredx 
 per cent, stronger in the South than in the North./ 
 If it was gradually dying out, as many were fond 
 of saying, and there really was a promising open 
 ing for women in medicine, Ethel certainly failed 
 to find it. She was probably the pioneer of the 
 lady-doctors in New Orleans. 
 
 Her active, confident spirit chafed at all that 
 was offered to her even the two mites who had 
 fallen to her share had been reluctantly submitted 
 to her skilful ministrations, very palpably faute-
 
 8 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 de-mieux, and had been consigned as quickly as 
 possible to masculine supervision. She shrank 
 from returning to her native North, in spite of its 
 advantage of being less conservative; for the 
 South claimed Ethel body and soul, and all her 
 leanings were tropical. 
 
 She was at Mrs. Rice's boarding-house, of 
 whom she had rented, besides her bedroom, two 
 extra rooms, as office and waiting-room respec 
 tively; and Mrs. Rice had graciously permitted the 
 display of the sign. Indeed Ethel, paying well as 
 she did for all considerations and never grumbling, 
 was regarded as an immense acquisition by the 
 harassed boarding-house keeper. Besides, Mrs. 
 Rice had grown to like the quiet, capable woman, 
 whose reserve was so gentle and dignified that it 
 appealed to your respect and awed away any 
 thought of offence. And so had a great many 
 others. As usual, Ethel had soon made many 
 warm friends. Backed by them, she had boldly 
 fought for several public appointments, but had 
 been always utterly routed. And so the waiting 
 game went on, the most soul-racking game that 
 life can set us to play, and Ethel bore with it as 
 best she could. 
 
 After office hours one afternoon, Ethel went 
 out to' "St. Roches" on one of her customary 
 lonely excursions. She sat for a long time in the 
 tiny, quaint chapel, and marveled over the strength 
 of purpose, the patient perseverance, which had
 
 DR. ETHEL LEON 9 
 
 enabled one poor priest to build it unaided. St. 
 Roche had vowed to build it himself as a thank- 
 offering to God should his flock be spared from 
 one of the terrible epidemics of by-gone days, and 
 they had escaped; and he had kept his big vow, 
 when so many little ones went under. Ethel felt 
 her own sturdy will-power swell within her as she 
 thought admiringly of the faithful priest; why 
 shouldn't she achieve something big too? She felt 
 strong enough, and willing enough, God knows ! 
 She only wanted the opportunity. She looked at 
 the tawdry images round the little altar, particu 
 larly at a ghastly reclining image of the crucified 
 Christ; at the cluster of crutches and other arti 
 ficial supports left there by faith-healed cripples; 
 at the numerous white strips of china bearing 
 "Merci" in big black letters, which grateful bene 
 ficiaries had hung round the altar walls; at the 
 generous offering of candles, flickering and flutter 
 ing in their tin receptacles before the small shrine ; 
 and then she smiled and sighed. She felt rather 
 sadly above it all sadly, because she was con 
 scious that the ignorant superstitious hearts that 
 left those pathetic tokens there were lighter ones 
 than hers. It would be nice, she thought, to be 
 able to kneel down confidently in that quiet spot, 
 and pray for her coveted wide field of labor; and, 
 after spending a few coins on candles and 
 "Mercis" go away with the exhilarating belief 
 that she would get what she had asked for ! She
 
 IO A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 watched a few of the devout visitors, half cur 
 iously, half tenderly ; and envied them their cheer 
 ing faith. For a woman or two, a child or two, 
 and a youth or two had strolled in severally during 
 her long sojourn there; had knelt awhile, and crept 
 away again. The gathering dusk warned Ethel 
 that she, too, must go. 
 
 The chapel stood in a small burial-ground, and 
 she wandered round this before taking her reluc 
 tant leave of the peaceful spot. She paused in a 
 certain place said to have been the grave of a fair 
 * young girl, whose desolate sweetheart had com 
 mitted suicide upon it, and where afterward there 
 ^jl/ sprang up a red-spotted clover to commemorate 
 the tragedy. The grave had been trampled flat, 
 but the blood-stained clover still flourished. Ethel 
 plucked a specimen or two, wondering what 
 natural explanation could account for its peculiar 
 ity and so destroy the pretty romance and thus 
 wondering betook herself home. 
 
 Mrs. Rice's boarding-house was rather a faded 
 and battered, but still stately looking red stone 
 mansion in Prytania Street, possessing the usual 
 plethora of verandas and galleries, and a good bit 
 of garden. Indeed, it stood in the part of the 
 "Crescent City" popularly known as the Garden 
 Y^*^ District. In the good old days it had no doubt 
 been the scene of much hospitality and many a 
 revel, Ethel thought, as she traversed its wide and 
 lofty hall and ascended the staircase to her room. 
 
 V* 4* 
 
 . o- t
 
 DR. ETHEL LEON 1 1 
 
 This latter was, as indeed were all the rooms, of a 
 generous size and height, and its floor was covered 
 by a cool, fresh-looking matting. It boasted of 
 three French windows, now veiled by green shut 
 ters, or jalousies, and opening on to a gallery. 
 The room's big coolness and dimness were grate 
 ful to Ethel, for the weather was glary and sultry. 
 She looked longingly at the great mahogany bed 
 stead enveloped in its snowy mosquito-netting, 
 for she felt fagged in mind and body, with that 
 tiredness and flatness of spirit that "nothing to do" 
 mothers. But the dinner hour was fast approach 
 ing, so she freshened herself up for it instead; and 
 then throwing abck the shutters, she stepped on 
 to the gallery. A big rocking-chair met her gaze 
 invitingly, and she sank into it. Suddenly she said 
 aloud to herself: 
 
 "I don't think, I really don't think, that I can 
 stand this much longer ! I feel less settled, less 
 patient than ever and God knows I've suffered 
 enough already that way ! But my enterprise is 
 lively enough, at any rate. Now, Ethel, there is 
 nobody else to consult wake up ! what shall we 
 do?" 
 
 The discordant clanging of the dinner-bell dis 
 turbed her reflections. She descended at once, glad 
 to put aside her unsatisfactory thoughts. 
 
 The dining-room was a huge apartment, with 
 four full-sized dining tables in it. The numerous 
 boarders quickly assembled, and pleasant greet-
 
 12 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 ings were exchanged. Ethel, after chatting with 
 one or two awhile, took her place at a corner table, 
 and immediately began to speculate over a letter 
 before her in an unknown handwriting. As the 
 lady and gentleman, husband and wife, who faced 
 her, were absorbed in a subdued but evidently bit 
 ter domestic difference, and the remaining three 
 gentlemen were absorbed in their evening papers, 
 and the youth beside her, having got there first, 
 was completely absorbed by his soup, she felt it 
 would rather be polite than otherwise to make her 
 presence as little obtrusive as possible by becoming 
 absorbed, in her turn, in her puzzling letter. So 
 she opened it, and read it. 
 
 It was from a good friend, although he had 
 not had occasion to write to her before. Mr. 
 Keystone was a jolly, hot-tempered, kind-hearted 
 West Indian, who had settled in New Orleans 
 long ago. The summer following Ethel's advent 
 South, he had spent some three months at Mrs. 
 Rice's, during the absence of his family at the sea 
 side, when his own handsome residence had been 
 closed; and he and Ethel had quickly become the 
 best of friends. On the return of his family, 
 Ethel had been introduced to them speedily; and 
 now she was in the habit of spending many a pleas 
 ant evening at their house, when her loyal host 
 would pour into her eager ears various fascinating 
 accounts of the Carribean Isles. 
 
 He was a native of St. Kitts, and having left
 
 DR. ETHEL LEON 13 
 
 no ties there, had never returned; but he retained 
 a vivid recollection of his native isle and of many 
 of her sister islands, and was excessively fond of 
 descanting on their many beauties and delights. 
 His letter now informed Ethel that his old family 
 physician was just dead (which she knew), and 
 it proceeded to ask her oh, wonder of wonders! 
 oh, boon of boons! would she kindly supply his 
 place? A little patient was awaiting her skill; if 
 she would please to look in that evening. 
 
 Ethel left the dining-room as soon as she could 
 manage it. Her own room gained, she put Mr. 
 Keystone's letter to her lips out of pure gratitude 
 and delight. She was soon ready for the street 
 and on her way. This would no doubt lead to 
 other things ! she had reached the turning of the 
 long lane, and it had burst before her at the very 
 moment she was thinking of turning back. She 
 scolded herself fiercely for her impatience it 
 might have cost her this splendid chance! Mr. 
 Keystone had a troop of children, and a feeble 
 wife, and a wide circle of friends. Ethel was ex 
 ultant. And thus brightly did her third year as 
 M. D. open. 
 
 But as the year grew, disappointment and un 
 rest stole back upon her. They developed rapidly, 
 although her piece of luck had failed to do so. 
 The little Keystones were rather an exasperatingly 
 healthy lot, and their rare ailments were of a piti 
 fully simple description. Their mother proved
 
 14 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 alas! one of those purely fanciful invalids, who 
 nursed her imaginary woes with unfailing relish; 
 and thus she offered nothing worthy of Ethel's 
 scientific turn of mind, besides irritating her ter 
 ribly. And last, but by no means least, Mr. Key 
 stone's numerous friends showed no disposition 
 whatever to take up the lady-doctor profession 
 ally and afford her employment. So Ethel's te 
 dious waiting and lonely introspective rambling 
 went on, while her hope and endurance died by 
 leaps and bounds. 
 
 One afternoon, feeling particularly down 
 hearted, and remembering that everything is a 
 matter of comparison, she turned her steps toward 
 the old Royal Hotel, which was at that time in 
 disuse, and penetrated to the lower rotunda, which 
 in the days gone by had been one of the most popu 
 lar old slave auction marts. The usual youth in 
 his shirt-sleeves appeared to do the honors of the 
 place, but Ethel gave him a tip and begged to be 
 left to think it all out alone, and he fell in with 
 her view with alacrity. The dismal spot had been 
 built round, and over, but its individuality had 
 been respected, and the names of the auctioneers 
 were still to be seen and read on its walls. There 
 were, too, the grim iron railings behind which the 
 unfortunate slaves used to be clustered. 
 
 Ethel went and looked in at the enclosed space, 
 and tried to imagine a little, just a little, of the 
 desperate hopes, the ghastly fears, the agonizing
 
 DR. ETHEL LEON 15 
 
 suspense that dreary cage had once encompassed. 
 What were her own worries in comparison ? They 
 receded in shame at the thought. Before the rail 
 ings was the little platform, all grimed and worn, 
 on which the slaves had been put up at auction. 
 Ethel stepped on to it, and walked round it. What 
 injustice and brutality had not those crumbling 
 boards seen ! Her vivid imagination pictured a 
 father, a mother, and a child placed severally upon 
 it, and sold to different merciless masters sold 
 like the lower order of beasts, in spite of a human 
 soul, human feelings, and human intelligence, 
 merely because their skin was black! She stepped 
 down and examined the large iron safe standing 
 near, and cloaked in Time's red rust, which had 
 held the blood-money. She wondered at the long 
 respect shown to its fast-closed door, and tried 
 to guess what secrets it might still hold. And then 
 she walked away to study an old wooden bar, 
 stained and chipped, and battered and black 
 ened the identical old bar across which the slave- 
 dealers were served with drinks when their ne 
 farious business was over. 
 
 On her way home, having plenty of time on 
 her hands, she strolled into a building containing 
 relics of the civil war. She had the good luck to 
 meet there a slender, stately, white-haired Confed- V 
 erate officer, with a pathetic quaver in his voice, 
 who courteously showed her round, and conde 
 scended to tell her many little anecdotes of the
 
 1 6 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 war. Ethel looked at the collected mementoes of 
 the Confederacy with interest, they were care 
 fully and artfully displayed, and she listened to 
 her guide with due attention and respect; but, 
 somehow, it all failed to appeal to her. Its im- 
 pressiveness, to her, paled before the simple, 
 humble, untouched tragedy of the old slave- 
 market. 
 
 She was very fond of exploring the French 
 quarter of the town, and had made herself ac 
 quainted with all its show-places. The King's 
 house, which had sheltered the unfortunate, ad 
 venturous Louis Phillipe, and the famous haunted 
 house she had frequently visited. At this last 
 place, not to her surprise but rather to her disap 
 pointment, nothing extraordinary had appeared 
 to her. It would not have been exactly pleasant 
 to have been treated to a sight of the favorite 
 ghost, the slave-child, running round and round 
 the roof and jumping into space, as she had done 
 in life, when pursued by the fiend-woman whose 
 hobby was the murdering of her slaves still, it 
 would have been an experience, and the monotony 
 of Ethel's life rather craved experiences of any 
 kind. Occasionally she went to the two close-lying 
 pleasure resorts, but her favorite excursions were 
 to the most retired parts of the parks and of the 
 levee, which walled out the murky Mississippi, 
 when she could muse and wander unobserved, and
 
 DR. ETHEL LEON 1 7 
 
 where the general silence and peacefulness were 
 conducive to the thinking out of her future. 
 
 But she was long in coming to a decision, be 
 cause she couldn't see that a change would benefit 
 her in any way: it would, no doubt, be the same 
 old story over again. 
 
 The winter gaieties of New Orleans, the balls 
 connected with the brilliant mummeries of Mardi 
 Gras, Ethel did not go in for; but she was fond 
 of the theaters, and went regularly. Indeed, the 
 chum of her nurse's career, which career had pre 
 ceded her going in for the M. D., Nurse Ken- 
 worthy, used to tell her she had mistaken her vo 
 cation, and should take to the boards. This be 
 cause of Ethel's former clever and perfect mimicry 
 of the doctors and pompous visitors to the hos 
 pital, in the intervals when she had been off duty. 
 
 She was at the theatre one night with Miss Ken- 
 worthy, the latter's brother, and a friend of his, 
 witnessing an extravagant musical farce, of which 
 the leading woman's part was admirably played 
 by a man. 
 
 "How splendidly that man takes off a woman !" 
 Nurse Kenworthy remarked, as the curtain de 
 scended on the first act. "I declare the deception 
 is perfect. See what sufficient painstaking can ac 
 complish ! I wish the women would learn to per 
 sonate a man as well and most of them could, I 
 am sure, if they'd only take the trouble, consider
 
 I 8 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 every detail, as he has. But a woman's man is al 
 ways so frankly absurd, and she is satisfied with 
 it! There are the Keystones in that box, Ethel, 
 bringing their opera-glasses to bear upon you. 
 They do you credit they all look blooming. 
 What a pretty little thing Mrs. K. is ! But spoiled 
 and affected, I'll go bail, eh?" 
 
 She turned to look inquiringly at her silent 
 friend. Ethel's face had grown very white, and 
 there was a strange glitter in her eyes. 
 
 "Yes, yes!" she replied absently, and, following 
 her friend's indicative fan, acknowledged the 
 Keystones' greeting. 
 
 "Aren't you well, Ethel?" asked Miss Ken- 
 worthy, studying her curiously. 
 
 "No," was the slow answer, "I don't feel quite 
 myself just now. But but it's nothing it will 
 pass. Don't take any notice." 
 
 "Still, let us go. You look regularly done up. 
 You'll feel better out of this." 
 
 "No, no! The play will soon be over. Don't 
 let us make any disturbance." 
 
 The gentlemen added their entreaties to Miss 
 Kenworthy's, but Ethel was adamant. 
 
 "I'm not going to faint," she assured them, "I 
 promise you, and I want to see the end of the play. 
 I'm better already. There ! Look ! The curtain 
 is going up." 
 
 But when she reached the keenly craved solitude 
 of her room that night, Ethel feverishly tossed
 
 DR. ETHEL LEON 19 
 
 aside her outdoor wraps, and sinking into the 
 chair before her writing-table, dropped her arms 
 and head down upon it. The night deepened, and 
 grew old, and still she sat there, oblivious of time 
 and surroundings, lost in a furiously pulsing course 
 of thought. It was in the very early hours of the 
 morning that, with a great sobbing sigh, she awoke 
 from her long trance of thought, and staggered to 
 her feet. She felt stiff and chilled, and she began 
 to tremble violently. 
 
 "I am not going to be ill, I hope," she mur 
 mured to herself, as she proceeded to disrobe. 
 "111! What? At this time of all others no, not 
 if I can help it, not if I can help it!" 
 
 She approached the dressing table to put out 
 the gas, and her reflection in the mirror struck her. 
 
 "No!" she said confidently, as she gazed long 
 at the steady luminous eyes reflected there, "I'm 
 not going to break down now, thank God! But 
 I've struggled so long in the darkness, it's it's 
 only natural I should be a little dazzled, a little 
 shaky, now the light has come!"
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE GRAY COTTAGE 
 
 "Mrs. Rice," said Ethel the next morning, as 
 she followed that lady into her private sitting- 
 room after breakfast, "can you spare me a few 
 minutes now? I won't detain you long." 
 
 "Certainly, Doctor. With pleasure. Sit down. 
 Now what can I do for you?" 
 
 The Doctor sat down, and immediately pro 
 ceeded to open the campaign. 
 
 "You can do nothing for me, thank you, Mrs. 
 Rice," she began. "But I wanted to tell you as 
 soon as possible for your greater convenience 
 that I am thinking of leaving you and setting up 
 housekeeping on my own account." 
 
 Mrs. Rice was certainly startled by the news, 
 and gave a little gasp. 
 
 "Well now! You do surprise me!" she ejacu 
 lated. "Are you might I ask if if " It was 
 not easy to question Ethel, and Mrs. Rice, in spite 
 of her strong curiosity on the subject, paused. 
 
 "If what, Mrs. Rice?" Ethel asked encourag 
 ingly. 
 
 "If you are going to to be married?" faltered 
 that lady, wildly casting about in her mind as to 
 whom the gentleman could possibly be!
 
 THE GRAY COTTAGE 21 
 
 Ethel burst into laughter. 
 
 "Oh, no!" she said as soon as she could speak. 
 "Not that, Mrs. Rice, not that! I don't wonder 
 at your surprise now. How could you take up such 
 a ridiculous notion regarding a staid old maid like 
 me? Why, I'm in my thirty-seventh year, and 
 old for that." 
 
 It began to dawn on Mrs. Rice that her sur 
 prise was not complimentary, and she at once com 
 menced to put things right with all due tact. 
 
 "Well, I always thought you were a bit above 
 it," she said readily and craftily, as she studied in 
 silent disparagement the strong, plain face and 
 long, thin figure before her; "that nothing com 
 monplace would suit you!" And even as she spoke 
 she recalled complacently her own comfortable 
 humdrum married life, and secretly pitied the dis 
 contented, unclaimed blessing before her. 
 
 "Perhaps it is a bit above me," insinuated Ethel 
 amusedly, her jdark face lighting up merrily. 
 
 Mrs. Rice privately thought it was, "There's 
 nothing of a wife or mother about her!" was her 
 disparaging mental comment, but, of course, she 
 replied promptly, "No, no! No, indeed!" as she 
 fingered the little adornments about her matronly 
 form and avoided looking at the object of her pity. 
 
 "No," continued Ethel, "my reason for wishing 
 to leave you has nothing to do with romance, it is 
 a purely business one."
 
 22 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 Doubts as to the cause of this decision instantly 
 assailed Mrs. Rice. 
 
 "Aren't aren't you quite comfortable, Doc 
 tor?" she stammered. "I'm sure I've tried my 
 best to make you so. If there's anything wrong, 
 just tell me, and we'll soon put it right. I should 
 be awfully sorry to lose you. After so long too!" 
 
 "Now don't you run away with any such idea," 
 returned Ethel warmly. "Believe me, there is 
 nothing whatever for you to worry over. You've 
 just made me as comfortable as a queen, and you 
 can't be more sorry to lose me than I am to go. 
 I shan't be half as comfy on my own hook, but 
 I think it is best to try." 
 
 "Oh," said Mrs. Rice, but half convinced. 
 "Well, I don't see why." 
 
 "My reasons are many and various," returned 
 Ethel patiently, "but I won't bore you with them, 
 since they in no way reflect on your admirable es 
 tablishment. They are absolutely personal." 
 
 There was no getting behind this: Mrs. Rice 
 was obliged to dismiss her curiosity and let her 
 regrets have full play. 
 
 "Well, I suppose I've got to make up my mind 
 to it, Doctor," she sighed, "but I hate the thought 
 of your going. You're just like one of the family 
 now, and a favorite with everybody. We shan't 
 quickly fill your place." 
 
 "Thank you, Mrs. Rice. You're very good. 
 I hope you'll get in somebody a great deal better
 
 THE GRAY COTTAGE 23 
 
 and brighter. I'm sure you will it will be so 
 easy!" 
 
 Mrs. Rice shook her head, and inquired sadly 
 when the Doctor intended to leave. 
 
 "Well, if I may, I'd like to stay on here until 
 I find a suitable cottage," said Ethel. "I don't 
 know of one yet. But I mean to begin to look 
 about me to-day." 
 
 "We shall be only too glad to have you as long 
 as we can," graciously responded Mrs. Rice. 
 "And if I can be of any use to you in the way of 
 furnishing or getting help, just let me knew." 
 
 Ethel expressed her acknowledgments and the 
 interview closed. 
 
 So all Ethel's leisure was now given up to 
 house-hunting, and the show places of the Cres 
 cent City knew her no more. With many a bitter 
 smile she still rigorously kept her office hours, and 
 those about her often spoke admiringly of her pa 
 tient attention to the business which never came. 
 They marveled too that she should be so bent on 
 attaining it, for they all knew her to be a woman 
 of means and position, with family connections 
 and heaps of friends, and it naturally seemed to 
 them that she could have spent her time far more 
 agreeably. She pursued her house-hunting with 
 the same perseverance, however, but it was some 
 days before she met with exactly her requirements. 
 This was a lonely little cottage on the outskirts of 
 the town, and it completely filled her eye. It had
 
 24 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 been advertised in the newspaper, and Ethel, be 
 fore calling at the given address for the key, had 
 gone to have a look at its surroundings. It faced 
 a vacant lot, and there was a vacant lot on each 
 side of it, and one behind; thus it was not over 
 looked, although there were houses, straggling 
 here and there within five minutes' walk of it. It 
 was a recently laid out section, which was just be 
 ginning to be built upon. The tiny cottage was 
 quite new, and painted a delicate gray. Its little 
 garden, boasting of a few shrubs and bushes, was 
 enclosed by a wooden paling some three feet high, 
 painted to match. Ethel noted the bell placed on 
 the gate according to the New Orleans custom; 
 then she opened the gate, and mounted the two 
 steps to the porch. She tried to peep through the 
 two shuttered windows on each side of the door, 
 and then took a turn or two on the little porch. 
 As she did so she looked about her earnestly and 
 thought hard. 
 
 "Yes," she murmured to herself, suddenly paus 
 ing. It's a little too rural, not to say desolate, 
 for all ordinary purposes, and" as her eyes rested 
 on the rough, unpaved roads "would prove de 
 cidedly swampy in wet weather, I am sure. But, 
 as it is, I think, if I may have you, little gray cot 
 tage in the bulrushes, you'll do!" She leaned on 
 the railing of the porch, and ran her forefinger 
 caressingly along its top. Then, rousing herself,
 
 THE GRAY COTTAGE 25 
 
 she went swiftly to interview the landlady and get 
 the key. 
 
 The landlady proved to be a humble, elderly 
 widow of ample proportions and garrulous tongue. 
 She was attired in one of those remarkable gowns, 
 much favored by the modest Southern matrons 
 throughout the day, although in appearance more 
 suggestive of the privacy of one's own chamber 
 and the night a gown which was confined at the 
 neck and nowhere else, and flowed in straight 
 ample folds to the feet. It certainly was not neat, 
 neither could it be said to be artistically careless, 
 indeed there was nothing at all pretty about it 
 but it looked so comfortable ! And Mrs. Lith was 
 so unconscious of it! 
 
 Ethel studied the fat, pale, placid face of the 
 wearer, and the lilac sprigs on the white calico of 
 which the wrapper was composed, with equal in 
 terest, as she gave a brief account of herself and 
 her wants to her amiable listener. Mrs. Lith 
 couldn't have received a prospective tenant with 
 more cordial confidence in her suitability, and, lest 
 Ethel might feel any misgivings upon the subject, 
 she began as soon as possible to glaze over the 
 weak point of the cottage namely, its loneliness. 
 She little guessed what a strong point that was to 
 her smiling auditor. 
 
 "Bless you! It will soon be all built up! and 
 be a nice section of the city, too. And you'll grow
 
 26 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 up with it, and have it all your own way. I 
 reckon that's your idea, now, ain't it?" 
 
 "Yes," said Ethel absently. 
 
 "Quite right too. Nothing like being the only 
 pebble on the beach to start with no matter how 
 ,many just like come afterward, you're distinct 
 Vfrom 'em and atop of 'em. They're bound to feel 
 it. And now, see, I'm in luck for Mr. Menson, 
 who don't hardly know what to do with his dol 
 lars, is agoing to build a big, grand house right 
 opposite mine; and two rich people own the lots 
 on each side of me, and they ain't agoing to run 
 up any shanties I reckon ! I tell you the cottage is 
 a bargain at $20 a month!" 
 
 "You built on a lucky spot, it seems," Ethel re 
 marked, as the landlady paused. 
 
 "I just did, Miss I beg pardon, Doctor. And 
 my cottage won't disgrace it neither. It's small; 
 but it's neat and well built, and convenient. My 
 husband left me that bit of land, and I said I 
 wouldn't build on it until I could put up something 
 good and I've kept my word, as you'll see. 
 You'll look it over of course. Here's the key then. 
 Now just let me know if there's anything wanting 
 to your mind, and I'll try to meet you in all that's 
 reasonable." 
 
 Ethel thanked her, and strolled back to the cot 
 tage, amused over the unnecessary formality of 
 which she was the victim. Had the interior pre 
 sented every known inconvenience and disadvant-
 
 THE GRAY COTTAGE 27 
 
 age, Ethel would still have rented that cottage. 
 But it would not do to awaken the smallest sus 
 picion. So she unlocked the door, and wandered 
 through the little rooms, scanning them with a 
 whimsically critical eye. The widow's ideas and 
 tastes and hers did not always blend, but never 
 theless Ethel murmured contentedly as she passed 
 from room to room: 
 
 "Never mind, never mind, you'll do, you'll do ! 
 Now I wonder if a tenant was ever so thoroughly 
 and so easily pleased before?" 
 
 When she thought she had spent the time ex 
 pected of her for investigation, she returned to 
 Mrs. Lith, and expressed her approval of the cot 
 tage in warm terms. The landlady was delighted. 
 If a tenant had been a little long in coming, at 
 least she had secured one worth waiting for so 
 easy-going and appreciative! 
 
 "I would like to take the cottage by the month," 
 said Ethel, "and, as I don't want to bother about 
 references, here's a month's rent in advance in lieu 
 of them. That and my professional standing will 
 do, I suppose?" 
 
 "Oh, yes ! I'll just write you the receipt." She 
 did so, and as she put it into her new tenant's hand 
 she looked her over proudly. 
 
 "So you're a doctor!" she softly ejaculated. 
 "Well, now, you're the first lady-doctor I've seen. 
 I reckon, as you've taken my cottage, you can have
 
 28 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 me for a patient. You look as if you knew some 
 thing." 
 
 Ethel laughingly expressed her gratitude. 
 
 "And see here!" cried Mrs. Lith, as Ethel was 
 turning away, after shaking hands. "If I can be 
 of any help to you in getting settled, you look in 
 and let me know." 
 
 "Thank you very much, I will." 
 
 Thus the bargain was concluded, and Ethel went 
 on her way. She communicated her discovery to 
 Mrs. Rice without delay. The latter, having a 
 thorough knowledge of New Orleans and its out 
 lying parts, immediately inquired the location of 
 the cottage. 
 
 "Why, Doctor, you've gone out into the wild 
 erness!" 
 
 "Not a bit of it!" returned Ethel cheerily. 
 "Plenty of houses and people within a few minutes' 
 walk of me, and my view is warmly seconded by 
 my landlady I shall grow up with the place and 
 have everything my own way." 
 
 "Well, I suppose there is something in that," 
 conceded Mrs. Rice. "But won't you feel it too 
 lonely at first? I should be scared myself to live 
 there all alone?" 
 
 "Scared?" retorted Ethel. "Not I! I never 
 felt scared in my life, and it's too late, I am afraid, 
 for me to cultivate that pretty, appealing emotion. 
 As for being lonely oh, Mrs. Rice, I am too fond 
 of my own company !"
 
 THE GRAY COTTAGE 29 
 
 "I believe you are. But you're so pleasant and 
 friendly too! Well now, I suppose you'll be aw 
 fully busy for a while packing up your things here 
 and fixing up the cottage?" 
 
 "Yes; for a day or two." 
 
 "Let me help you furnish, Doctor," urged Mrs. 
 Rice, with all a woman's ready delight in such 
 matters. "I'm sure my knowledge of the stores 
 and of housekeeping will be of some help to you." 
 
 "Many, many thanks, my good friend," re 
 turned Ethel, and her tone was grateful, although 
 her eyes were averted and her face suddenly a 
 little pale and set; "but I couldn't think of 
 troubling you your time is too valuable. Be 
 sides, although I don't for a moment doubt that 
 you could help me very much, I'm a little jealous 
 and proud in such matters, and I want you to see, 
 perhaps, the result of my own entire taste and man 
 agement. I don't want you or any of my friends, 
 really, to come near me until I'm quite settled 
 and then " 
 
 "And then you'll have a house-warming, I ex 
 pect," said Mrs. Rice, with a sympathetic smile, 
 and burying her disappointment over the furnish 
 ing. 
 
 "And then I expect there'll be a house-warm 
 ing," murmured Ethel, rubbing her face with her 
 hands. 
 
 "And about help?" queried Mrs. Rice. 
 
 "I've heard of all I want through friends,"
 
 30 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 vaguely answered Ethel. Then she braced herself 
 up, and bending down gave Mrs. Rice a friendly 
 kiss. "No, you kind soul," she added, "there's 
 nothing you can do but let me, as the canny Scot 
 says, 'gang my ain gait.' ' 
 
 "She's real independent and real reserved," 
 Mrs. Rice muttered to herself as Ethel turned 
 away. "But she's real sweet, too." 
 
 In three days Ethel's preparations were com 
 plete. Very early on the morning of the fourth 
 day the expressman called according to arrange 
 ment, and took away her neatly packed trunks. 
 After a short interval Ethel descended into the 
 hall, ready for the street. In the hall she found 
 Mrs. Rice and her boarders, assembled in expec 
 tation of the ever-welcome breakfast-bell. 
 
 She took leave of them in turn, beginning with 
 Mrs. Rice, with her usual grace and tact. She 
 looked peculiarly pale and grave, and her eyes had 
 an anxious, worried expression, which they did not 
 fail to notice. But they concluded that she was 
 troubled over her discouraging prospects, so made 
 no comment, but good-naturedly confined them 
 selves to giving her a cheery send-off. So there 
 was much brightness and joking mixed up with the 
 reluctant farewells to the old close association, and 
 many references to their pleasurable anticipations 
 in her first house-warming. 
 
 "Yes, we'll keep away until you give us the
 
 THE GRAY COTTAGE 31 
 
 hint," they cried, "and then we shall expect you 
 to surprise us, Doctor." 
 
 "All right," returned Ethel, with a slow smile. 
 "Perhaps I shall." 
 
 "A bientot then." 
 
 "A bientot, mes amis." 
 
 "But why so early, Doctor?" urged Mrs. Rice, 
 as Ethel turned to go. "Do have some breakfast 
 first. It will be ready in a few moments now." 
 
 "No, thanks, I've had my delicious cup of early 
 coffee, Mrs. Rice, and it's worth a meal any day. 
 Besides, Canal Street quickly fills after breakfast, 
 and I want to get some shopping done before the 
 stores are crowded." 
 
 So with a wave of her hand Ethel hurried off 
 on her quest. She made several simple purchases, 
 and one difficult one, that severely tried her nerve, 
 although outwardly she carried off the situation 
 admirably. She made a great point of having her 
 purchases sent to their destination at once; and 
 then, after investing in a tiny lunch-basket, which 
 she filled with a few wholesome and sustaining nec 
 essaries, and carried off on her arm, she betook 
 herself to her lonely little domicile. 
 
 The cottage would have caused a severe shock 
 to any of her friends had they entered with her. 
 She thought this, with a grim smile, as she glanced 
 about her. For the stillness was not broken by 
 the sound of a servant of any description, no cov 
 ering of any sort hid the bareness of the floors,
 
 32 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 and not a stick of furniture showed itself any 
 where. There was no maid to attend, no bed to 
 sleep in, no pots and pans to cook with, not even 
 a chair to sit upon ! Ethel stepped to the end of 
 the diminutive hall, where a single step led down 
 into the little kitchen, and sitting down on this 
 precious little rest-affording step, threw aside her 
 outdoor adornments. Then she leaned back com 
 fortably against the friendly supporting wall, and, 
 opening her basket, prepared to recuperate herself, 
 pending the arrival of her purchases. So she 
 munched away leisurely at the delicate egg-sand 
 wiches, and sipped the sweet new milk with which 
 she had provided herself; and meanwhile gave 
 her tired body, mind, and nerves a much-needed 
 rest. 
 
 Half an hour passed, and then the gate-bell 
 clanged. Ethel started up eagerly, and hurried to 
 the door. Her purchases would, too, have occa 
 sioned a mere on-looker no litttle surprise. The 
 first things to arrive were a plain but good mirror, 
 about two and a half feet square; a good-sized 
 lamp, and some oil, a strong pair of candle-sticks, 
 and a box of candles; a small but sturdy square 
 table, with a lower shelf; and a cane folding 
 lounging-chair. She took these, one by one, from 
 the boy, at the door, and carried them herself into 
 the little front room on the right. Then she 
 watched the boy re-enter the cart which had 
 brought him, and drive away. Closing and re-
 
 THE GRAY COTTAGE 33 
 
 locking the door, she entered the little room where 
 her purchases stood, shrouded in their paper wrap 
 pers. She freed them from these, and carried the 
 waste paper into the kitchen. 
 
 Returning to the room, she set the mirror on the 
 little low mantel-shelf, as securely as possible, and 
 placed a candle-stick, decorated with a candle, on 
 each side of it. She drew up the table to the inner 
 corner of the hearth, filled the tall lamp, and put 
 it on it. Then she opened out the chair by it, and 
 surveyed the whole effect with satisfaction. Now 
 a mirror, a lamp, candles, a chair and table are 
 not, of course, unusual articles in house furnishing, 
 especially the lamp and candles, where, as in this 
 instance, the domicile did not boast of gas; but 
 they look strange unsupported by such essentials 
 as would ordinarily have been put in first, and 
 were conspicuous by their absence. However, it 
 was all right to Ethel. She reclined in the chair 
 until the rest of her purchases made their appear 
 ance in due course, and completed the scenario. 
 
 There were several in number and various in 
 size, and were very carefully unpacked and dis 
 posed of. Indeed, Ethel busied herself amongst 
 them for some little time. Then she had a frugal 
 lunch, and afterward became absorbed in various 
 books and pamphlets which she took from the 
 small hand-bag she had also brought with her. At 
 last the welcome dusk came on, and Ethel went
 
 34 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 about the house, carefully making all as dark and 
 snug as possible. That done, she lit the lamp and 
 candles, and drew near the mirror. She raised her 
 hands to her throat, and cast aside the dainty fem 
 inine neck-wear which embellished it. Then she 
 let down her splendid hair. She plunged her 
 hands into its thick masses, and resting her elbows 
 on the edge of the mantle-shelf, studied her face re 
 lentlessly in the gleaming surface of the looking- 
 glass. It was colorless and strained looking; but, 
 breaking through this, overshadowing it, was the 
 old indomitable courage, resolution, and confi 
 dence of the stern eyes and mouth. 
 
 "What was it Etta said?" she whispered to her 
 reflection, thereby raising a transitory cloud on the 
 shining mirror. "That I shouldn't be satisfied 
 until I had murdered some one? Yes, that was it, 
 I am sure. I can hear her say it now. Dear, 
 pretty, thoughtless, winsome, laughing Ettie! 
 How goes the old proverb? 'Many a true word 
 spoken in jest.' Ah, yes, yes! This shall be one, 
 little sister." She suddenly clasped her hands 
 around her throat, and vindictively apostrophized 
 the white, strained face looking back at her. 
 "True ! Yes, yes ! For Ethel Leon, you rank fail 
 ure, you useless encumbrance of this busy, over 
 crowded old world; you pitiful, helpless, contempt 
 ible thing you shall die, you shall die! So good- 
 by, Countess of Kilburne, good-by, Mrs. Seth Lo- 
 mack, good-by dear little Ad ! It wrings my heart
 
 THE GRAY COTTAGE 35 
 
 to say it, but I must I can't see my way other 
 wise! Besides, you're all happy and well looked 
 after you don't need me. You'll wonder and 
 worry a bit. . . .I'm sorry to have to make you! 
 .... then you'll forget ! And forgive, too, I 
 hope." 
 
 Two great tears splashed their way down her 
 cheeks, quickly followed by one more. 
 
 "There's a tear for each of you," she said. 
 Then she laughed softly, and deftly went to work.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 
 
 One October Saturday afternoon, some nine 
 , years previous, Ethel Leon was sitting by the win 
 
 dow of the front parlor of her handsome home in 
 Brooklyn, gazing idly into the pretty, shady, quiet 
 street; and Seth Lomack was sitting close by her, 
 vainly trying to rivet her attention on his boyish 
 adoration of her. His fair, smooth face was 
 flushed, his big blue eyes were sparkling; and he 
 ran a small white hand every now and then ner 
 vously through his light, curly hair. 
 
 "You ought to have been there," he anxiously 
 reiterated. "When you refused to let me escort 
 you, I concluded some other fellow had been more 
 lucky. You said, you know, when I asked you if 
 you were going, you hadn't made up your mind. 
 I'd never have gone otherwise. I felt regularly 
 sold, when your sisters told me you weren't there. 
 Why didn't you go, Miss Leon? A charity ball, 
 too!" 
 
 "Oh, I bought tickets," she protested in her 
 rather full, deep voice, and giving him a fleeting 
 glance and smile, the underlying charm of which 
 subtly thrilled him, "and I gave them away to 
 people who couldn't afford the price and who
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 37 
 
 could enjoy what it purchased. Such gatherings 
 have no charm for me." 
 
 "But your presence there would have charmed 
 other people," he admonished her. "You should 
 be more unselfish." 
 
 "My presence!" She peeped into a small hand- 
 painted mirror which decorated a portion of the 
 wall at her side, and laughed mockingly at the 
 dark, plain, strong face it reflected a face full 
 of intelligence, power, and latent tenderness, but 
 possessing no vestige even of ordinary grace or 
 prettiness. In fact, there was nothing ordinary 
 about her. 
 
 "Beauty isn't everything," Seth murmured sen- 
 tentiously. 
 
 "True, oh, Solomon !" she laughingly returned. 
 "But it's a very great deal to most people, and it's 
 singularly potent too. It smiles reason into silence, 
 and it leads judgment by the nose, and it covers 
 all short-comings more thoroughly and gracefully 
 than even Charity itself. Painters don't suffer it 
 to die, nor do novelists allow its all-swaying pow 
 ers to be forgotten." 
 
 "Come!" he objected. "Our most interesting 
 heroines of fiction are not beautiful. Beckie Sharp 
 isn't, nor Jane Eyre, nor Marian Halcome." 
 
 "No, you are right, Seth, as far as you go. And, 
 mind you, I'm not coveting beauty, I'm merely 
 stating facts. I like facts, I have a very sincere 
 respect for them; they may hurt sometimes, but 

 
 38 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 they help always. Of course, I'd a million times 
 prefer Beckie Sharp's cleverness, or Jane Eyre's 
 principles, or Marian Halcome's resolution to 
 what shall I say? the physical loveliness of 
 Lydia Gwilt." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "You are not unlike Marian Halcome," he as 
 serted tenderly. "You have her dark, clever, 
 gypsy face; her tall, fine figure " 
 
 "I'm too thin, much too thin," she interrupted. 
 
 "Well, I like thinness." 
 
 "But that doesn't make it beauty, or in keeping 
 with dear Wilkie Collins's description of Marian 
 Halcome's magnificent proportions." 
 
 "Well, at any rate, you have her self-reliance 
 and her intolerance of all pretense. I shouldn't 
 dare to glaze over the truth in your presence." 
 
 "That's right. I like you because you don't 
 dare." 
 
 "I wish you'd do more than like me," he urged 
 with sudden desperation. "Won't you try, Ethel, 
 try real hard? You know I've loved and admired 
 you ever since we were school-mates. You must 
 know it? It's always been so genuine and so frank 
 on my part!" 
 
 "Yes," she said sadly. "I know it. But it's 
 useless and distressing to talk of it, Seth. You 
 must know that for I've been always frank and 
 honest too, haven't I?" 
 
 "Yes. But I must go on! It's a tremendous
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 39 
 
 cheek on my part to press it, but if you'd only be 
 come engaged to me, Ethel, I'd wait any time, 
 make you any concession all I ask is permission 
 to try and deepen your liking into love; and that 
 permission would make my life a veritable dream 
 of Paradise. Come! Give it me!" 
 
 "Why, I'm two years older than you, Seth!" 
 she remonstrated. "Twenty-seven! That is to 
 say, I am ten years older than you and shall be 
 withering when you're in the height of your 
 bloom! Ugh! Think of it!" 
 
 "Nonsense! Let me see if I can teach you to 
 love me, Ethel, in spite of the cheek of the thing. 
 Be generous! Come!" 
 
 He held out his hands to her. She turned and 
 took them with steady gentleness and sympathy. 
 
 "It isn't cheek at all, dear Seth," she said, meet 
 ing his pleading eyes with calm earnestness; "but 
 it's generous folly, old friend. I simply could not 
 do it ! I was clearly not created for that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 She withdrew her hands and held them up for 
 his inspection ; they were large, broad and power 
 ful, for all their feminine whiteness and trimness. 
 
 "Look at them!" she cried. "Look at my 
 hands, Seth. They were never meant for pretty, 
 fiddling household duties and dainty embroideries 
 in my leisure moments. Any more than my big 
 masculine mouth was meant for kisses and to give 
 vent to domestic sentiment and social tittle tattle.
 
 4O A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 The monotonous routine of seeing you off in the 
 morning, ordering the meals, scolding the ser 
 vants, gossiping to my friends, welcoming you 
 home again, and sitting meekly under your adoring 
 eyes while I coyly played with some needlework, 
 would quickly plait itself into a rope which would 
 strangle me. There are, I believe, women spe 
 cially created for such a necessary existence 
 pretty, soft, clinging creatures, who do the part 
 well and happily. Seek one of them, Seth, and, 
 in this light, forget and forgive me." 
 
 "What were you made for?" he asked sulkily. 
 
 She looked at her hands again and laughed. 
 
 "I really don't know, Seth. For plenty of 
 physical and mental hardship, I think; I feel so 
 strong and energetic, and so boldly ready and 
 anxious to cope with it. How I would enjoy a 
 fight that would prove me of some worth, and so 
 make life seem worth living. A good, bracing, 
 mettlesome contest. Ah, there's nothing like it! 
 I ought to have been a man, Seth; I might have 
 gone out to seek it then I ought to have been a 
 man!" 
 
 "Certainly, there is nothing weak or little about 
 you," he conceded. "But then you're such a 
 splendid woman!" 
 
 "No, Seth, I'm a failure as a woman a rank, 
 hopeless failure. What should absorb me as one 
 of the gentler sex can't even command my honest 
 liking." She stared frowning into the street.
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 4! 
 
 "And yet you accomplish a woman's duties so 
 well," he remonstrated. "I have seen and studied 
 you as a patient companion to a rather fretful, un- 
 sympatheic step-mother, as a tireless guardian 
 and playmate to two spoiled and wilful half-sisters, 
 and as a nurse and comforter in your good fath 
 er's last illness. You left nothing to be desired, 
 Ethel." 
 
 "Oh, of course," she quickly returned, in a 
 touched, softened way, and the brightness of her 
 fine dark eyes as she turned them on him was 
 blurred as usual at the reference to her father. 
 "Of course, I have a certain amount of proper ad 
 miration and appreciation for a woman's duties, 
 and can cope with them when they fall my way 
 but they don't satisfy me. I'm disgracefully con 
 ceited and ambitious, Seth, and I want something 
 quite out of the ordinary to struggle with and 
 master!" 
 
 She finished quietly, but with a strong underly 
 ing enthusiasm, which only showed itself out 
 wardly in her gradually brightening eyes and in 
 the impulsive touch of her capable hand as she 
 laid it in frank appeal to his understanding and 
 sympathy, on his arm:. He took it and kissed it, 
 and she drew it impatiently away. 
 
 "Well," he returned crossly, "I suppose you 
 want me to wish you all kinds of strange and suc 
 cessful adventures, but I shan't! I'm delighted," 
 he added vindictively, "that there's nothing else
 
 42 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 for you to do but to put up philosophically with 
 this." And he gave an affectionate look around 
 him. 
 
 She did not answer him, and there was a far 
 away look in her averted eyes. 
 
 "Now, if Mr. Leon were alive," Seth pursued, 
 "there would be no room for this restlessness and 
 vague ambition, would there?" 
 
 She responded at once. 
 
 "No, no!" she murmered hurriedly, as if in 
 pain. "He needed me, and I loved him, as I ever 
 shall, first and best!" 
 
 "Needed you!" Seth ejaculated. "I should 
 rather think so! If he had had a hundred wives, 
 a thousand daughters, a million servants, he would 
 have needed you." 
 
 "Yes," she assented; "we were thoroughly at 
 tuned to each other." 
 
 "But Mr. Leon has been dead now over two 
 years, Ethel, and it is only quite recently that you 
 have exhibited this fever of discontent with your 
 lot." 
 
 "Ah, you don't know, Seth," she pathetically 
 returned, "how long it takes to throw off the par 
 alyzing shock of such a blow, to realize that things 
 are still running in their accustomed groove, and 
 the threads of life waiting to be picked up again ! 
 We are only beginning now to awaken to these 
 facts." 
 
 Ethel said we, but she might have said /, with
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 43 
 
 greater truth and less generosity; for the pretty 
 little buxom widow was already thinking of 
 throwing her Helpless, clinging self at the uncon 
 scious head of one of her late husband's old 
 friends, and her daughters were completely ab 
 sorbed in their first taste of society, with all the 
 enthusiasm and adaptability of their twin seven 
 teen years. 
 
 "Yes," Seth said softly; "I see, I understand. 
 It was a thoughtless speech of mine. But, 
 although he has gone, Ethel, he has left others. 
 He loved your step-mother and half-sisters very 
 much." 
 
 "Oh, yes! Yes, indeed!" 
 
 "And I once heard you say that any one he 
 cared for who claimed your consideration could 
 never be ignored. Don't they need it now?" 
 
 "I don't think so," she said slowly. "I don't 
 feel that they have any very deep affection for me, 
 and they certainly have no sympathy with me. 
 In fact, I don't think they understand me at all." 
 
 "Perhaps not. But Mrs. Leon relies on you 
 greatly, and so do Ettie and Addie. They de 
 pend tremendously on your judgment and resolute 
 energy, rather lacking these qualities themselves 
 if I' may be rude." 
 
 "Yes, there is something in that. But a truce 
 to this seriousness. Let's be frivolous, Seth, by 
 way of a healthy change. Tell me how my half- 
 sisters looked last night?"
 
 44 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "Very pretty," he said absently. "They were 
 much admired." 
 
 "I was sure they would be," she continued 
 brightly. "I can never make up my mind whether 
 I admire Henrietta's glowing, piquante brunette- 
 ness, or Adelaide's classical fairness, the more?" 
 
 "Oh, Etta's the prettier," he carelessly returned. 
 
 "Perhaps that's only because you're such a 
 blonde yourself." 
 
 "Perhaps so. Where are they this afternoon?" 
 
 "Oh, they've gone boating on the Park lake 
 with their favored swains of last night." 
 
 "And Mrs. Leon?" 
 
 "Mother's not feeling very well and has sent for 
 Dr. Sartin." 
 
 They exchanged an involuntary glance and then 
 broke into irrepressible laughter. In Ethel's, 
 however, there was an undercurrent of pain. 
 Mrs. Leon was a malade imaginaire, with a pur 
 pose. 
 
 "I expect the Doctor every moment," Ethel 
 continued more seriously. "Ah, here he is !" as a 
 big hale-looking man of about fifty alighted from 
 a smart buggy, which had drawn up in front of 
 the house. 
 
 As the Doctor mounted the high stoop his eye 
 caught Ethel's, and he raised his glossy top hat in 
 acknowledgment of her smiling nod. His curly 
 gray hair and moustache had evidently received 
 some care, and he was immaculately dressed in the
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 45 
 
 latest fashion of his professional garb. There 
 was altogether something spruce and jaunty about 
 this autumnal Adonis evidently Dr. Sartin was 
 very young for his years, or wished to look so. 
 
 The maid who answered his brisk ring at the 
 door conducted him at once to his patient. But 
 the Doctor did not remain long upstairs ; he joined 
 Ethel and Seth in the parlor with a promptitude 
 which would have relieved their minds had they 
 felt any uneasiness on the score of the interesting 
 patient. The greeting between Ethel and the 
 Doctor was hearty, that between Seth and himself 
 cool. 
 
 "How is mother?" Ethel asked, as a matter of 
 form. 
 
 "Oh, only a little nervous," the Doctor re 
 sponded with a faint show of embarrassment, as 
 he sat down near her. "She'll be all right to 
 morrow." 
 
 The Doctor had pleaded haste to Mrs. Leon, 
 but he spent fully twenty minutes chatting com 
 monplaces to her stepdaughter, while his shrewd, 
 bright gray eyes studied her with undisguised in 
 terest and cordiality. At length he reluctantly 
 departed, Ethel accompanying him to the door. 
 She had known him from early childhood, and 
 had always liked and admired him. Ethel had, 
 too, a vivid remembrance of his pretty, feeble lit 
 tle wife; but the Doctor had now been a widower 
 without incumbrances for ten years. Returning
 
 46 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 to the parlor, Ethel was greeted rather sulkily by 
 Seth. 
 
 "Well," he said, rising, "I suppose I ought to be 
 off and leave you free to nurse the invalid!" 
 
 This brutal sarcasm flushed Ethel's usually pale 
 face and roused her spirit. 
 
 "For shame, Seth!" she cried indignantly, and 
 then added reflectively, as though trying to con 
 vince herself, "You know if there were really noth 
 ing at all wrong with mother, I am sure Dr. Sartin 
 wouldn't obey her summons so promptly; he is 
 too busy a man. I don't deny that mother is in 
 clined to exaggerate her ailments, but they can't 
 be altogether imaginary." 
 
 "Oh, I don't think Dr. Sartin's ready visits are 
 any criterion," Seth boldly responded. "I rather 
 more than fancy he doesn't come to see Mrs. 
 Leon." 
 
 "To see whom, then?" 
 
 "You!" 
 
 "Me !" Ethel gasped in her amazement. "You 
 must be dreaming, Seth !" 
 
 "Oh, all right!" he retorted roughly. "Only 
 a blind man on a trotting-horse could see that he 
 won't be long able to keep his admiration and re 
 gard for you in check. Do you mean to deny that 
 he isn't fond of you?" 
 
 "Oh, no!" Ethel said readily, and amusedly. 
 "He was one of father's oldest friends, remember, 
 and has made rather a pet of me from babyhood.
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 47 
 
 But poor, old, kindhearted Doc! To make him 
 the hero of a romance! Really!" She burst into 
 laughter. "Do you think every one as weak and 
 blind as yourself, Seth?" And the next instant 
 could have cut her tongue out for its involuntary, 
 thoughtless cruelty. 
 
 "Good-bye!" Seth said abruptly, and left her 
 in dudgeon. 
 
 But Ethel ran after him, and caught him on the 
 threshhold of the front door. 
 
 "Good-bye," she said wistfully, holding out her 
 hand. 
 
 He saw that she was unwilling to reopen a sub 
 ject which she felt he would now rather have left 
 alone, but that she was nevertheless dumbly ap 
 pealing to his generosity. 
 
 "Good-bye," he repeated, giving her hand a re- 
 lentingly hearty pressure. 
 
 "We are too old friends, aren't we, Seth?" 
 she faltered pleadingly "to be parted now by 
 anything!" 
 
 He looked at the tears in her eyes, he heard the 
 quiver in her voice, and he felt the clinging touch 
 of her hand, and he thought of her natural 
 strength and self-control. And then his youthful 
 idea of throwing up his present post as head-book 
 keeper in his father's big commercial house, and 
 making a dignified, effective retreat by seeking his 
 fortune in some far-away spot, vanished. The 
 boy died in him as he studied her, and the man
 
 48 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 was born. She saw and understood the meta 
 morphosis. 
 
 "Much too old, Ethel!" he said slowly, a little 
 dazedly. "Yes, much too old!" 
 
 "That's right! And you will come here as 
 usual?" 
 
 "Yes. Of of course." 
 
 "I'm so glad. I predict great things for you, 
 Seth, in your father's business, and much happi 
 ness through your host of friends here." 
 
 "Thanks," he said. "Yes, I I suppose I have 
 my share of luck." 
 
 "And I want to have you at hand, when the 
 big things come your way, that I may give you a 
 comrade's slap upon the shoulder, and say, 'Well 
 earned!' Selfish of me, isn't it?" 
 
 "No, it isn't!" he divined sharply. "You're 
 thinking of me, Ethel." 
 
 "Am I?" She smiled dreamily. "Well, per 
 haps I am, Seth; perhaps I am!" 
 
 He kissed her hand, and ran down the stoop. 
 
 "That's the finest woman I know!" he thought 
 as he scrambled breathlessly up the steps to the 
 elevated station to catch a rapidly approaching 
 train. "That I shall ever know!" His thoughts 
 continued as, the train gained, he sank wearily into 
 a seat. "Heigho ! I wish I'd never met her !" 
 
 Meanwhile, Ethel proceeded upstairs to Mrs. 
 Leon's room. She was always most punctilious in 
 her attentions to her step-mother and sisters, be-
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 49 
 
 cause her heart not being deeply involved where 
 they were concerned she was conscientiously afraid 
 of erring on the other side." 
 
 "Can I do anything for you, mother?" 
 The invalid was lying on the sofa at the foot of 
 the bed in a rose-hued, lace-bedecked dressing, 
 gown, with a white shawl thrown lightly over her 
 feet and her blonde head resting on a dainty white 
 silk, much-frilled cushion. The light in the room 
 was becomingly softened by a careful adjustment 
 of the blinds. Mrs. Leon had her forte as well 
 as other people; she was a specialist on all mat 
 ters pertaining to dress, the blending of colors, and 
 becoming lights. In the presence of the opposite 
 sex she never looked her forty years her own sex 
 did not interest her sufficiently to call forth any 
 exertions; she was naturally an indolent woman, 
 and she gave herself a holiday when the men were 
 off the scene. Ethel felt sure that her stepmother 
 had looked her very best under Dr. Sartin's 
 scrutinizing eyes; that it was only after he had 
 gone that her fluffy hair had been suffered to grow 
 disordered, as it now was, and her delicately tinted 
 face unbecomingly flushed. There was now, too, 
 a restlessness about her feet, hands, and lips that 
 plainly betokened rising temper, which Ethel was 
 also certain the Doctor had not seen. She an 
 swered Ethel's question sharply in the negative, 
 and turned her head away. She was obviously
 
 50 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 vexed to the point of tears, and Ethel sensibly felt 
 that, for the present, she was best left to herself. 
 She therefore returned to the parlor, and interested 
 herself in a book. 
 
 Two hours passed pleasantly away, and then 
 Ethel was roused to a sense of the fleeting time by 
 a sharp ring at the front door. The maid pres 
 ently appeared with a hand-delivered note for 
 Miss Leon. Ethel looking at the superscription 
 curiously as she lifted the note from the tray 
 from Dr. Sartin. "How strange!" she thought 
 "considering how recently he has seen me. 1 
 wonder what has happened? Is the messenger 
 waiting for an answer?" she asked aloud. 
 
 "Yes, Miss. He's in the hall." 
 
 "Very well. I'll give it to him when it's ready." 
 
 The maid withdrew, and, fearing she knew not 
 exactly what, Ethel hastily tore open the envelope 
 and read the letter read it with rapidly increas 
 ing astonishment and no little dismay. 
 
 The Doctor began by informing her that he was 
 very much disappointed at not having been able to 
 get a private talk with her that afternoon, and, 
 with an apology for that overmastering impatience 
 characteristic of him when thwarted, he proceeded 
 to write the question he had meant to ask her 
 would she be his wife? He added a few protesta 
 tions and entreaties, and closed by earnestly beg 
 ging her to relieve his suspense on the subject with 
 the return of his messenger.
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 51 
 
 "Seth was right after all!" Ethel breathlessly 
 murmured, nervously crushing the note in her 
 hand. "But who would have thought it! Two 
 proposals in one afternoon ! Enough to satisfy 
 the vanity of the most capricious beauty. I 
 haven't had a proposal since since for nine 
 years ! But it never rains for me unless it pours !" 
 
 She rose, and passed through the draped-back 
 portiere into the back parlor, which was furnished 
 as a library. Sitting down at once at the pretty 
 desk under the window, she swiftly penned an ap 
 preciative reply to her old friend, but it embodied 
 an unqualified refusal. Placing the Doctor's note 
 in the bosom of her dress until it could be safely 
 destroyed, she despatched the messenger with the 
 answer. She returned to the back parlor, and sat 
 down once more at the now rather disordered desk. 
 No doubt, with a dutiful rememberance of her 
 step-mother's irritable sense of order, and perhaps 
 too in some dread of her equally irritable curiosity, 
 Ethel's motive was to tidy up the desk and make 
 it look as usual ; but instead of proceeding at once 
 with this important matter she sat tapping the 
 blotting-pad with the paper-knife and musing the 
 precious moments of solitude idly away. 
 
 "I really wish I could bring myself to marry," 
 she thought. "Certainly it would simplify mat 
 ters for me, and relieve me and others of a world 
 of petty but none the less demoralizing trials in 
 an unquestionably natural manner. But I can't;
 
 52 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 and, anyway, neither Seth nor the Doctor strikes 
 me in the light of a generally satisfactory res 
 cuer and there is nobody else ! So, whatever my 
 sentiments, it seems I must grin and bear my pres 
 ent lot. Seth, or the Doctor? Heigho! There 
 would be a rumpus in the camp !" And her mus 
 ing face broke into a smile. 
 
 Mrs. Leon, of whose cat-like approach she was 
 unconscious, joined her while the smile was yet on 
 her face and her hand still engaged over the idle 
 tatoo. Ethel was only aware of her presence 
 when she was well in the room, and, turning round, 
 her inquiring eyes instantly informed her that the 
 lady of the house had descended in no quieter 
 frame of mind. 
 
 "I am glad you feel well enough to get up, 
 mother," she said politely. "Can I do anything 
 for you now?" 
 
 "Who came just now?" the elder lady asked, 
 with sharp irrelevance. "I heard the front bell 
 ring." 
 
 "Only a messenger with a note for me," Ethel 
 uneasily replied. 
 
 "It required an early answer, it seems," Mrs. 
 Leon went on sneeringly, as she glanced at the 
 desk. 
 
 "Yes, it was pressing," Ethel reluctantly ad 
 mitted. 
 
 "May I ask from whom it was?" 
 
 Ethel hesitated painfully.
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 53 
 
 "Oh, never mind then!" Mrs. Leon irritably 
 pursued. "I'm only your mother, and perhaps, 
 according to your extraordinary views of life and 
 its duties, I have no right to express any interest in 
 your affairs. If your poor father could only see 
 how you try me !" 
 
 "The note was from Dr. Sartin," Ethel re 
 signedly acknowledged, flushing a little under the 
 other's merciless eyes. "But you should remem 
 ber, mother, that I have now reached an age when 
 I am capable of judging and deciding my affairs 
 for myself." 
 
 "Oh, indeed! I should have thought that cer 
 tain concessions in that respect were always due to 
 those who stood in the light of a parent toward 
 you. But no doubt I am very old-fashioned." 
 
 "I think you are right, mother, and I also think 
 I have made my concession in telling you the au 
 thor of the note." 
 
 "Perhaps the Doctor is a little anxious about 
 me?" Mrs. Leon insinuated. 
 
 "Indeed, no!" returned Ethel quickly. "His 
 note is purely private." 
 
 "Ah, I might have known it! But I should 
 have thought that you and he had talked together 
 quite long enough this afternoon to have threshed 
 all matters out. I heard him join you, and I 
 heard when he left. Indeed, he was so anxious to 
 get to you that he barely gave his patient his at-
 
 54 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 tention. I hope you feel repaid for your exer 
 tions." 
 
 Mrs. Leon was fast working herself up into one 
 of her frequent fits of passion, and this threatened 
 to be the most alarming one that Ethel had been 
 favored with yet. 
 
 "I don't understand you, mother," she said. 
 
 "No, of course not!" the angry lady retorted. 
 "Women of your pose never do. They don't care 
 for men's admiration and attentions, not they! 
 They are much too intellectual and independent to 
 stoop to cater for either. Yet, I notice that they 
 never let either pass them, if they can possibly 
 help it; they work for both in an underhand way 
 of which their more unpretentious sisters would be 
 ashamed. How I hate hypocrisy!" 
 
 "Mother," Ethel entreated, "please spare me 
 any more. I would not willingly be rude to you, 
 but I have a temper to lose as well as you. You 
 are doing me an awful injustice !" 
 
 "Am I? You can't fool me with the airs of a 
 persecuted heroine. I'm not a gullible man, I'm a 
 sharp woman, who has studied you long and 
 closely. And of course I understand the Doctor's 
 note. I remember now that Kate informed me 
 Seth was here too no doubt all the time. The 
 poor Doctor couldn't comfortably propose before 
 a third party, and so the note, I suppose, contains 
 the vital question which he was too impatient to 
 put off till the next interview. You should be
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 55 
 
 more tactful, my dear, and not have two on your 
 hands at the same time. Well, are you going to 
 marry the Doctor if I may ask?" 
 
 "No!" said Ethel, in an ominously suppressed 
 tone. 
 
 "He has asked you, though?" the trembling 
 lady divined, with the double-edged intuition of 
 jealousy. 
 
 Ethel was silent. 
 
 "Ah, silence is such a touching admission! 
 Another scalp added to your collection, one grow 
 ing bald too ! so much the more valuable, as it 
 typifies wisdom and experience. I suppose you 
 think I ought to congratulate you, but, if I may 
 presume to express an opinion, I think it would 
 have been more becoming to have refrained from 
 making a fool of your father's old friend." 
 
 Ethel felt a hysterical desire to laugh. She 
 turned away abruptly, and busied herself in setting 
 the desk to rights; but her hidden face was quiv 
 ering, her hands trembling, and the Doctor's note 
 in her bosom rustled with her quickened breathing. 
 
 "And Seth, too!" Mrs. Leon burst out, as she 
 began to pace the room. "You know that he is 
 one of the few eligible men we know, that I am 
 anxious to get the girls settled early, that Henrietta 
 is fond of him and he of her yet you inveigle 
 Seth ! He is too young for you ; but still I could 
 forgive you if you'd only marry him and so re 
 lieve us of the irritation of your tricks and man-
 
 56 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 ners. But no! You've evidently no intention of 
 marrying, you're simply bent on spoiling every 
 one else's chances you dog in the manger!" 
 And the now thoroughly over-wrought lady broke 
 into a storm of weeping. 
 
 Ethel gave the desk a finishing touch, and quietly 
 rose. 
 
 "I think I had better relieve you of my presence, 
 mother," she said, with wonderful self-control. 
 
 "I think you had!" Mrs. Leon sobbed passion 
 ately, as she threw her exhausted self into a chair. 
 "You have grown so exasperating lately, Ethel, 
 so thoroughly selfish and unkind, that I could 
 find it in my heart to wish that you might relieve 
 me of it permanently. See to what a pass you 
 have brought me, Ethel, you my dear, good hus 
 band's best loved child, and pray to God for a 
 better heart!" 
 
 Ethel opened her lips: her father was very 
 present to her, and the words, "I have hon 
 estly tried to help you, mother; please don't mis 
 take me any more! I sent Seth to the ball last 
 night for Henrietta's sake I might have kept him 
 away by frankly telling him that I was not going ; 
 and I have prevented him from running away 
 altogether, also for Henrietta's sake," these words, 
 I say, struggled within her for coherent utterance. 
 A truer understanding between the two women 
 was imminent; for Ethel's fine senses, aided by 
 that subtle consciousness of her father, were tell-
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 57 
 
 ing her that all this outrageous tirade was but the 
 unreasonable savagery of the green-eyed monster, 
 who for the moment reigned supreme, and she was 
 honestly trying to crush her rebelling pride into the 
 necessary submission and gradually succeeding 
 when Mrs. Leon swept the explanation from her 
 by the following gasping remark: 
 
 "Oh, if that silly boy had only lived! What a 
 lot we would all have been spared!" 
 
 All thought of her father instantly vanished, 
 another potent vision rose before Ethel and 
 blotted out the former. A pathetically helpless 
 vision this time, which pleaded no toleration, 
 which was only outraged by that contemptibly 
 shallow cry. She turned on her step-mother in a 
 fury. 
 
 "You shall not bring his name into this disgrace 
 ful discussion!" she cried, and immediately left the 
 room. 
 
 In the hall Ethel met her half-sisters, who had 
 just parted from their friends. It was her cus 
 tom to try and set a good example by always 
 greeting them pleasantly, and now, even in her 
 distress of mind, she mechanically paused, and 
 asked them how they had enjoyed themselves. 
 
 "Awfully!" answered Addie brightly. "I wish 
 you had been with us it was glorious on the lake, 
 and would have done you good." 
 
 Addie was in high good spirits. Dickie Leigh 
 had surpassed himself as an escort, had almost
 
 58 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 reached the ideal point of proposing. Etta did 
 not speak, and her mien was sullen. 
 
 "Are you tired, Etta?" Ethel asked kindly. 
 
 "No." After that ungraciously brief reply, 
 Etta, letting her jealous suspicions master her, 
 inquired palpably against her will, "Has Seth been 
 here this afternoon?" 
 
 "Yes," Ethel shrinkingly returned, as she put 
 out a hand to help Etta off with her jacket, which 
 the girl was roughly unfastening. 
 
 But Etta pushed her sister irritably back, and 
 with an uncontrollable gasp ran upstairs to hide 
 the angry tears which had sprung into her eyes and 
 threatened to overflow. 
 
 "What's the matter now?" Ethel turned dully 
 to Addie for an explanation, as she muttered the 
 question. 
 
 "Oh, she asked Seth to join us this afternoon 
 with Daisy Lowe; but he said he was sorry he 
 couldn't as he had an engagement. If Etta can't 
 enjoy Seth's escort, you know, she still likes to 
 have him under her eye. She was awfully disap 
 pointed, and suspicious, too, that he was merely 
 making up an excuse. It's upset her, I suppose, to 
 find out that she's right. He had no engagement 
 with you, had he?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "It's so silly of Etta! I wish she'd get over 
 this nonsense. I declare she's beginning to peak 
 and pine. How's mommer?"
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 59 
 
 "Better, I think. She's come downstairs; but, 
 unfortunately, we've had a few words, and she's 
 thoroughly put out just now. Go and see if you 
 can do anything for her, Ad, while I see what I 
 can do with Etta." 
 
 Adelaide looked for the first time searchingly 
 into her sister's tired face, incited thereto by the 
 tired tone in which the appeal had been made. 
 
 "In the wars as usual, Ethel!" she smiled. 
 "First Mommer, and now Etta. I wish you could 
 avoid it; and you do, too, I believe you look so 
 wearied ! Come ! You're clever why don't you 
 think the situation out and teach yourself to walk 
 round the pitfalls?" 
 
 "I'm going to try." 
 
 "That's right. Don't look so miserable. 
 There!" she leaned forward and gave Ethel a 
 careless kiss. 
 
 It was but the light impulse of an idle, happy, 
 cheery moment; but, in her then frame of mind, 
 that kiss touched Ethel to the heart's core and 
 made a lasting impresion on her. It somehow set 
 Adelaide apart from and before her mother and 
 sister, a distinction Ethel had not until now ac 
 corded her. The girl's face, too, though exactly 
 like her mother's in coloring, was in feature like 
 her handsome father's; and this likeness now 
 overshadowed the other in Ethel's eyes. This was 
 purely her father's child. She put her arms 
 round Addie and kissed her warmly; then pushing
 
 60 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 her toward the parlor, Ethel followed Etta up 
 stairs. 
 
 Ethel's hand was on the door of her sister's 
 room, when the dull sound of sobbing smote her, 
 and she shrank back. A young girl's first love 
 affair may be utterly mistaken, may be utterly 
 foolish, may be, and often is, out of all reason; 
 but it is never light, nor is it ever quite harmless in 
 its passing. The theme was a bow across the 
 most delicately sensitive cord that life had woven 
 for Ethel and under the guiding vibration of that 
 cord she softly retreated to her own room. There 
 a sudden inspiration came upon her. She walked 
 dizzily to the bureau, and, sinking into the chair 
 before it, sought to relieve her throbbing head by 
 letting down the sleek masses of her raven hair 
 Plunging her hands into it as it fell about her, she 
 studied her startled face in the mirror. 
 
 "Yes," she murmured to her reflection. "Right 
 in one instance, Seth was wrong in another they 
 don't need me at all! They would rejoice to be 
 rid of me yes, rejoice ! A clear field is all they 
 want a clear field would more than compensate 
 them for any loss. They have shown me that 
 beyond all doubt. Well, why should I stay? 
 Why shouldn't I go ? and make all happy ! Go ? 
 To do what? Ah, that's a question to be thought 
 out afterward. I needn't starve while I'm think 
 ing, for there's my independent little income from 
 my own dear mother. And whatever I do or
 
 EVOLUTION OF DR. ETHEL LEON 6 1 
 
 fail to do I'll be spending my time better than 
 this !". 
 
 And the living face looked indomitably at the 
 reflected one, which faithfully looked indomitably 
 back.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE SILLY BOY 
 
 The silly boy had been the only child of the 
 late Reginald Leon's lawyer and life-long friend, 
 Henry Law. Mrs. Henry Law had been a lady 
 of prepossessing appearance and fascinating man 
 ners, afflicted unfortunately with an inordinate 
 passion for society. As, in her own right, she pos 
 sessed neither wealth nor influence, she eagerly ac 
 cepted the proposal of the rich and prominent law 
 yer, purely as a means of gratifying her tastes. 
 The birth of her child, therefore, gave her no 
 pleasure. She looked on the helpless mite as a 
 most trying nuisance a nuisance, however, to be 
 comfortably avoided presently by consigning him 
 entirely to his nurse. As time went on and the 
 boy began to run about and chatter, his mother, 
 living for and by appearances, might have been in 
 duced to feel some pride in him and to take some 
 notice of him had he only promised to add in any 
 way to the picture. But Baby Reg grew up hope 
 lessly plain, was backward, weakly, and fretful. 
 There was no possibility of his exciting either ad 
 miration or interest, so his mama continued philo 
 sophically to ignore him. 
 
 Henry Law had been won by his wife's beauty
 
 THE SILLY BOY 63 
 
 and wit, but he was naturally a man of deep affec 
 tions and domesticated tastes, and when he dis 
 covered that, in his universally admired wife, these 
 sterling qualities were conspicuous only by their 
 absence, he was deeply pained and dismayed. 
 For a time he earnestly tried to cultivate them in 
 her, but soon realizing his task to be hopeless, and 
 shrinking from the friction his efforts occasioned, 
 he resigned himself patiently to let her go her way 
 undisturbed, and devoted himself entirely to his 
 neglected son. The boy never grew strong or in 
 dependent enough to rough it at school, and was 
 educated fitfully at home by a succession of tutors. 
 I say fitfully, because he was often ill for weeks at 
 a time, when studies had to be totally abandoned. 
 Naturally of a feeble constitution, he seemed to be 
 specially unfortunate in contracting in quick suc 
 cession all the diseases that childhood is heir to; 
 and as he only just pulled through these illnesses, 
 they left him a very frail, helpless boy, morbidly 
 sensitive and retiring, with a quaint, dreamy turn 
 of mind. He was not a satisfactory pupil when 
 he could apply, for he learnt very slowly and for 
 got what he had learnt with surprising rapidity; 
 on the other hand, he sometimes astonished his 
 master when the subject happened to pierce his 
 torpid interest, but these occasions were fleeting 
 and rare. By gathering about him the children of 
 his own cronies his father tried to give the boy a 
 little wholesomely rousing companionship ; but the
 
 64 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 result was a complete failure. Little Reggie 
 shrank from the boys, and they from him, with 
 an instinctive sense that here there could be no 
 common interests or sympathy; and he was irri 
 tably intolerant of the palpable condescension of 
 the girls. About this time his godfather, Regi 
 nald Leon, removed his family from the suburbs 
 and became a close neighbor of the Laws. This 
 brought about a most surprising result. Little 
 Ethel Leon, so hardy, active and independent, and 
 poor ailing, dependent, sedentary Reggie became 
 the firmest of friends. Ethel was three years 
 Reggie's junior, but as she had always been made 
 a sensible companion of by her clever father she 
 was thoughtful and discreet far beyond her years. 
 She was an exceptionally observant, warm-harted 
 child, and she no sooner saw the state of affairs at 
 the Laws than she set herself to win over the lonely, 
 suffering boy and brighten him up. Her advances 
 showed wonderful tact, and her success was quick 
 and supreme, Reggie, conscious of genuine in 
 terest and sympathy in a contemporary at last, 
 poured out upon her the affectionate comradeship 
 which, under more normal conditions, would have 
 been divided amongst many; the strength of the 
 girl and the weakness of the boy fed and thrived 
 upon each other, and from their early teens their 
 interest and pleasure in life became centered in 
 each other. On her side it was a fiercely protect-
 
 THE SILLY BOY 65 
 
 ing love, on his a humble, adoring one. And the 
 fond fathers looked on in tender amusement. 
 
 As Reggie approached manhood he wasted 
 away more and more rapidly; but his spirits rose 
 with his steady decline, and he talked hopefully of 
 the future. He and Ethel celebrated his twenty- 
 first birthday by solemnly becoming engaged to 
 each other. That he was going to make an early 
 and gentle exit from the world all, save himself 
 and Ethel, now realized; and Mr. Leon mus 
 tered up his courage and gave Ethel a gentle 
 warning. But she repudiated it hotly: 
 
 "People who are going to die don't talk as Reg 
 talks, they seem to know it remember mama and 
 grandma ! Why, Reg talked all yesterday of our 
 future home, and planned out everything. He 
 couldn't have bothered with it if he were dying. 
 But you are all enough to drive him into his grave 
 with your gloomy prophecies and me too!" 
 And her tears gushed forth. 
 
 Her father soothed her as well as he could, but 
 he persisted nevertheless with what he felt to be 
 his duty. 
 
 "I I am afraid, my child, his optimism is only 
 a feature of his disease." 
 
 "I don't believe it," she sobbed. "And, any 
 way, suppose you are right, what difference would 
 that make in our position to each other? Do you 
 think I would draw back? If he is to die, he 
 shall die as happy as I can make him!" 
 
 5
 
 66 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "There, there, daughter! I only wished to 
 break the force of the shock if possible, and to 
 entreat you to hold yourself in check Come! 
 Dry your tears. I must go." 
 
 But Ethel clung to her father and strugled to 
 extort from him a word of hope struggled in 
 vain, for Mr. Leon crushed down his sympathy 
 and manfully withheld it. And this was all the 
 opposition the parents on either side had the heart 
 to make to that pathetic engagement. But they 
 extorted from the principals a promise that the 
 engagement should not progress further, on the 
 ground that, as yet, they were rather too young. 
 Reggie bestirred himself, however, and earned the 
 money for the ring, which was to be proudly worn 
 by and by earned it by carrying off the prize in 
 a competition offered by a certain paper for an 
 article on a subject he was interested in. And, 
 even when he took to his bed, he continued to talk 
 brightly of their future home it was only just 
 before the end that, rousing suddenly from a stu 
 por, he turned to Ethel and gasped surprisedly: 
 
 "Ethel * * * * do you know? * * 
 * I believe I'm not going * * to reach 
 
 that home * * * * after all!" 
 
 Thus, at eighteen, Ethel became a sorrowfully 
 chastened woman all that remained to her of that 
 youthfully heedless and impassioned love-dream 
 was a copy of the prize article and a simple half- 
 hoop of pearls.
 
 THE SILLY BOY 67 
 
 As the years passed on and she ceased to sorrow 
 for him, Ethel often looked back on the episode of 
 Reggie with wonder; for it had happened early, 
 it was the reckless impulse of two utterly undisci 
 plined hearts, and she no longer grieved over the 
 outcome and yet that brief engagament, to the 
 astonishment of all, remained this much to her: 
 she never fell in love again, and she never ceased 
 to fight any reflection on Reggie's memory as vin- 
 dicatively as she had fought his battles in their 
 long-ago childhood days. Perhaps her nature 
 was too strong to give and take anything lightly, 
 and having loved and been loved thoroughly that 
 part of her temperament was exhausted; and no 
 doubt, in dying as he did, Reggie had made the 
 theme more sacred to himself than a life of devo 
 tion might have accomplished. Thus it was that 
 Mrs. Leon's freful, unfeeling cry of regret that 
 the "silly boy" had not lived struck home and 
 drove Ethel to her room before her explanation 
 and appeal had been made a concession on her 
 part which, in all human probability, would have 
 proved the death-warrant of this strange Record. 
 
 Ethel began to think out the new future circum 
 stances had opened to her, as she at length wearily 
 rose and began to dress for dinner. Her magnifi 
 cent hair was always well-dressed, and she now put 
 it up with special care. She would be a nurse, she 
 decided, as she gave it the finishing touches. In 
 what other capacity could she find a wider sphere
 
 68 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 of healthful and vicariously useful industry. 
 None! And medical matters had always called 
 forth her keenest interest. But if she would do 
 her best by it she must set about this care-free of all 
 family worries; and Ethel desired to undertake 
 nothing half-heartedly. Yes, she must enter on 
 her course of study where she would be quite out 
 of touch with all relatives and friends with claims 
 on her society and the right to interfere with her. 
 She realized the full importance of this, and the 
 thought of a gloriously unsupervised freedom of 
 thought and action thrilled her pleasurably. Her 
 own mother had been a Miss Cain, the present 
 Mrs. Leon a Miss Arton, and the Leons, Cains, 
 and Artons were scattered profusely over the 
 I Northern States, and each family had a wide circle 
 of friends. Therefore, Ethel decided that she 
 would retreat to the sunny South. 
 
 ' 'Away down South in Dixie,' " she hummed 
 happily, as she turned away from the mirror and 
 proceeded to select and substitute a more dainty 
 costume for the trim waist and skirt she was wear 
 ing. Although she could scarcely be accused of 
 vanity, Ethel was fastidious about her clothes, and 
 they always suited and fitted her to a nicety. If 
 her feet were not small, their garniture was always 
 of the neatest possible description, and the same 
 might be said of her hands. She now put on a 
 maize-colored silk gown, which admirably set off 
 the sheen of her hair and the velvety darkness of
 
 THE SILLY BOY 69 
 
 her eyes. The fashion of the dress left her 
 throat a little exposed, and round it she placed a 
 simple band of black velvet. She had a masculine 
 contempt for jewelry, and wore none, save a 
 simply chased gold ring on her right hand, a 
 present from her father, above which was Reg 
 gie's half-hoop of pearls. 
 
 "How tired I feel, and how ghastly I look!" 
 she said to her faithful mirror. She walked to 
 the stationary washstand, and sponging her face 
 with cold water, rubbed it vigorously. When she 
 rejoined her step-mother and sisters in the back 
 parlor she looked as usual, a stately, well-groomed 
 woman, who claimed your interest the moment she 
 spoke to you. 
 
 "And now calmly to face the music, and throw 
 oil on the troubled waters," she thought, as she 
 looked at the three women. "Rally round me, 
 you all my forces 1" 
 
 But there was an ominous quietude about Ethel 
 this evening, of which she herself was unconscious, 
 but which instantly impressed the others. It some 
 how awed the tempers of Mrs. Leon and Etta into 
 submission, and vaguely distressed Addie. When 
 Ethel bent her proud head to her step-mother and 
 said : 
 
 "I'm sorry I lost my temper just now, mother, 
 I hope you'll overlook it!" 
 
 The latter, forgetting the additional recrimina-
 
 70 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 tions she had been conjuring up for the culprit's 
 further benefit, merely stammered: 
 
 "All right, Ethel I'm sorry I thoughtlessly 
 excited you." And abruptly changed the subject. 
 
 Ethel then sat down by Etta, and took her hand; 
 and, to her surprise, was not repulsed. Finding 
 the domestic matters thus quiescent, Ethel breathed 
 a sigh of satisfaction and gratitude for this unex 
 pected boon, and took courage. Henrietta's soft 
 round cheek was pale, and her naturally laughing 
 brown eyes solemn and heavy; her lips, too, met 
 in a straight, pallid line, though ordinarily they 
 were ruby, dimpled and smiling. The child's face 
 plainly showed the storm she had passed through, 
 and Ethel's big heart ached over her. And as if 
 in defiance of her sense of desolation, Etta had 
 donned a new frock, and had disposed of her 
 dusky curls even more coquettishly than ever. 
 Ethel called back into the downcast baby face its 
 customary wild-rose hue by touching it caressingly 
 with her lips. 
 
 "This dress is sweet, Ettie," she said brightly 
 to the vain little soul, as she toyed with the lace 
 and ribbon about the pretty throat, "and it suits 
 you to perfection. Blue is certainly your color. 
 Seth was telling me this afternoon how much you 
 and Ad were admired last night, but he gave the 
 palm to you. That white silk with pink rose 
 buds and your glowing duskiness was a famous 
 scheme of coloring certainly quite one of moth-
 
 THE SILLY BOY 71 
 
 er's chef-d'oeuvres. I should have liked to have 
 heard more of the ball from Seth, but he wasn't 
 here very long. He returned a book I had lent 
 him. Saturday afternoon is usually a socially busy 
 one for young business men ; I suppose he had an 
 engagement. Seth has such a lot of friends, you 
 know, and they must be satisfied to take their turn. 
 
 Etta was brightening rapidly. 
 
 "Yes, I know he had an engagement," she as 
 serted proudly, now quite reassured. "Otherwise, 
 I am sure I I think he would have gone with 
 us on the lake." 
 
 "Undoubtedly. He is very fond of you and 
 Ad, and, I know, always enjoys an outing with 
 you." 
 
 Dinner was now announced by the maid rolling 
 back the folding-doors which shut off the dining- 
 room from the back parlor. Ethel drew Etta's 
 arm through hers, as they rose and followed Mrs. 
 Leon and Addie into the dining-room, and she 
 felt the girl's fingers tremble and cling round hers. 
 But in spite of Ethel's unquestionable triumphs in 
 the library, the dinner passed off uncomfortably. 
 All were uneasily conscious of a subtle restraint 
 toward each other, and showed it plainly. Happy 
 Addie gallantly threw herself into the breach and 
 talked and joked her best, and Ethel caught the 
 ball with unfailing energy and tact. But their 
 efforts were artificial, and waned under the frank 
 depression of the other two. When they reas-
 
 72 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 sembled in the back parlor Mrs. Leon and her 
 daughters fell back on their favorite occupation 
 of fancy work, and Ethel, as usual, took up a 
 book. 
 
 Ethel was a great novel reader, and Dickens 
 was her favorite novelist; but now she fluttered 
 the leaves of her favorite Martin Chuzzlewil ab 
 sently, and, so distrait was her mind that she read 
 the chapter relating to Sairy Camp's famous tea- 
 party without a smile even Betsy Prig's inimit 
 able 'I don't believe there's no sich person!' failed 
 to rouse her. Most of her friends regarded her 
 partiality for this book, which spared neither her 
 country nor her countrymen, as unaccountable; 
 but Ethel's mind was sufficiently well-balanced 
 not to shrink from just criticism, she even had a 
 weakness for it when it was wittily put. But the 
 question now absorbing all her faculties was this : 
 Should she speak out her mind to her step-mother 
 and sisters, or should she simply take French leave 
 of them? The more she dwelt on the matter the 
 more she inclined toward the latter alternative. 
 True, the first was the more fitting and the more 
 brave; but Ethel writhed at the thought of the 
 scenes her experience told her would inevitably fol 
 low its adoption. These three women before her 
 were all more or less selfish and shallow ; they cer 
 tainly wished to be free of her but comfortably! 
 Like the rest of mankind, they had their redeem 
 ing points, and Ethel knew they would not be
 
 THE SILLY BOY 73 
 
 without conscientious scruples against letting the 
 idolized daughter of a much-loved husband and 
 father quit the luxurious home which had always 
 sheltered her, to fight the rough world alone. 
 Yes, there would be their conscientious scruples 
 Mr. Leon's memory would excite to battle with, 
 and their remorse for they were not utterly 
 heartless at having pressed her to the step to 
 combat. 
 
 Ethel clearly foresaw the unreasonable, tire 
 some arguments, and distressing, hysterical plead 
 ings she would call down upon her head by pur 
 suing the more proper course of verbally giving 
 them her full confidences. On the other hand, 
 by taking the second cowardly alternative, she 
 would neatly avoid all that mutually enervating 
 and irritating friction : there would be a sharp 
 shock at first; and, although they might reproach 
 themselves, they would be powerless to do any 
 thing their nerve force would be thus far spared. 
 And then, as soon as they knew that she was set 
 tled and quite well and happy, which she must 
 contrive to let them know indirectly, they would 
 find pleasant diversion in the extra scope her ab 
 sence would afford them in their favorite field of 
 labor. Long before Ethel had finished the chap 
 ter she had decided to stand or fall by the second 
 alternative. 
 
 Well, what was the next question to be settled? 
 Her exact destination of course. "Away Down
 
 74 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 South" in Dixie sounded very romantic, but it was 
 also very vague. What and where were the most 
 prominent Southern hospitals? The moment she 
 asked herself this question, certain conversations 
 held at her father's house between his numerous 
 medical friends conversations to which she had 
 always been an interested listener recurred to 
 her. In spite of his success in business, it had been 
 the disappointment of her father's life that he 
 had not studied medicine, and he was never tired 
 of discussing that science. And now, from these 
 conversations, the names and respective location 
 of two Southern hospitals sprang out clearly, and 
 she distinctly remembered how highly they had 
 been spoken of The Johns Hopkins Hospital, 
 Baltimore, and the Charity Hospital, New Or- 
 A leans! New Orleans was farthest away, there 
 was something piquante and alluring in its foreign 
 elements she recalled with satisfaction that she 
 was a good French scholar; and the climate of 
 New Orleans had a special attraction to one who 
 revelled in heat and sunshine. New Orleans it 
 should be. 
 
 What next? 
 
 Well, she must have a safe confidant through 
 whom to receive tidings of her people and through 
 whom to let them know that all was well with 
 her. Who should it be ? Her choice was quickly 
 made Henry Law. To him alone she would 
 confide the secret of her destination, and trust him
 
 THE SILLY BOY 75 
 
 faithfully to protect her from all unwelcome vis 
 itors. 
 
 Was there anything more ? Her mother's little 
 fortune? Well, that was simple enough. Ac 
 cording to her mother's will it had passed abso 
 lutely into her hands on her attaining the age of 
 twenty-one, and her father had taught her how to 
 deal with it. 
 
 Now that all these necessary points were de 
 cided, and the first step toward the realization of 
 her desire lay plainly before her, namely privately 
 to see Henry Law on Monday, he always spent 
 Sunday out of town, Ethel again breathed a sigh 
 of satisfaction, and dismissed the subject, for the 
 present, from her mind.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 Henry Law was now a silver-haired man with 
 a pale, care-worn face and a student's stoop about 
 his tall, spare figure. He looked as dry as dust 
 and as solemn as an owl ; yet the man had a keen 
 sense of humor, and his conversation was, from 
 choice, always as frivolous in tone as the circum 
 stances would permit the funny side always 
 striking him most forcibly. Many a client had 
 been startled at seeing those hopelessly gloomy- 
 looking brown eyes subtly brighten, and those 
 prim, clean-shaven lips quiver into humorous 
 curves, while from the slow, monotonous voice fell 
 witty comments on the case. Yet his attention 
 never strayed from the facts, his grasp of them 
 never relaxed, his reasoning was none the less 
 sound on that account, and his judgment was con 
 sidered one of the best in Brooklyn. 
 
 He received his clerk's announcement of Ethel 
 on Monday morning with surprise ; it was the first 
 visit she had paid to his office, and it looked om 
 inously business-like. As he happened by good 
 fortune to. be disengaged, she was admitted at 
 once into his private sanctum. He greeted her as 
 usual by touching her forehead with his lips, and 
 placed a chair for her.
 
 THE MEDIATOR 77 
 
 "This is an unusual and an unexpected honor, 
 Ethel," he said, as he resumed his place before his 
 desk, "and looks serious. Now, don't be shy 
 what have you done?" 
 
 Ethel laughed at the question, and proceeded 
 briefly to unfold her plans and to ask her favor 
 of him. He was startled, and showed it. 
 
 "So you want to cut and run on the sly, eh?" 
 he queried with mock severity after a pause. "I 
 like your audacity in coming with such a tale to 
 such a severely proper person as myself! How 
 dare you do it, Ethel? You remind me of my 
 school-days, and make me tingle all over just as I 
 did the morning after I tried it, and was collared 
 and sent back to school." And he gave his should 
 ers a comic shake. 
 
 "Oh, I'm going one better than you did," she 
 retorted. 
 
 "Are you, indeed. Fie, fie!" 
 
 "Well, Mr. Law?" 
 
 "Well," he returned reflectively, pursing up his 
 mouth and tapping the desk with his ruler. "Now, 
 I suppose, Ethel, that captious step-mother of 
 yours and those jealous little cats your half-sisters 
 are responsible for this. You've been having a 
 row a regular domestic dust. It's been gradually 
 gathering for some time, of course, but I thought 
 you too capable and tactful ever to let it come to 
 a head. You've disappointed me." 
 
 "Now, Mr. Law, I'm going to do this simply
 
 78 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 because I want to desperately want to! That's 
 all." 
 
 "Did your heart run away with your judg 
 ment," he proceeded, with a mischievous twinkle 
 in his eyes, "and did you warn some innocent fly 
 from the pretty little parlor? Or did you set up 
 a stronger counter-attraction ? For shame, Ethel ! 
 / always credited you with the possession of that 
 most universally appreciated art the art of mind 
 ing your own business." 
 
 "I certainly flatter myself I possess it. But 
 aren't we straying from the point?" 
 
 "That a client should remind me of it! It's 
 worse than the cart before the horse, it's the child 
 before the veteran. Well, Ethel, you're a sensible 
 woman, and there's no rope round you you're 
 absolutely free, of course, to do as you like. But 
 it's a big undertaking, what you propose to do, 
 and I only hope you've thought it out fully from 
 all points of view. Have you, do you think?" 
 
 "Yes, I'm sure I have." 
 
 "May I ask when you came to this decision?" 
 
 "On Saturday. But it's been in my mind oh, 
 a long, long time." 
 
 "Won't you give it a little more time? Con 
 sider it a little longer?" 
 
 "Not a minute more than I can help," she re 
 torted firmly. "I feel I have wasted far too much 
 precious time already. I've already considered
 
 THE MEDIATOR 79 
 
 the matter carefully, and I am now quite resolved 
 on the venture surely that's enough?" 
 
 "Well, Ethel, you've, chosen a noble profession 
 and one I honestly believe that you are admirably 
 fitted for. A quick, level head, a calm, gentle 
 temperament, and a fine constitution are yours. 
 You'll make a tip-top nurse." 
 
 "I hope so." 
 
 "A nurse?" pursued the lawyer slowly study 
 ing her with a meditative critical eye "I believe, 
 Ethel, you'd make a tip-top lady-doctqr!" 
 
 "Well, I may eventually get there," she re 
 turned, with a smile. "But it's a stiff thing for 
 women, and nursing is a good probationary course 
 to it, isn't it?" 
 
 "Couldn't be better. And I've a prophetic feel 
 ing it will end in Ethel Leon, M. D." 
 
 "Well, will you good-naturedly be my go-be 
 tween, Mr. Law?" 
 
 "You are quite sure you are irrevocably decided 
 then?" 
 
 "Quite. Must I seek another accomplice, or 
 will you condescend to the role?" 
 
 "With pleasure, I'll condescend. There's 
 nothing I shall enjoy more than heading off the 
 domestic onslaught from you; for I'm morally 
 certain they've exasperated you into this you 
 hedged the question, you know. And although 
 I think you have decided on a splendid field of 
 action, for which you are quite fitted, I don't like
 
 80 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 to think of your roughing it at all. Never fear, 
 they shall find me adamant when their pigmy con 
 sciences send them here. They remind me of 
 birds, Eth, those three women very pretty, 
 graceful birds to admire from a distance, but too 
 much sharp beak and claws to be coveted at close 
 quarters." 
 
 Ethel smilingly shook her head, she knew it 
 was useless to remonstrate with her staunch old 
 friend, who always said and did what he pleased, 
 and she delicately turned the topic by thanking 
 him warmly for his ready help. 
 
 "They will worry you dreadfully," she added, 
 with a tardily remorseful thought of all her re 
 quest was entailing. "Are you sure you don't 
 mind?" 
 
 "Absolutely." 
 
 "Ah! You are good! good! The best friend 
 I have. I'll never forget all I owe you." 
 
 "Now, Ethel, I'm not immortal, old girl, re 
 member! Who shall we appoint in my stead in 
 case I drop before you are ready to reveal your 
 self to your people? My partner, Mr. Barrie, 
 eh? He's staunch and unsentimental enough. 
 We must cover this contingency, you know." 
 
 "Yes, let it be Mr. Barrie, if we must be dis 
 mal." 
 
 "It is often a lawyer's duty to be so. Mr. Bar 
 rie is my executor, too ! Well, I'll leave a private 
 note for him in case of my sudden demise."
 
 THE MEDIATOR 8 I 
 
 "Ah, what trouble I am giving you !" 
 
 "There, there!" he said. "You know I'm al 
 ways happy to be of any service to you. But I 
 say, Ethel, what will your step-mother say when 
 she sees your trunks come bumping downstairs? 
 Have you a plausible whopper ready?" 
 
 Ethel laughed merrily. 
 
 "You know mother and the girls always treat 
 themselves to a matinee every Wednesday after 
 noon," she said as soon as she had sobered down. 
 "I shall not accompany them next Wednesday, 
 and shall arrange for the expressman to abstract 
 my belongings then, and get away myself, after 
 leaving notes for them." 
 
 "You'll have a headache, I suppose," he sug 
 gested. "You with a headache, Eth ! Oh, I 
 don't like this business at all it's it's awfully 
 demoralizing!" 
 
 "No, I won't have a headache," she smiled; 
 "I'll simply emulate George Washington and say 
 I don't feel inclined to go." 
 
 "But, your trunks? You must be careful about 
 giving clues they will probe all possible sources 
 for information. The servants may notice the 
 titles of your expressman. Come, let's hear how 
 you propose to circumvent this obstacle?" 
 
 "I shall express in the first instance only as far 
 as the baggags office of the Pennsylvania Railroad 
 station; I shall be at the station at the same time
 
 82 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 as, or immediately after the arrival of my traps, 
 leaving the house, as I shall, at the same time. 
 From there, of course, I despatch them straight 
 to New Orleans. So if Katie is observant enough 
 to be able to identify my expressman they won't 
 get anything of moment out of him." 
 
 "Good. But where are you going to stay in 
 New Orleans while you are making arrangements 
 with the hospital?" he asked anxiously. "You 
 can't stay anywhere, you know." 
 
 "No, of course not. I've considered that." 
 
 "Perhaps you intended to ask me to advise you. 
 Well, personally, I don't know of any quiet, re 
 spectable boarding-houses there such as you 
 would desire; but I can easily find out for you. 
 You mustn't expect to get off in a rush." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Law. But, by a lucky 
 chance, I know of a suitable place. You remem 
 ber my traveling-friend, Mrs. Chance, who has 
 gone to live in Europe? Yes? Well, she stayed 
 some time in New Orleans before coming on here 
 to sail; and as she has a delightful way of ad 
 vertising the merits of those who serve her well, 
 she insisted on leaving me the card of the quiet, 
 respectable, and most comfortable boarding-house 
 where she stayed in New Orleans in case, as she 
 put it, I, or any of my friends, should ever desire 
 such a place. I put the card in my desk, carelessly 
 enough at the time, and I remembered and looked 
 for it with feverish eagerness yesterday. I found
 
 THE MEDIATOR 83 
 
 it all right. They say put away an unwanted thing 
 carefully, and it will, in time, prove its gratitude 
 for your generosity by turning up trumps at a 
 crisis. There's a proverb, I believe, to support 
 the saying, but I've forgotten it still, I've proved 
 its truth anyway" 
 
 "Well," he smiled, "Mrs. Chance is a sensible, 
 well-balanced woman of the world I suppose 
 it's all right. Have you wired them?" 
 
 "Yes, this morning. And I told thejn to an 
 swer me here, care of you. It was cheek I know, 
 but I couldn't risk mother or the girls getting to 
 know of the telegram and questioning me about 
 it." 
 
 "You take my breath away with your coolness, 
 Eth ! You haven't even given me a chance for de 
 fence. You've heartlessly made me your accom 
 plice while I was in blissful ignorance of the whole 
 audacious plot!" 
 
 "Well, I knew you would help me and I 
 wasn't mistaken, was I?" 
 
 "Suppose Mrs. Chance's friend can't take you 
 in, Ethel?" 
 
 "Well, I've asked her then to recommend some 
 place." 
 
 "I like that. It shows me that you can think 
 of contingencies, and provide for them. You can 
 take care of yourself, Eth." 
 
 "I hope so. I should be a sad case if I couldn't 
 at 27 years of age."
 
 84 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "And how much are you going to tell Mrs. 
 Leon and the girls in your farewell notes?" 
 
 "Not much. I shall just tell them that I've de 
 cided to go off and feel my wings a bit only I'll 
 put it with more sentiment of course. I won't tell 
 them anything about the nursing yet I think; it 
 might help them to trace me, and I don't want to 
 be interfered with until the thing is done. I'll tell 
 them not to worry themselves, or you, or me 
 and to communicate with me (as I shall with 
 them) through you." 
 
 "Humph! Pretty sound. And now we must 
 talk about your money." 
 
 "Yes," returned Ethel. "I should like to dis 
 cuss that subject with you." And an animated 
 discussion ensued. 
 
 Ethel's mother had left her $40,000 invested in 
 United States coupon bonds. The trustees were 
 Mr. Leon and Henry Law, the former having the 
 custody of the securities. According to her moth 
 er's will, the principal was to be paid to Ethel un 
 conditionally on her attaining the age of twenty- 
 one, or, if she married before this, it was to be 
 settled on herself and her children; the interest 
 pending either of these events was to be used, of 
 course, at the discretion of the trustees, for her 
 maintenance, pleasure, and education. The in 
 vestment had never been varied, and the securities 
 were kept at the Brooklyn Safe Deposit Company. 
 They had been formally handed over to Ethel
 
 THE MEDIATOR 85 
 
 by the trustees on her attaining the dignity of 
 twenty-one years of age. They brought Ethel a 
 secure and amply sufficient income of $1,000 a 
 year, paid half yearly, and it was simply to detach 
 the coupons at their due date and deposit them as 
 cash in her bank. 
 
 The bonds, by reason of their "gilt-edged" se 
 curity, were, too, readily convertible into cash at 
 any time in any city here or abroad. It will there 
 fore be readily seen that Ethel's facilities for deal 
 ing with her capital and interest were simplicity 
 itself, and needed no help from any one. But she 
 was very glad to discuss with her experienced old 
 friend the best means of transferring her principal 
 to New Orleans. As she had a fair amount of 
 cash on hand, she was fully prepared to meet the 
 expenses which would be entailed by her contem 
 plated change ; and it was decided that the bonds 
 should be sent to her, half at once and half a few 
 days later, as an extra precaution, though the Na 
 tional Express Company, insured for a sum large 
 enough to secure extra vigilance although, with 
 pride let it be said, that parcels in the hands of 
 United States express companies are as safe as 
 human foresight and care can make them. 
 
 This point settled, Ethel asked how soon she 
 might reasonably expect an answer to her tele 
 gram. 
 
 "If the wires are propitious, Eth, in a couple 
 of hours or less."
 
 86 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 The clerk here intruded to announce a client, 
 and Ethel rose. 
 
 "I sent the telegram about an hour ago," she 
 said. "I'll look in again in an hour's time." 
 
 "All right. But you can wait here if you like, 
 there's another room where you can be quite pri 
 vate." 
 
 "No, thanks. I've some shopping to do, and it 
 will pass the time quickly for me." 
 
 She nodded and smiled, and passed out. 
 
 When, after rather more than an hour's ab 
 sence, Ethel returned to the office, Mr. Law was 
 still engaged, and she was shown into an unoccu 
 pied front room to await his leisure. The hum 
 and rattle of the busy street drove her from the 
 window, for she was beginning to feel the strain 
 of unusual excitement and restlessness. She sank 
 into a comfortable chair in a corner of the room, 
 and idly studied a flaring calendar on the portion 
 of the wall opposite her formed by the projection 
 of the mantelpiece. From marveling over the 
 taste which had robed the chubby, red-faced milk 
 maid in a scarlet frock, a bright blue apron, and 
 a lilac sun-bonnet, and made her bovine companion 
 a mottled creature of misty rain-bowed hues, 
 Ethel's eyes wandered for relief to the small white 
 square where sable letters and figures set forth 
 the month and date. 
 
 "I wonder what I shall be doing this day
 
 THE MEDIATOR 87 
 
 month," she thought, and immediately lost herself 
 in a soothing haze of pleasant conjecture. 
 
 Mr. Law at length joined her. He held the 
 fateful telegram in his hand, and handed it to her 
 silently. Ethel's eyes flashed and her face flushed 
 eagerly as she took it gratefully from him and 
 tore it open. On scanning the few lines, she mur 
 mured : 
 
 "Thank goodness, there's no need for further 
 delay!" 
 
 "So eager to be off, Eth?" he asked, rather 
 sadly. 
 
 "Yes, so eager!" she returned, placing the tele 
 gram in his hands. 
 
 "Well," he observed, after reading it, "so that's 
 all right Mrs. Rice can take you in. I'm very 
 glad." 
 
 "So am I." 
 
 "I should think so ! You look it. And as reso 
 lute and self-confident as a seasoned warrior! 
 With your nerve and energy you ought to make 
 that sound brain of yours accomplish wonders, 
 Eth. A nurse indeed ! I am more sure than ever 
 that you ought to be a doctor!" 
 
 "We agreed that nursing is a good initial step," 
 she smiled. 
 
 "No doubt of it. So nothing now remains 
 but" 
 
 "To say good-by," she finished, as he paused. 
 And as she uttered the words the eager light in
 
 88 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 her eyes, the eager flush on her face faded, and 
 she grew pale and sad. 
 
 He came close to her, and laid his hands on her 
 shoulders. 
 
 "Ethel," he said, gazing earnestly into her up 
 turned, attentive face, "I hope you will not fail 
 to consult me in all doubts and difficulties. I trust 
 you to do so or I could not let you go your own 
 way so easily. Remember you command my ser 
 vices, and you always must command them while 
 I live, in a threefold sense first, in your own 
 right, as a woman who has won and held my af 
 fection and esteem for many long years ; secondly, 
 as the cherished daughter of my staunch old com 
 rade, Reginald Leon, who now appeals to me more 
 strongly than ever from the silent land of shad 
 ows; and thirdly, as the woman my poor dead 
 boy would have gladly called his wife. You will 
 never forget this, will you? No? That's right! 
 You will write to me often, and keep me fully 
 posted on all that concerns you? You promise? 
 That's well. There! Don't cry, old girl. God 
 bless and guard you." 
 
 They kissed each other solemnly, lingeringly, as 
 though all the secrets of the future lay mercilessly 
 bare to their shrinking eyes and they knew it to 
 be for the last time, and Ethel passed swiftly out. 
 
 Henry Law lingered on in the room, staring 
 stupidly through the window. The hideous, dark 
 ening structure of the elevated railroad cast its
 
 THE MEDIATOR 89 
 
 blight over the prospect, and trains boomed and 
 rattled and hissed their way along it, calling forth 
 a sympathetic tremble and hum from the windows, 
 without awakening the busy lawyer to any sense 
 of the precious fleeting moments. His clerk, after 
 vainly knocking, opened the door and informed 
 his master of the advent of a fresh client. 
 
 "I hope I've done right, Pinner!" was the un 
 intelligible response. "I hope to God that I've 
 acted for the best!" Then, as they stared at each 
 other blankly, the lawyer added, with the old in 
 eradicable twinkle of the eye and quiver of the 
 lip, "But I don't see that I had any choice, Pin 
 ner! What the devil else could I have done?" 
 
 "Mr. Gilder says he's in the devil of a hurry, 
 sir," the puzzled clerk ventured. 
 
 "Did he? So was Ethel. Come along."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A CAP WHICH FITTED MANY 
 
 It was a conscience-stricken trio that assembled 
 in Mrs. Leon's room a quarter of an hour or so 
 after the return from the matinee that is to say, 
 after these ladies had repaired to their respective 
 rooms to put away their out-door adornments, and, 
 incidentally, to read wonderingly the note which 
 Ethel had pinned on each pin-cushion. They met 
 on the threshold of Mrs. Leon's room, each with 
 a note in her hand, and stared at each other in 
 white dismay. There was no need to make any 
 disclosures: they met fully posted. They turned 
 into the room, after that first awful, silent inspec 
 tion of each other, and faced about once more. 
 Mrs. Leon managed to speak first. 
 
 "What's to be done, girls?" she asked help 
 lessly. "This is terrible !" 
 
 "See Mr. Law at once!" Addle cried. "Ethel 
 says we are to hear of her through him. She also 
 commands us not to worry him; but I'll worry 
 him! /'// worry his existence out of him but he 
 shall tell me where Ethel is!" 
 
 "But Ethel says she has bound him to secrecy," 
 Mrs. Leon whimpered, "and you don't know what 
 these lawyers are! Oh, dear, oh, dear! What 
 shall we do? It is most heartless of Ethel."
 
 CAP WHICH FITTED MANY 91 
 
 "Cruel!" Etta added. 
 
 Adelaide favored her mother and sister with a 
 steady, contemptuous stare, under which their pale 
 faces turned crimson. 
 
 "But we may get something out of Mr. Law," 
 Etta urged hurriedly, "and the sooner the better. 
 We can't let Ethel go." 
 
 "No, of course not!" the others chimed in. 
 
 Mrs. Leon turned away to get out her bonnet 
 and wrap again, wavered and fell weakly into a 
 chair. 
 
 "I'm trembling all over," she moaned. "I 
 simply can't go to him. Telephone him, Addie, 
 please to come here as soon as possible." 
 
 "Yes, that would be better," Addie reflected, 
 "for it's nearly time for him to leave his office." 
 
 She ran down to call him up, and quickly re 
 turned with the information that he would come 
 up after dinner, that he was coming anyway. 
 
 Dinner passed off drearily enough. Mrs. Leon 
 was querulous with Katie, otherwise a heavy si 
 lence reigned. The mistress felt an unreasonable 
 anger against the girl for not having managed 
 somehow to prevent Ethel's departure. She ques 
 tioned her mercilessly on the subject. All Katie 
 could tell her was that Miss Ethel had warned 
 her, immediately after the others had started for 
 the theater that the expressman was coming for 
 her trunks, which were all ready packed in the 
 box-room. Had Katie noticed the name of the
 
 92 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 express company? Yes, and she gave it. But this 
 man, appealed to the next morning, could only say 
 that he had been commissioned to take these par 
 ticular trunks to the baggage office of the Jersey 
 Station, so this hope of a clue to Ethel's destina 
 tion was soon crushed. Continuing, Katie said 
 that she had ventured to express her surprise at the 
 sudden departure while all the rest of the family 
 were out, and Miss Ethel had smilingly assured 
 her that it was "all right." She had asked Miss 
 Ethel if she would be away long, and she an 
 swered, "Yes, some time." Miss Ethel had made 
 the cook and herself a present and bade them a 
 cordial good-by. "Did Mrs. Leon not know of 
 Miss Ethel's intentions?" the puzzled Katie asked, 
 scenting a romance. Too late, Mrs. Leon tried 
 to save her dignity, "Of course! What are you 
 thinking of? I only wanted to know how Miss 
 Ethel got off." 
 
 But Katie was not to be deceived. When her 
 duties in the dining-room were over, she joined 
 her fellow-servant in the kitchen with glee, and 
 while she rubbed the silver with unusual vigor, 
 the spicy gossip proving an extraordinary fillip to 
 her energy, she entertained the cook with the news 
 that Miss Ethel had really run away; that the 
 Missus knew nothing of it, though she was trying 
 to throw sand in their eyes. 
 
 "Shure, I'm sorry!" Katie sighed. "It's our 
 selves will be missing her, with her swate ways."
 
 CAP WHICH FITTED MANY 93 
 
 "Yes," the cook agreed. "Give me Miss Ethel 
 afore them all. Maybe she'll come back, bless 
 her!" 
 
 Katie dropped a tear. 
 
 "I don't believe she will," she faltered. "Not 
 soon, at any rate. She's taken all her things. But 
 she'll get on, Lord bless her! wherever she goes. 
 She's a way with her as makes it a pleasure to do 
 what she asks." 
 
 "Hasn't she now!" the cook responded with 
 animation. "Lord! if the poor Master could 
 know! I hope the Missus ain't been rowing her; 
 she's mortal hard to please at times." 
 
 And they lapsed into speculation as to the cause 
 of this unexpected and regretted defection, a dis 
 course which was interrupted by a ring at the 
 front door, and resumed with animation on Katie's 
 return. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Law was having a hard time 
 of it upstairs, and acquitting himself wonderfully 
 well. They tried him with entreaties, threats, pas 
 sion, and tears ! He was sympathetic, he was very 
 gentle, very patient, but he was not amenable. He 
 waited until they had thoroughly convinced them 
 selves of this, and then quietly took his leave, 
 earnestly recommending them to resign themselves 
 as quickly as possible to the position that it was 
 not to be stormed, or subtly undermined; it was 
 impregnable. The exhausted women then betook 
 themselves to their rooms and to bed.
 
 94 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 Soon after midnight Etta was roughly roused 
 out of an uneasy slumber. She sat up in alarm; 
 and, by the feeble, unsteady light of an intrusive 
 candle, beheld her sister, disheveled, tear-marred, 
 and in hastily assumed dressing-gown. 
 
 "Oh, Etta!" Addie cried, with another re 
 morseless shake. "How can you sleep like that, 
 you selfish, careless thing ! I haven't been able to 
 lose myself for a moment, and I've been so 
 wretched! I've thought, and thought, and 
 thought, how we could win poor Ethel back, and 
 the only way that seems to me to offer any hope 
 is this you must be a man I" 
 
 Henrietta stared at her sister in comic dismay. 
 
 "I can't!" she snapped irritably, and sinking 
 back cosily on her warm pillows. "Don't be 
 idiotic! I'm sure you might leave me alone, 
 Addie, when I'm in peace. I've worried enough, 
 Heaven knows; and then, when I've not long 
 dozed off, you wake me as if the house was burn 
 ing down to tell me I must be a man ! You 
 must be mad you look like Ophelia. Go back 
 to bed." 
 
 "You must act like a man!" Addie persisted 
 resolutely. "If you close your eyes, I'll pinch 
 you. I mean, of course, about Seth." 
 
 "I hate him !" Etta spluttered viciously, now 
 dismissing all thought of sleep and sitting up with 
 energy. "The whole world is welcome to him if
 
 CAP WHICH FITTED MANY 95 
 
 it wants him. I'd like to see him divided up into 
 little pieces!" 
 
 "That's right. That's what I wanted to hear," 
 responded Addie, with equal blood-thirstiness. 
 "Now, you must tell him that, Etta, after you've 
 told him that you've made an ass of yourself about 
 him before Ethel, and she's gone away, like the 
 unselfish, self-sacrificing thing she is, to leave the 
 field clear for you." 
 
 "O, I say!" ejaculated Etta, not unnaturally 
 appalled. 
 
 "That's what you must do," proceeded Addie 
 relentlessly. ''That's what I meant by being a 
 man. You must send Seth to find her; and he'll 
 bring her back, when she knows you've sickened 
 of him, because, I'm sure, she's fond of him !" 
 
 "But how on earth is he to find her?" queried 
 Etta nervously. 
 
 "Trust him. He loves her." Etta winced at 
 this brutality. "Once let him know that she's 
 only run away on your account, and he'll track her 
 down soon enough." 
 
 "But the time his business?" 
 
 "Pshaw ! Isn't he with his wealthy old father, 
 who would be glad enough to see Ethel his wife? 
 He can easily arrange for his absence." 
 
 "If you feel so strongly about this," Etta ob 
 served petulantly, "why don't you do it yourself? 
 It's the meanest thing I ever heard of to make me 
 do it!"
 
 
 96 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "Come! Don't be an It! Don't you see I 
 can't convince him as you can? I'd come to him 
 at a suspicious disadvantage, wouldn't I? peach 
 ing on a sister!" 
 
 "But however shall I manage it?" poor little 
 Etta asked shiveringly. "I can't! It's impossible! 
 On the face of it, it's impossible." 
 
 "Ethel managed a harder thing for you," the 
 dauntless Addie pursued. "Are you going to let 
 her drift away from us when you can bring her 
 back? How do you suppose you're going to feel 
 about it afterward?" 
 
 "Perhaps she's gone on Dr. Sartin's account, 
 and it's Mommer's business," Etta maliciously 
 suggested. 
 
 "Little coward!" Addie cried scornfully. "That 
 old fossil ! Mommer's blind, or she couldn't have 
 worried over that." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well, Etta? Come! Think of all we owe 
 Ethel think of dear old Pop." 
 
 There was an anxious, painful silence, during 
 which the sisters stared at each other. 
 
 "I'll do it!" Etta gasped at last, suddenly in 
 spired. "I'll act the man, although I can't be one. 
 And, Addie, you're not an idiot, dear, you're a fine 
 little woman." 
 
 "Bless you, Sis!" I knew there was real grit in 
 you. To-morrow?" 
 
 "Yes, to-morrow."
 
 CAP WHICH FITTED MANY 97 
 
 And with a warm embrace the twins parted. 
 
 The next evening Seth, summoned by telephone 
 to a private interview with Etta on a matter of 
 the gravest importance, presented himself wonder- 
 ingly and not a little apprehensively. The door 
 of communication between the front and back par 
 lor was drawn together, and this looked ominous 
 as well as unusual to Seth, when the maid ushered 
 him into the former room. Behind that ominous- 
 looking door General Adelaide mounted guard 
 over the inquisitive but cowed mother, and was 
 ready to tackle any other visitors who might 
 chance to call inopportunely. Etta awaited Seth in 
 the farthest corner of the long room, and, after 
 greeting him gravely, asked him to sit down, in 
 dicating a chair close by, facing her. He obeyed 
 her, looking as he felt, thoroughly puzzled. What 
 had become o^ Etta's familiar rosy coloring, gay 
 smiles, and coquettish manner? The child was 
 taken completely out of herself. This pale, se 
 rious little woman, without a trace of self-con 
 sciousness, was a stranger to him, an interesting 
 stranger. 
 
 "Whatever has happened, Ettie?" he asked 
 alarmedly, compassionately. 
 
 In a subdued way she at once told him of Ethel's 
 abrupt departure, repeated the gist of the farewell 
 notes, and gave him a graphic description of their 
 unsuccessful contest with Mr. Law. Seth was
 
 98 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 stunned: he couldn't speak; he couldn't move; 
 he couldn't think. Ethel gone ! out of his sight, 
 out of his life ! His white, shocked face and de 
 spairing gaze said this to Etta, nothing more. She 
 felt a reflection of the pang which ran through 
 him, and pityingly withdrew her eyes. 
 
 "We have been very, very unhappy over it," 
 she faltered on, "as you can understand. We're 
 all downright sick with anxiety. Of course, we 
 mean to leave no stone unturned to find Ethel, 
 and induce her to come back; but it's going to be 
 hard work hard work to find her, and harder 
 work, I expect, to make her come home again. 
 Ethel, once her mind is made up, is very unyield 
 ing as unyielding as that hardened old sinner 
 Henry Law!" 
 
 Seth partially regained the use of his tongue, 
 but it moved stiffly. 
 
 "They are two rocks!" he said, with rising 
 indignation. "It's it's atrocious of them. I 
 I don't see that you can do anything. You're 
 you're perfectly helpless." 
 
 The missing color came back to Etta's face too 
 generously: she turned crimson. Seth did not 
 notice it: his eyes were on the carpet, and his 
 thoughts far away. She recalled both to herself 
 with lightning-like rapidity. 
 
 "No, I don't think we are perfectly helpless," 
 she said swiftly, fearing her courage would desert 
 her if she hesitated a moment. "I think we can
 
 CAP WHICH FITTED MANY 99 
 
 do something to bring Ethel back but, oh, it is 
 hard, horrid!" 
 
 "What can you mean, Etta?" 
 
 Had Etta and Addie been less young inexpe 
 rienced, and impulsive, they could not, between 
 them, have accomplished this fateful interview: 
 a thousand considerations outside the principal 
 one would have held them in check. But, as it 
 was, they could only see it from one point of 
 view, and Etta now followed up Addie's lead with 
 desperate heedlessness. 
 
 "I mean," she said stoutly, but with a burning 
 face and brilliant, frightened eyes, "that I believe 
 Ethel has gone away on your and my account, and 
 that we can find her and persuade her to come 
 back if if only we try hard enough!" 
 
 "I I don't understand," he stammered. "I 
 feel awfully stupid. You mean " 
 
 He was growing frightened too. 
 
 She was white again, and her lips were quiver 
 ing. 
 
 "I I mean," she gasped, "that I that 
 
 Ethel .... that you 
 
 She paused abruptly, and began to cry. 
 
 His uneasiness, his self-consciousness fled at the 
 appealing spectacle of beauty, helpless and in dis 
 tress: he thought only of comforting her, and, 
 manlike, it was with a caress. He took possession 
 of her hands, and squeezed them tenderly. 
 
 "There! don't cry, Ettie!" he whispered sooth-
 
 IOO A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 ingly. "Just tell me everything freely, and see if 
 we don't do all we can." 
 
 She suddenly tore her hands from him. 
 
 "Don't presume to touch me!" she cried, with 
 childish indignation, as she wiped away her tears. 
 "I hate you, Seth Lomack, as I never hated any 
 one before. Yes, you may stare. I do hate you, 
 you conceited, troublesome, mischief-making 
 thing!" 
 
 "Etta!" 
 
 She rose regally, and swept him a mocking 
 curtsy. 
 
 "The pretty truth is, sir," she said, warming 
 up to her subject, "that I actually fancied I was 
 in love with you, and I was jealous of Ethel and 
 made her miserable, and she has run off to be out 
 of the way. Now could you have thought me so 
 insane? But I wonder at myself now!" 
 
 "There, Etta !" he cried shrinkingly. "Don't 
 say any more, child! you are over-excited and 
 don't know what you're saying. This is nonsense. 
 Let me go now, and we'll talk about Ethel an 
 other time." He was anxious to shield the girl 
 from herself, anxious to be alone and think it all 
 out. 
 
 But the girl stood over his chair, adamant. 
 
 "If you attempt to go," she cried dauntlessly, 
 "I'll pull you back by the coat-tails. I tell you 
 I'm quite capable of it. It isn't nonsense, Seth, 
 really! It's the sacred truth. You want to see
 
 CAP WHICH FITTED MANY IOI 
 
 Ethel back amongst us as much as we do, don't 
 you? Of course! Well, then, listen to me. I 
 know you love Ethel, and I believe she loves you. 
 Get leave from your father; hunt her down; tell 
 her I've found out that I really cordially detest 
 you, and bring her home." 
 
 "Etta! It would be no use." But he was 
 stabbed by the thought that, though Etta was 
 wrong in her suspicion that Ethel loved him, she 
 might be right in her surmise that Ethel had gone 
 away fearing he would continue to press his suit, 
 to leave the field open. He must write to Ethel 
 and reassure her on the point. Had his prema 
 ture proposal actually caused the catstrophe? 
 Etta again recalled his thoughts to herself. 
 
 "It would be of use, I tell you !" she cried 
 with a stamp of the foot. "Just you find Ethel, 
 tell her that I loathe you for being the cause of 
 all this and will never tolerate you again except as 
 her husband, and you'll see. Come ! You'll do it, 
 won't you?" 
 
 He stared at her. He was flushed, embarrased, 
 tongue-tied, amazed ! He had known this girl for 
 years and years, and yet he had never really 
 sounded her. The pretty pool appeared so shal 
 low ; and, like most of us, he had unquestioningly 
 accepted that most unreliable of all evidence 
 the mere evidence of the eye. And the depth of 
 that same pool was overwhelming him. She mis 
 understood his silence, and grew troubled again.
 
 102 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "I I suppose, Seth, you're surprised 
 shocked at my speaking out my heart to you in 
 this manner. It's unconventional, brazen, if 
 you like, and, I know, only a very big thing 
 could possibly excuse it. But but isn't this big 
 enough, Seth?" 
 
 He couldn't help her yet; he was struggling to 
 collect and revive his swamped faculties. 
 
 "I I meant it well at any rate," she continued, 
 "and and it wasn't easy to do. I couldn't have 
 done it. I should never have thought of it, but 
 for Addie. Addie's a brick of the finest kind, 
 and I mean to be a little worthier of calling my 
 self her sister." 
 
 He was himself again. 
 
 "If Addie's a brick, Etta, you're another, that's 
 clear. Two dear little gold bricks, one set with 
 turquoises and the other with with. . . .why 
 there's no stone to match your bright eyes ! I've 
 never known your real worth, stupid head that I 
 am! I'm just as proud as as Lucifer! to 
 call you both my friends. And, look here, little 
 girl, it's a fine thing to point out the right way, 
 but it's a finer thing to make your way along it. 
 Etta, I'll tell you everything. I'd bring Ethel 
 back if I could but I can't! I've tried hard to 
 make her care for me, I've asked her to become en 
 gaged to me and let me try still harder but she 
 couldn't! She doesn't care for me, except as a 
 friend. I've fully realized that. Believe me, if
 
 CAP WHICH FITTED MANY 103 
 
 there'd been the smallest chance for me, I'd have 
 known it instantly; and nobody then need have 
 asked me to seek her. A man knows pretty well 
 when a woman cares for him and when she 
 doesn't whatever she may feel called upon to say 
 or do. Ethel assured me, in an unmistakably sin 
 cere manner, that the humdrum existence of mar 
 riage would bore her to death." 
 
 Seth's earnestness left no room for further 
 doubt. So it had been all done; all borne with 
 for nothing! He rose, and held out his hand to 
 her, feeling that it was kindest to leave her at 
 once. There was a strange dignity about the 
 childish creature as she gave him her hand and 
 said in a very quiet, tired voice: 
 
 "Good-by, I'm sorry I've bothered you for 
 nothing." 
 
 He held the cold, little hand tightly and looked 
 intently at her pale, set face. 
 
 "I I don't like to think I'm utterly detestable 
 to you," he said awkwardly. "Don't cast me 
 off let me still come as before!" 
 
 "Yes," she said dully. "You can come for 
 news of Ethel." 
 
 "And don't worry about Ethel," he said quite 
 cheerfully, although his heart felt so sore on the 
 subject. "She can look after herself, you know, 
 and I don't think any one has really been to blame. 
 You understand that I cannot force my presence 
 on her, or attempt to influence her I have not
 
 IO4 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 the smallest excuse. But I don't want you to 
 think me unsympathetic." 
 
 "No. I understand," she said. "Good-by." 
 
 He kissed the little passive hand, and left her. 
 
 Addie heard him go, and pushing back the in 
 tervening door, joined her sister. In a low tone 
 Etta briefly and impassively communicated to her 
 the result of the interview. Then they returned 
 to their mother, who was sitting in sulky dignity 
 by the back-parlor window. She knew that Etta 
 was going to appeal to Seth to find Ethel, and dis 
 approving of such a childish proceeding was an 
 noyed at her inability to prevent it. She was 
 startled to hear that Seth had proposed to Ethel 
 and been refused; and, on his own frank ac 
 knowledgment, Ethel had no feeling for him save 
 that of friendship. This was all the twins told 
 her. She was not informed that, in order to 
 strengthen the appeal to Seth, Etta, urged by her 
 sister, had given herself away to that eligible 
 youth. Mrs. Leon would have indeed been furious 
 over this, for, outside her immediate family circle, 
 she was a great respecter of les convenances. Seth 
 exonerated from playing any part in the mystery 
 of Ethel's disappearance, Mrs. Leon's restless 
 thoughts were turned unwillingly on Dr. Sartin. 
 
 "Girls," she said timidly, and coloring, "you 
 often get to know things about each other quicker 
 than your elders do. Do do you think Ethel 
 cares for for Dr. Sartin?"
 
 CAP WHICH FITTED MANY 1 05 
 
 They laughed. The situation, though unac 
 knowledged, was known to be so thoroughly un 
 derstood between the three Ethel's unselfishness 
 and their mother's bitter jealousy over the Doc 
 tor that the obvious "Then why should she run 
 away?" was not uttered. 
 
 "Why, no, Mommer!" Addie cried. "I'm sure 
 she doesn't except in a daughterly way." 
 
 They would both have liked to add, "Don't let 
 that thought trouble you, you need never have 
 fretted yourself and Ethel over it," but they lacked 
 the courage, perhaps sufficient indifference to their 
 conscience-oppressed mother, to utter the con 
 temptuous words. 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Leon, relieved, "we must 
 wait and see what our letters of this morning will 
 do with Ethel. Oh, the humiliation of having to 
 send them through Mr. Law ! I have great hopes 
 in them, however. I know / never took such pains 
 with a letter before!" 
 
 "Nor I," the girls added simultaneously. 
 
 The front door bell rang, and in a few mo 
 ments Dr. Sartin's voice was heard in the hall. 
 
 "Talk of the old boy," Etta muttered, and 
 paused for the Doctor, hot and flustered, had 
 hurriedly joined them. 
 
 "I've just met Seth Lomack," he began without 
 any conventional greeting, "and he has told me 
 that Ethel has gone off for good on the sly. I
 
 IO6 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 couldn't credit it, and I've rushed in to learn the 
 truth of the matter." 
 
 "Well, you've heard it," said Mrs. Leon coldly. 
 "Addie, show Dr. Sartin Ethel's note." 
 
 "Well, well!" the Doctor murmured, consider 
 ably appalled as he finished the missive; and the 
 same thought which had stabbed poor Seth Lo- 
 mack darted through his mind namely, that 
 Ethel had run away from any renewal of his offer 
 and any further aggravation of the mistress of 
 the house. Good Heavens ! was he responsible 
 for her departure from the shelter of home? He 
 felt wretchedly uncomfortable, and compassionate, 
 too, toward his probable fellow-sinner. 
 
 "You all look terribly upset," he said, with a 
 timid glance round, "and no wonder. Especially 
 you, Mrs. Leon. Come ! We mustn't have you 
 breaking down, you know." And he laid his hand 
 sympathetically on her pulse. 
 
 But the lady, to his surprise, swiftly drew her 
 hand away. 
 
 "I'm all right," she said tartly. "Only wor 
 ried." 
 
 "You want bracing up after all this wear and 
 tear," he continued nervously. "Let me send you 
 in a nice tonic of some sort, eh?" 
 
 "No, thank you." Her tone was brusque in the 
 extreme. 
 
 The Doctor was not a little disconcerted at his
 
 CAP WHICH FITTED MANY 1 07 
 
 reception; his professional attentions had been 
 heretofore so eagerly and gratefully received. 
 
 "Well, cheer up, all of you!" he said, with an 
 effort to be easy. "We'll get Ethel back, never 
 fear. I'm going to try all I can ! Good-night." 
 
 He held out his hand to Mrs. Leon first, but 
 that lady bent her face lower over her fancy work, 
 and her "Good-night" was icy enough to make 
 him feel inclined to shiver. But he understood 
 and respected her unjust treatment of him. "You 
 made me unkind to Ethel," her whole attitude 
 said; and Dr. Sartin turned away from this little 
 specimen of the impartiality of female recrimina 
 tion with a higher opinion of his former trouble 
 some patient than he had yet entertained for her. 
 The pretty blue eyes instead of ogling him brightly 
 were full of the hot tears of shame; he saw them 
 stealing through the downcast lashes. But the 
 girls threw themselves into the uncomfortable gap 
 and shook hands with him cordially, encouraging 
 him earnestly and thankfully in any effort he 
 could make to recover their dear sister. 
 
 "They're better than I thought them," the Doc 
 tor soliloquized as he trudged home. "You can't 
 correctly estimate people until you see them in 
 trouble. Then the strong sometimes fail you, and 
 the weak nearly always surprise you. Talking of 
 the strong reminds me of Ethel. She's treated 
 us shabbily, and yet I can't feel indignant with 
 her as Seth is though I'm just as sore. I've a
 
 IO8 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 sneaking admiration for the masculine prompti 
 tude and resolution with which she has cut the 
 Gordian knot. Would she have made me a de 
 sirable wife I wonder? I don't know. She'd al 
 ways have interested have fascinated me, I'm 
 sure; but she isn't domesticated, she isn't tender, 
 or clinging those are prosaic qualities, of course, 
 far too commonplace to stir up our enthusiasms; 
 but they wear well, and there's solid comfort in 
 them. Those three poor thoughtless, self-centered 
 little birds! Poor little hurt things! I'd like to 
 stroke down their pretty, ruffled plumage, I'm so 
 sorry for them and I mean to try. Meanwhile, 
 Miss Ethel, I'll give you a dressing-down with 
 my pen." 
 
 Addie again joined Etta in her room when they 
 went up-stairs. She put her arm round the 
 sobered, listless little maid. 
 
 "I'm sorry, Sis," she said, with a hug, "that you 
 went through it all for nothing. I wish I had let 
 things alone. But it seemed the most likely solu 
 tion of the riddle, the most hopeful thing to do, 
 now didn't it?" 
 
 "Oh, yes! it certainly did; and it has as cer 
 tainly failed." 
 
 "Well, you'll forgive me, won't you?" 
 
 "Of course, you goose!" 
 
 Etta kissed her sister, pushed her away, and 
 threw herself gloomily into a chair. 
 
 "Ettie, what is bothering you? Don't think
 
 CAP WHICH FITTED MANY 109 
 
 anything more of the interview to-night every 
 body will forget it, so it's not worth while. 
 You've nothing to be ashamed of anyway. I hate 
 to see you and Mommer so miserable. You 
 mustn't think I've forgotten that I've added 
 my quota to the general stream know I've 
 helped to drive Ethel away. You don't know 
 how horrid I've been to her at times. We've got 
 to comfort each other." 
 
 "Oh, I don't mind about the interview," Etta 
 said impatiently, "but Seth said an awful thing 
 to-night." 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 "He said a man always knew whether a woman 
 cared for him or not, whatever she might feel 
 called upon to say or do !" 
 
 "Well?" said Addie, with a strangled smile. 
 
 "Well," returned Etta, rising, dragging off her 
 ornaments and flinging them down roughly on the 
 bureau, "I think a man is the meanest thing in 
 creation, that's all!"
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 WHAT TIME DID 
 
 The letters written to Ethel were duly 
 answered; she smiled over the different tying of 
 the strings, and dexterously soothed each restless 
 conscience in turn. She reported herself to each 
 as well, happy, and comfortable; and as busily 
 arranging to adopt a profession, of which she 
 would probably tell them more later. That was 
 all. She resolutely kept the secret of her where 
 abouts and special interests, and the disappoint 
 ment she consequently occasioned in five breasts 
 was keen. The letters had been sent under cover 
 to Mr. Law and reposted by him in Brooklyn. It 
 must not be supposed, however, that the step 
 mother and sisters left Mr. Law in peace because 
 of their complete defeat at their first interview 
 with him on the subject. After receipt of Ethel's 
 first unsatisfactory letter, they forced several more 
 interviews upon him before they finally gave up 
 the attempt to conquer him as absolutely hopeless. 
 Dr. Sartin and Seth also had divers skirmishes 
 with the man of law and iron. He received them 
 the first time patiently; the second time shortly; 
 and the third time he asked the Doctor sarcasti 
 cally whether he had abandoned medicine for de-
 
 WHAT TIME DID III 
 
 tective work, and recommended him, if he had, to 
 return to his first love as the latter was clearly not 
 his metier; and he threatened to put a mansard 
 roof on Seth's head if he presumed to bother him 
 any more about the matter. So they, too, retired 
 reluctantly from the field. To inquiring friends, 
 Mrs. Leon helplessly stated the facts of Ethel's 
 withdrawal as she (Ethel) had put them, and was 
 commiserated with on having such an unruly 
 daughter. 
 
 "But she'll come back after a while, don't you 
 fret," they would add consolingly. 
 
 "I don't know," Mrs. Leon would return. 
 "She was always queer obstinate." 
 
 "Well, at any rate, you've nothing to reproach 
 yourself with," would be the next remark. And 
 here Mrs. Leon's self-possession would desert her 
 suddenly, and she would relapse into a frightened 
 silence ; and the friends were left to make the best 
 they could of the affair, which, being nothing, did 
 not sustain their interest. 
 
 Meanwhile, Ethel was giving Henry Law her 
 fullest confidence, and her regular and graphic 
 letters afforded him the keenest satisfaction. 
 First: she was leisurely looking about her and 
 acquiring every little information as to the modus 
 operandi of introducing herself to the hospital 
 with the best effect, and Mrs. Rice's establishment 
 fully deserved the character given it there was 
 no falling off; she was supremely comfy, happy,
 
 112 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 and healthful. Then she had joined the Protes 
 tant Episcopal Church of her district, and was 
 cultivating the pastor as a "character" from 
 him was a necessary credential. Then she had 
 passed the necessary physical examination with 
 honours, and had entered on her three months' 
 probation at the Charity Hospital. And then 
 hurrah! her probation was over with complete 
 success, and she had commenced her two years' 
 training as a nurse. 
 
 And while this was being accomplished, Time 
 was healing all chafened surfaces and rounding off 
 all rough and broken edges with his slow but un 
 failing tools leisurely but systematically dropping 
 his wonderful oil on the troubled waters until they 
 were calmed into a philosophic quiescence. Dr. 
 Sartin and Seth continued to call at the red-brick 
 house in Pacific Street, and were noted frequently 
 by the neighbors under the quaint black portico 
 which sheltered the top of the high stoop and 
 shadowed the massive double doors of carved 
 mahogany; and the familiar sight called forth at 
 last suggestive smiles and insinuating whispers. 
 They came for news of Ethel of course; and they 
 continued to come for news of Ethel long after 
 that had ceased to be their primary object. For 
 the Doctor found himself subtly dismissed as 
 medical attendant, and treated altogether so cav 
 alierly that he became unexpectedly interested, 
 under this steady snubbing, in the study of a
 
 WHAT TIME DID 113 
 
 woman's conscience and resolution as presented by 
 his quondam sophistical and weak patient, Mrs. 
 Leon. Steeled to all rebuffs, he exercised his priv 
 ilege as an old friend, and stormed her hospitality 
 with unabatable ardor. And Seth Seth grad 
 ually but only too surely fell in love with the little 
 stranger Etta had introduced to him at that un 
 forgettable interview, and his courtship was a 
 stormy one. Etta was stoically friendly while he 
 kept his new feeling for her well-cloaked by the 
 old one; but at the faintest bursting through of 
 that new and rapidly swelling tenderness the girl's 
 pride would rise fiercely, vindictively armed; and 
 Seth could only sigh and retire. Nevertheless, 
 these augmenting battles must have possessed a 
 strange and deep fascination for Seth, for he 
 always returned to the fray with undiminished per- 
 serverance and courage. He knew that Etta loved 
 him ; but she had humbled her pride to him and so 
 increased its natural sensitiveness a thousandfold, 
 and that it would ever allow her to acknowledge 
 her love and permit him to touch what was inevi 
 tably his was extremely doubtful. The situation 
 was most provoking; but it was piquant, too, and 
 very stimulating. 
 
 Toward the close of Ethel's training, Addie's 
 faithful sweetheart, Dickie Leigh, had a plump 
 piece of good luck tossed into his hands by that 
 most capricious of femininities Dame Fortune.
 
 114 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 The firm which employed him, a large drygoods 
 house, suddenly offered him the management of 
 their branch house in Japan, vacant through an 
 untimely death, and, as well, a handsome increase 
 of salary. This well-earned mark of apprecia 
 tion placed a long-coveted treasure at last honor 
 ably within Dickie's grasp, and he demanded 
 Addie of Mrs. Leon without delay. As his pros 
 pects were very bright, and he was an all-round 
 deserving young man, and, moreover, as Addie's 
 heart was certainly his, Mrs. Leon graciously con 
 sented. The wedding was hurried on, for Dick 
 had to depart as soon as possible, and he flatly re 
 fused to go without Addie. Ethel was written to, 
 of course, and entreated to return for the cere 
 mony; but in a most loving letter she declared, 
 much as she longed to, she could not do so. This 
 was a big piece of self-sacrifice on Ethel's part, 
 yet it failed to be appreciated, ^as many big things 
 do; and a coolness on their side toward the ap 
 parently unfeeling and refractory Ethel was born. 
 Mrs. Leon and her daughters were bitterly hurt. 
 The truth was that Ethel mistrusted her strength 
 to resist the deserted mother and sisters when the 
 time for parting came, and she did not want to 
 give up the career which now lay with so much 
 promise before her, nor to be a possibly disturbing 
 element in the course of Dr. Sartin's and Seth's 
 respective courtships. She had not given Henry 
 Law her confidence respecting these two men,
 
 WHAT TIME DID 115 
 
 nevertheless, he was quite shrewd enough to guess 
 the truth, and he was always anxious to send her 
 any news which his knowledge of her told him 
 would be gratifying. 
 
 So he had kept her informed of the gradual 
 tendency and growth of her rejected suitors' affec 
 tions, and she was more resolved than ever to keep 
 dark until these now submissive souls had floated 
 into their natural harbors; a cross-current, such 
 as her presence would bring, might turn them from 
 their homeward course and send them adrift again. 
 Ethel was not a vain woman, but, on the other 
 hand, she was far too sensible to ignore facts; she 
 knew her personality possessed a powerful fascina 
 tion over these two men; away from her, this 
 feeling naturally faded into torpidity with them; 
 but, in her presence, it might be roused again and 
 sway them. So Ethel put from her the yearning 
 to see step-mother and sisters again, and, above 
 all, the passionate desire to take Addie in her arms 
 and wish her God-speed on the new untried, and 
 doubtful road she had elected to follow, with no 
 better guide than an impulsive, romantic baby- 
 heart fired by a young man's easily excited and 
 reckless tenderness. Addie was Dickie's ideal 
 woman now when he was twenty-four, Ethel 
 prayed that she might still be so when he was 
 thirty-four, or, failing that, the next best thing 
 that Dickie's principles and kindness of heart 
 might be depended upon. Thus she turned to her
 
 1 1 6 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 grateful patients for comfort, and a very pretty 
 little wedding in which she was deeply interested 
 took place without her. The lovely girl-bride 
 sobbed over the parting with mother and sister, but 
 she sailed away with a cheery confidence in her 
 new future, a confidence Dickie proved himself de 
 serving of. Dr. Sartin and Seth did their best to 
 cheer up the bereaved mother and sister, and some 
 success attended their efforts at last; a faint show 
 of gratitude was accorded them, and they made 
 the most of it. 
 
 "I'll be a detestable old bachelor, and you'll be 
 a ridiculous-looking old maid," Seth said to Etta 
 one evening as he sat beside her while she trilled 
 coon-congs at the piano, and Dr. Sartin and Mrs. 
 Leon pow-wowed in the back-parlor. "We're not 
 cut out for the roles, and it's a sin a crime for 
 you to force them upon us." 
 
 "Don't be an idiot, Seth!" flashed out Etta, 
 abandoning her song but keeping up the soft, run 
 ning accompaniment. "And rude besides!" 
 
 "I'm not rude!" he protested. "I only mean 
 that with your thorough beauty and winsomeness 
 you'll never be able to look the part of a staid, 
 philanthropic busy-body a preaching, interfering, 
 self-satisfied, unclaimed blessing. No, not if you 
 live to be a hundred !" 
 
 "Well, don't distress yourself, I haven't the 
 slightest intention of becoming an old maid," she 
 returned loftily. "I shall make a suitable match
 
 WHAT TIME DID 1 1 7 
 
 when I'm ready. But there's no hurry: I'm not 
 fading yet." 
 
 "It's a bit disappointing," he murmured tim 
 idly, "still I suppose I ought to be grateful for 
 small mercies. Yes, I am grateful: I'll thank 
 fully wait your time." 
 
 Etta struck a sharp chord upon the piano, and 
 turned upon him a pair of blazing eyes. 
 
 "Don't frizzle me!" he pleaded feebly. 
 
 "I wish I could!" she retorted. "When will 
 you understand, Seth Lomack, that you don't enter 
 into my scheme of life at all? I said a suitable 
 match, you mountebank!" 
 
 "But what's to become of me?" 
 
 "Well, you may find a girl foolish enough to 
 marry you, you know. There are so many fools 
 in the world; still," with a scornful curl of her 
 pretty lip, "you mustn't forget that there are 
 degrees of folly. You may fail to find one suffi 
 ciently large of mouth to swallow you." And she 
 returned to her music and sang away merrily. 
 
 "You've talked nonsense, Etta," Seth pursued 
 gravely, "and we both know it. You'll never be 
 ready to make a match unless it is with me. As 
 for me, of course, I could marry heaps of splen- 
 diriferous girls, but " 
 
 "But," amended Etta, stopping short in her 
 song, but still tinkling away at the keys, "you don't 
 happen to live in a country where it is allowable. 
 What a pity ! A few wives, smarting under their
 
 1 1 8 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 first sense of disillusionment, would soon make an 
 end of you. And I, for one, should be deeply 
 obliged to them." 
 
 "No, you wouldn't. But, there! you don't 
 mean what you say. What you really mean is 
 that you would never smile again." 
 
 "I'd build bonfires for joy." 
 
 "Etta! Won't you be reasonable, dear?" 
 
 "Dear! How dare you be so familiar! I'll 
 never be what you call reasonable never, never, 
 Seth Lomack!" 
 
 "I can't understand your pleasure in hurting me 
 so, Etta." 
 
 "No, I suppose not." 
 
 "And and aren't you aren't you hurting 
 yourself * * * * a little * * * * 
 too? Come! Just say 'Yes,' Etta, and be done 
 with it." 
 
 Etta jumped up, and closed the piano with a 
 sharp bang. 
 
 "Look here," she said furiously to Seth, "I've 
 had enough of you !" And she promptly joined 
 the others. 
 
 A game of whist was proposed, but Seth refused 
 to take a hand. Sore and angry, he muttered an 
 excuse, and took his leave. Etta bore his de 
 parture with unruffled serenity, perhaps, because 
 she knew she would see him again and before long ; 
 she good-naturedly offered to take dummy for her 
 partner, and the game of whist proceeded.
 
 WHAT TIME DID 
 
 Dr. Sartin stayed late. Mrs. Leon had been 
 wonderfully gentle and gracious to him all the eve 
 ning, and with that heretofore lacking touch of 
 reserve which gave value to her favors and zest to 
 his appreciation. He was loth to leave the cosy 
 parlor, with its daintily pretty feminine touches, 
 and the society of these two attractive tender gen 
 tlewomen for his grim widower's home and the 
 ministrations of his trustworthy and capable old 
 housekeeper, who was harsh of face and hands and 
 stern of speech. Perhaps he was more sensitive 
 than usual to the contrast, because he was feeling 
 decidedly unwell. At length, after trumping his 
 partner's best suit and playing into dummy's hand, 
 and other high misdemeanors of a like description, 
 he was obliged to own the state of affairs apolo 
 getically, and prepare to depart. 
 
 "No," said Mrs. Leon decisively, "you don't go 
 until I've made you a cup of coffee worth drink 
 ing. It will warm you up for the trip home the 
 weather's raw to-night. I thought you didn't look 
 well; you should have spoken before." And the 
 servants having gone to bed, Mrs. Leon, ignoring 
 the Doctor's feeble protests, bustled away to pre 
 pare the comforting beverage with her own fair 
 hands. 
 
 "Sit here, Doc," Etta said sympathetically, ris 
 ing and waving him into the biggest arm-chair, 
 which she piled well with downy cushions. "Sit 
 here, and make yourself cosy."
 
 I2O A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 Dr. Sartin complied ; and he held the little girl's 
 hand as she stood beside him, and patted it gently. 
 
 "Well, what's the latest news from Ad, Et- 
 tie?" 
 
 "Oh, as bright as ever! They're worthy of 
 each other, Ad and Dick. Only think, Doc, Ad- 
 die's been married nearly a year already!" 
 
 "Wonderful, isn't it?" he returned affection 
 ately. "And we miss her as much as ever, eh?" 
 "Yes, of course. You see, she took half of me 
 away with her: I'm bound to miss that." 
 
 "Well, we must find a substitute," the Doctor 
 pursued whimsically. "I think we must follow a 
 good example and get married ourselves. Now 
 what do you say to that? Plenty of nice people 
 going begging." 
 
 Etta drew her hand away. "I'd rather not," 
 she said pointedly as she turned away and seated 
 herself. 
 
 And the Doctor laughed, and changed the sub 
 ject. 
 
 That cup of coffee finished the Doctor. Mrs. 
 Leon had proved to him that, under innumerable 
 foibles, she possessed a conscience and a kind little 
 heart of her own, and now that she could make 
 the best cup of coffee he had ever tasted. The 
 Doctor was passionately fond of coffee, and as he 
 drained the cup he took a sudden resolution : he 
 would marry Mrs. Leon after all. He had a fair 
 share of that pretty well universal masculine con-
 
 WHAT TIME DID 121 
 
 fidence respecting women namely, that their 
 liking can always be cultivated into love; and so 
 no doubt as to the result of his gracious decision 
 to cultivate this little specimen bf femininity 
 troubled the Doctor's sturdy mind. Men are 
 sometimes right. 
 
 But the Doctor's intentions had to be shelved 
 for a few weeks, during which he was ill unto 
 death. The most assidious inquiries and the most 
 toothsome delicacies came from 1429 Pacific 
 Street; and it was to this house that the Doctor 
 paid his first call when he was able to crawl about 
 again. His reception was invigoratingly cordial. 
 
 "But ought you to have ventured out so soon?" 
 Mrs. Leon inquired anxiously of the pale shadow 
 of her former ruddy and robust friend. 
 
 "Well, I don't know. The fact is, I was impa 
 tient to see you and Etta and tell you a big piece 
 of news." 
 
 "Yes," they said with interest. 
 
 "I'm going to retire from my profession, and 
 return to the auld country." 
 
 There was a strained silence. Then Etta, who 
 sat close beside him, laid her hand affectionately 
 on the Doctor's arm. 
 
 "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said impulsively. 
 
 The Doctor leaned over and touched her temple 
 with his lips. 
 
 "Sorry that the old man can and is going to 
 give himself a rest, sweetheart?" he asked.
 
 122 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "No. Sorry to lose you." 
 
 "Well, we'll talk about that later." 
 
 "But but what will all your enthusiastic pa 
 tients do for you?" Mrs. Leon at length mur 
 mured. "It's it's not treating them as they de 
 serve, you know. Now is it?" 
 
 "Oh, they'll soon forget me and find some one 
 they like better it's the way of the world." 
 
 "Come, Doctor!" Mrs. Leon continued plead 
 ingly. "You're taking this illness of yours too 
 seriously: you feel very shaky now, but you'll 
 soon be your old self again. No, take a good 
 long holiday a trip to the 'auld counthry,' if you 
 like but come back to us." 
 
 "You don't quite understand yet," returned the 
 Doctor. "It isn't my illness that's brought me to 
 this decision, but another combination of circum 
 stances." 
 
 "Oh!" they cried, and waited anxiously. 
 
 "You know," the Doctor went on, "my family's 
 rather an old one, and there's a title in it. Well, 
 to cut a long story short, I've come into the title 
 and estate, and must go and look after the latter. 
 
 They stared at him and gasped. 
 
 "Why why did you never tell us about this?" 
 Mrs. Leon stammered. "Such old friends, too I 
 It was too bad of you!" 
 
 "Well, I stood the slimest imaginable chance of 
 ever succeeding it never entered into my calcula-
 
 WHAT TIME DID 123 
 
 tions at all and I hate the snobbishness of fam 
 ily bragging." 
 
 "It comes like a dream," Etta murmured; 
 "like a scene from a book, or play. It sounds too 
 deliciously romantic for prosaic life." 
 
 "Well, aren't you going to congratulate me?" 
 the Doctor asked wistfully. 
 
 Etta stood up and held out both her hands. 
 
 "With all my heart, Lord?" 
 
 "Kilburne," the Doctor amended with a 
 chuckle. "Funny, isn't it?" 
 
 He rose to take the little hands and put them to 
 his lips. The lady of the house also got up, and 
 silently offered him her hand. He shook it 
 warmly. 
 
 "And now," cried Etta, when they were all 
 seated again, "tell us the whole history!" Which 
 the Doctor did. 
 
 "When do you go?" asked Mrs. Leon 
 slowly. 
 
 "As soon as I can get ready but that will take 
 some time. Perhaps two months. 
 
 "Well, the gain is decidedly yours; the loss, 
 solely ours so we mustn't regret it, must we, 
 Ettie? It would be too abominably selfish." 
 
 Mrs. Leon still spoke slowly, but she had sum 
 moned up a smile. 
 
 Alone with her daughter that same evening, 
 she said suddenly: 
 
 "Etta, Ethel might have been a countess, in-
 
 124 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 stead of a instead of a / don't know what! 
 I wish she'd hurry up and tell us: she keeps put 
 ting it off most tantalizingly." 
 
 "Yes, so do I wish she'd tell us," responded 
 Eltta. "But, as to her being a countess, Doc will 
 look higher than an American girl now: he'll 
 marry into the nobility, if he marries at all." 
 
 "A man can't look higher than a nice American 
 girl," retorted Mrs. Leon indignantly. 
 
 "Loyal old Mummie," said Etta with a hug. 
 
 Mrs. Leon sighed heavily. 
 
 "How blue you look, Mommer! Come, cheer 
 up!" 
 
 "Well, Etta, I can't help feeling rather dismal. 
 I've lost Ethel and Addie; and, now, here's our 
 old, old friend Dr. Sartin, passing clean out of 
 our lives." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose he is. Three thousand miles is 
 a big distance, and correspondence isn't satisfac 
 tory besides, a man never keeps it up. Of 
 course, he'll enter on quite a different style of life, 
 and it will absorb him ; and we're bound, it seems 
 to me, to grow out of sympathy with each other. 
 Never mind, we must be satisfied that he is happy. 
 He deserves his good luck." 
 
 "He seems cheerful enough over it already, 
 doesn't he, Etta?" 
 
 "Yes, Mummie. I've felt a wee bit hurt over 
 that myself. Not a word of regret at leaving old 
 friends."
 
 WHAT TIME DID 125 
 
 "Men are selfish things," Mrs. Leon announced. 
 "And they forget so easily." 
 
 "Yes," was the quick answer, "they're selfish 
 and mean, and teasing. But you've still got me, 
 Mummie, and always will have, you know." 
 
 Mrs. Leon smiled proudly on the pretty little 
 creature. 
 
 "I shan't have you long," she said. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you will!" 
 
 "Your cake's waiting for you, pigeon." 
 
 Etta drooped her head low. 
 
 "But behind closed doors," she whispered; 
 "and in all my composition, there's not a key bold 
 and strong enough to open it." 
 
 "Come here, Etta!" 
 
 Etta came, and knelt down by her mother's 
 chair. Mrs. Leon played with the dusky hair, and 
 pinched the soft face. Then she kissed it. 
 
 "Don't worry, sweetheart!" she said tenderly. 
 "We'll weld that key yet"
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 
 
 It was Etta's custom to spend a few days every 
 month with an old school-chum, the girls visiting 
 each other's houses alternately; and, on her re 
 turn from one of these sojourns, about a month 
 after Dr. Sartln's confidences, Etta thought she 
 noticed a change in her mother. She welcomed 
 her daughter home as lovingly as .usual, but she 
 was unusually serious and quiet, and there was a 
 deferential air of timidity and constraint about 
 her, very puzzling to Etta. Mrs. Leon did not 
 wait, however, to be questioned. 
 
 "When you have taken off your things," she 
 said, after she had heard all about the visit, 
 "come into my room, Etta. I've something to tell 
 you." 
 
 "What! More surprises in store? I thought 
 there was something in the wind, Mommer, you 
 look so gravely important." 
 
 "Yes. It's a very big surprise," Mrs. Leon re 
 turned, with a nervous laugh, "and I'm as im 
 patient to tell it as the Doctor was to tell his 
 so hurry up." 
 
 "All right. I'll be with you in a minute." 
 
 "Well," said Etta ten minutes later, " 'out with 
 it'! as Sam Weller says."
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 127 
 
 "Etta, Dr. Sartin " 
 
 "Lord Kilburne," corrected Etta, with mock 
 solemnity. 
 
 "Yes, Lord Kilburne has asked me to marry 
 him!" 
 
 Etta collapsed in her chair. 
 
 "Why, I never thought he cared for you in 
 that way!" she cried bluntly and affrightedly. "I 
 never dreamed he would, under any circumstances, 
 ask you to be his wife, much less these !" 
 
 "Nor did I," returned Mrs. Leon, with rare 
 meekness. "But he has." 
 
 "And you " Etta faltered, beginning to 
 tremble violently. 
 
 "And I accepted him, of course. I've I've 
 always liked him, and and it's a fine thing to be 
 a countess, you know. A great honor." 
 
 "Oh, mother, say it isn't true !" 
 
 "Now, Ettie darling, you must take this reason 
 ably. You're thinking of your good father, and 
 so am I." Here Mrs. Leon put her handkerchief 
 to her eyes. "You don't like to think of anybody 
 in his place, and I feel sensitive about it, too. But 
 everything soon settles down comfortably to a 
 natural order of things, and it's rank ingratitude 
 to keep the door closed when Fortune is knocking. 
 I'm sure your dear father himself would have us 
 to take advantage of this; he hadn't a selfish 
 bone in his body. I've felt so nervous as to how
 
 128 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 you would like this news, Etta. Don't make me 
 unhappy, dear!" 
 
 Etta paid no attention to this appeal; she had 
 flushed a guilty crimson at the mention of her 
 father, and it was this part of Mrs. Leon's speech 
 that she took up. 
 
 "I I hadn't thought of dear old Pop yet," 
 she stammered, as if talking to herself. "Yes, it 
 adds tremendously to the awfulness of it all. And 
 some other consideration will turn up later, when 
 we've had a little more time to think in, and pile 
 on the agony." 
 
 Mrs. Leon burst into tears, and there was a 
 pause in the conversation. 
 
 "Don't cry, Mummie!" Etta at last urged re 
 pentantly. "I'm I'm not going to bother you. 
 But. . . .are you going to be married. . . .soon?" 
 
 "Yes, very soon, pet," sobbed Mrs. Leon. "We 
 shall be married very, very quietly, as George 
 wishes it only ourselves." 
 
 "And then you'll go with him to Ireland next 
 month?" 
 
 "Yes," continued the future bride, drying her 
 tears and brightening. "We'll go, darling. Etta ! 
 I mean you to have the most glorious time in Eu 
 rope that ever an American girl had yet!" 
 
 "Mother!" 
 
 "Yes, I do. My head is brimful of plans for 
 you, and I shall so enjoy carrying them out. It's 
 a pity Addie married so soon, or I might have had
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 129 
 
 both my daughters Ladies, or Countesses, or 
 Duchesses, or Princesses. I tell you, with your 
 beauty and charms, and the prestige of George's 
 wealth and name, we shall be welcome everywhere, 
 and may aspire to anything! I am so glad you 
 and Seth haven't come to an understanding now. 
 I could almost wish Addie unmarried but she's 
 so happy!" 
 
 "Oh, mother!" 
 
 "And Ethel? Do you think Ethel will come 
 back to us now and go abroad with us, Etta?" 
 
 "No, I'm sure she won't!" snapped Etta. 
 "She's too much sense." 
 
 "Well, I'm afraid not, too but she shall have 
 the chance. It's a glorious one, I think, for any 
 girl." 
 
 "Mother!" 
 
 "Bless the child! Can't you say something else. 
 But there ! You're bewildered, and no wonder. I 
 am myself. Why, I declare you're as white as a 
 ghost and shivering like a leaf!" 
 
 "Well, it it isn't every day one is greeted with 
 such news," said Etta, making a desperate effort 
 to rally her forces. 
 
 "No, indeed! Think of the receptions, and 
 balls, and concerts we shall enjoy, Etta ! Think 
 of the distinguished people we shall mix with and 
 entertain! Won't it be interesting?" 
 
 "Ah!"
 
 130 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "Think of the gowns and jewels we shall have! 
 Yours shall be of the finest, my pretty; I've com 
 menced on some of them already. And we'll show 
 those dowdy automatic English women how to put 
 them on with effect and carry everything before 
 you." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 "We'll be presented at Court both in Dublin 
 and London, Etta." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "In fact, we're going to have the very best of 
 good times, little girl." 
 
 "Yes ah, yes!" 
 
 "There ! I hear George's voice in the hall. 
 Run down and greet him affectionately, chicken; 
 he's as anxious as I am that you should be pleased. 
 I'll be down in ten minutes or so. Give me a kiss 
 before you go and wish me joy. There ! What 
 cold little lips! Run away!" 
 
 "Poor old Doc!" thought Etta, as she walked 
 downstairs. "He's going to have a lively time. 
 I wonder if he knows it?" 
 
 She joined the Doctor in the parlor with the 
 calmness of sheer despair. Walking up to him, 
 she raised her face to his. 
 
 "Mommer's just told me," she said stiffly. "I 
 hope you'll be happy, and make her so." 
 
 "I have no doubts myself," he said cheerily, as 
 he kissed her. "And can't we make the little 
 daughter happy too?"
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 131 
 
 "You've begun well, I must say!" retorted Etta, 
 drawing away from his encircling arm. "You 
 half killed me!" 
 
 "How, sweetheart?" 
 
 "I I love America," she faltered evasively. 
 "It's the finest country in the world. You're tak 
 ing me away from it." 
 
 "You've not seen the other countries, Etta; 
 each has its own peculiar charms. It's a fine thing 
 to be able to discriminate amongst them, and to do 
 that one must travel. Many would give much to 
 have the chance." 
 
 "Yes," she assented dully. 
 
 "Your mother and I have been talking a lot 
 about you while you have been away," the Doctor 
 continued, "and we mean you to see what we can 
 show you of the world and life. You shan't have 
 time to pine, Etta." 
 
 "You're awfully good. Shall you enjoy that, 
 Doc ? I beg your pardon ; I don't know what to 
 call you." 
 
 "Please stick to 'Doc.' Shall I enjoy it, Etta? 
 Ah, well ! I'll enjoy seeing your mother and you 
 enjoy it, at any rate. Here she comes! We're 
 all right, you see, mother as right as a trivet!" 
 
 "What a happy little mother she looked 
 until Seth joined the trio. Then her gay blue eyes 
 sought Etta's face with anxious inquiry, and her 
 bright countenance grew momentarily uneasy over 
 what they read there. For Etta had blanched and
 
 132 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 grown rigid under Seth's warm greeting; but, in 
 an instant, and with a mighty effort, the girl mas 
 tered and cloaked her feelings. Before any one 
 could remark on her emotion, almost before any 
 one could notice it, her natural color was again 
 mantling her cheeks, her lips were smiling, and 
 she was chatting vivaciously. Mrs. Leon, who 
 was certainly not of an analytical turn of mind, 
 was at once relieved and reassured. 
 
 "It must have been some trick of the lights," 
 she thought, "which made her look at first so 
 deathlike. They can make you look funny at 
 times !" 
 
 "Come and play to me, Etta," Seth soon 
 pleaded, anxious to have her to himself in the 
 other room. "I haven't had any music since you 
 went away." 
 
 Etta got up, humming a tune ; and as she passed 
 her mother the latter leaned forward and whis 
 pered to her, "Tell him at once and be done with 
 it." 
 
 So instead of going to the piano, Etta walked 
 to one of the front windows, and sat down in a 
 corner, where the drooping portiere screened her 
 from the other pair, and where her conversation 
 need not be overheard unless she wished it. As 
 she sat down she felt that her nerve was again de 
 serting her; but a bold inspiration finding birth 
 within her almost simultaneously, seized it and 
 held it in check.
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 133 
 
 Seth followed her wonderingly. 
 
 "I asked for some music, Etta?" 
 
 "I know you did, impatient boy! You shall 
 have it presently. Sit down here first,' and pre 
 pare to be astounded." 
 
 Seth needed no second invitation, for Etta was 
 seated on a tiny sofa just large enough to hold 
 two and not an inch to spare, and had oh, rare 
 and sweet condescension ! invited him to take his 
 place beside her. He put his arm lovingly round 
 the back of the sofa on Etta's side, and his fingers 
 curled round the bend. Really! It was almost 
 like hugging Etta. 
 
 "Well?" he asked happily. 
 
 "Well," she returned, without preamble, "Lord 
 Kilburne has asked Mommer to marry him, and 
 she has accepted him!" 
 
 "Why, I never thought he'd do that!" Seth 
 blurted, considerably stunned by the bald an 
 nouncement. 
 
 "Nor did I. Nor did Mommer. But it's an 
 accomplished fact." 
 
 "Upon my word!" 
 
 "Yes, it's rather startling, isn't it? I only heard 
 it myself an hour or so ago, and I haven't fully 
 recovered from the shock yet!" 
 
 "But, Etta ! Lord Kilburne is going to live 
 in Ireland!" 
 
 . "Naturally. Where his estates are. They are 
 to be married very shortly, and very quietly; and
 
 134 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 then we're all going to Ireland next month to 
 live!" 
 
 "We are ?" he gasped. 
 
 "Yes, we are and to live. That's all." 
 
 She felt inclined to add, "Steady" for the sofa 
 shook, and so did she, with the rough start he 
 gave. 
 
 "Oh, so that's all, is it?" he repeated dazedly, 
 but he looked at her searchingly. 
 
 "Yes, that's all. I wish you wouldn't stare at 
 me so, Seth, or that your face was less doughy- 
 looking! It's not cheering! I'm waiting for your 
 congratulations." 
 
 "Waiting for my congratulations!" 
 
 "Yes. What a parrot you are! waiting for 
 your congratulations, of course!" 
 
 A recklessly gay and mischievous sprite seemed 
 to have taken possession of Etta, and, under its 
 prompting, her eyes twinkled, her color rose ever 
 higher, her lips smiled more and more merrily, 
 and her voice was lightly mocking. Seth studied 
 her in deeply pained amazement. 
 
 "I I don't see exactly what I am to congratu 
 late you upon," he stammered confusedly. "I 
 I didn't think you'd be glad to go !" 
 
 "Why, you stupid boy, don't you see that it's a 
 fine thing to be a countess, a great honor? and 
 that the next best thing is to have one's mother a 
 peeress and be under the glamour of her coronet?"
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 135 
 
 "Ah, yes! To be sure!" He spoke like one 
 in a dream. 
 
 "So your congratulations are due to the three 
 of us, Seth to the happy bridegroom, to the 
 proud bride, and to the lucky daughter. I'm wait 
 ing for mine, and then I'll lead you back into the 
 other room and you can do your duty to the happy 
 pair." 
 
 Seth ceased to stare at her: he rested his el 
 bows on his knees and let his head drop into his 
 hands, and not a word said he. What had hap 
 pened to Etta? What was the meaning of all 
 this? What had become of his little sweetheart? 
 The girl beside him was certainly the old Etta, of 
 whom he was impatient. She had not really died 
 then in giving birth to that serious and tender 
 little stranger who had so completely captivated 
 him ? No ! She had only allowed herself to be 
 eclipsed temporarily by that new pure star, and 
 now she was returning the compliment with a 
 vengeance. 
 
 "Well, Seth? Come! Where's your imagina 
 tion? Think of the distinguished company, the 
 dresses and jewels we shall enjoy! Think of the 
 presentations at court, the magnificent balls, con 
 certs, and receptions! Can't you picture it at all? 
 I can, I assure you most vividly! And so I am 
 impatient to be congratulated. Wake up!" She 
 tapped him smartly on the shoulder.
 
 136 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 He raised his head and looked at her wearily. 
 His aspect was singularly haggard. 
 
 "Do these things, even in imagination, com 
 pletely satisfy your soul, Etta?" 
 
 "Preacher!" she cried jeeringly. 
 
 "Do they, Etta?" 
 
 "Well, what do you think?" she asked, with a 
 little moue. 
 
 -"I think it looks like it." 
 
 "Does it? Good then!" 
 
 "And now I do congratulate you, Etta. For a 
 soul that can be satisfied materially is indeed a pos 
 session to be coveted." 
 
 "I think so, too, Seth." 
 
 "There'll be no heartaches in store for you, 
 Etta, and they are not pleasant things to have." 
 
 "Charmed then to know that I shall be exempt." 
 
 There was a pause. The girl grew restless and 
 frightened, and relieved the tumult within her by 
 another burst of words. 
 
 "Seth! Shan't I look well in a white satin gown 
 tumbling off my shoulders and trailing for yards 
 behind me and with three perpendicular feathers 
 and a streaming veil for a crown, and strings of 
 pearls swinging all around me, and glittering stars 
 and crescents and birds and things dabbled all over 
 me? Now, shan't I?" 
 
 "Well, tastes differ," he returned absently. 
 "It sounds to me like the picture of a silly, half- 
 dressed, bead-bedecked savage."
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 137 
 
 "Oh! does it? Well, you never had any taste, 
 Seth." 
 
 "No, I suppose not. Well I may as well con 
 gratulate the others now and depart." 
 
 "Depart! Why, you've only just come !" She 
 was flurried and half put out her hand to hold 
 him. She drew it back instantly, however, and 
 repeated more firmly, "Nonsense! You've only 
 just come." 
 
 "True! But, now I know what's going to 
 happen, I won't intrude any longer, nor again. 
 You must have lots of preparations to make, and 
 you haven't so much time that you can afford to 
 chat it away with friends who won't come into 
 your aristocratic future at all, and whom you need 
 not, therefore, be bothered with. Those tumble- 
 to-pieces gowns will take a lot of thinking out and 
 making." 
 
 His tone was bitterly final, and he rose as he 
 ceased speaking. 
 
 Etta laughed, a little too wildly, as she sprang 
 up beside him. 
 
 "Why, I shan't have those gowns made here, 
 you simpleton !" There she cried. "The very 
 idea ! Oh, Seth, you'll kill me !" There was real 
 agony in her voice, but he didn't notice it. 
 
 "Won't you?" he returned stupidly. "Well, 
 at any rate, you'll have lots of other things to do. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 "Oh, say good-bye when youVe finished with
 
 138 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 the others," she said hurriedly. "Come back to 
 me here." 
 
 He turned away at once and went into the other 
 room, and Etta remained standing where he had 
 left her. The critical moment was fast approach 
 ing, and her self-possession was weakening pro 
 portionately. She heard, as in a far distance, the 
 murmer of Seth's congratulations and the voices 
 of her mother and Lord Kilburne in reply. She 
 heard faintly their hearty "good-nights." Her 
 hot cheeks were rapidly cooling, paling: she 
 rubbed them viciously, but they seemed to grow 
 steadily colder like her throbbing heart. She gave 
 herself a petulant shake in order to drive away a 
 growing dizziness and a blurredness of vision. 
 
 Out of the subdued light of the front parlor a 
 dark shadow loomed, and stood before her: she 
 rubbed her eyes and drew a long breath. Seth 
 had come back to say good-bye; and Seth was 
 studying her critically, struck by her unusual ap 
 pearance. 
 
 "What are you staring at?" she asked irritably. 
 "It's such a rude trick of yours!" 
 
 "I beg your pardon. I was only wondering 
 whether anything was the matter with you?" 
 
 "No. I've only been over-excited, and it's be 
 ginning to tell on me, that's all." 
 
 "Oh! A good night will put you right then. 
 I wish you pleasant dreams, if it's not superfluous.
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 139 
 
 Good-bye. I'm real glad you're so happy, Etta, 
 only I I" 
 
 He stopped abruptly and held out his hand. 
 
 "I thought you wanted some music, Seth?" 
 
 "Did I? I believe I did." 
 
 "Well, let me play for you." 
 
 "No, no! I'm all out of tune. You shall not 
 play for me or with me any longer! Good 
 bye." 
 
 "Good-bye ! Good-night is more in keeping 
 with the circumstances, isn't it?" 
 
 "No, I mean good-bye." 
 
 "Why, shan't we see you as usual?" she asked, 
 still ignoring his outstretched hand. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Perhaps perhaps, you'll visit us on the other 
 side, Seth?" 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 "Do you really mean it?" 
 
 "God knows I do!" 
 
 She slipped past his hand and nestled clingingly 
 against him. 
 
 "Then don't let me go !" she whispered, with 
 her lips against his ear. 
 
 "Etta!" 
 
 "Ah, Seth, don't let me go! Goosie, do you 
 think I could have so laughed, and talked, and 
 acted to-night if I had not meant to say this in 
 the end? Don't let me go, don't let me go!"
 
 140 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 There was a breathless pause, and then Seth's 
 voice rang out: 
 
 "By Heaven, I won't!" 
 
 She put her hand over his mouth. "Oh, hush! 
 There, Seth! If you squeeze any tighter you'll 
 break every bone in my body. And and don't 
 kiss me any more ! they'll they'll hear you !" 
 
 "Oh, Etta, why did you try me so?" 
 
 "Well, since I had made up my mind to do the 
 proposing, I was bound to take something out of 
 you first to even things up. My pride demanded 
 it. In fact, I couldn't have managed this without 
 it. My pride had locked my love up, you see, and 
 had thrown away the key; but I made another out 
 of Mummie's coronet and those teasing words. I 
 might have failed to free my love with any other 
 materials. So don't grudge me my innings 
 you'll have it all your own way from now !" 
 
 "My little queen! I'm only the meekest and 
 proudest of your subjects." 
 
 "There, Seth! Don't begin again. I hear 
 them moving in the next room. Mommer's going 
 to be awfully disappointed she hopes to make 
 me a Lady or a Countess, or a Duchess or a 
 Princess, Seth! She doesn't dream that they're 
 nothing in the scale against plain Mrs, S. 
 Lomack indeed, it is quite ridiculous that it 
 should be so." 
 
 "I say, sweetheart! Let's escape all the argu-
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 141 
 
 ments and pow-wowing by getting married on the 
 quiet, eh?" 
 
 "Oh, Seth, I'd like to! And, after all, I don't 
 think it would be wrong because we know 
 Mummie approved of you for me before this 
 Peeress business, and I can't see how the Doc's 
 succession has damaged you, can you?" 
 
 "Not a bit of it! And if I didn't know that 
 Mrs. Leon approved of me once, and that I'm no 
 worse since, I wouldn't urge you to the step. 
 What now stands between isn't worthy of any con 
 sideration, because it's all pure vanity!" 
 
 "But all the things that are being meanwhile got 
 ready for me, Seth?" 
 
 "They'll do for your trousseau, darling. The 
 gowns I wouldn't wish my little wife to wear the 
 tumble-to-pieces gowns, you know were to be 
 made on the other side, I think I understood?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "So we'll just slip out some day soon and be 
 married, and then we'll come back and break it to 
 them gently. There never was a surer way of 
 damping a threatening and irritating explosion 
 than by being able to begin with the simple asser 
 tion that it isn't of the slightest use !" 
 
 "I say, you two!" the Doctor here sung out. 
 "What's become of the music? And what was 
 Seth bawling about just now?" 
 
 "Etta's now going to begin, sir," Seth returned
 
 142 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 promptly, and they both flew to the piano, "and I 
 was bawling because because she startled me." 
 
 Not so many days later, Mr. and Mrs. Seth 
 Lomack presented themselves in their new dignity 
 to the powers that were. Standing hand in hand, 
 before Lord Kilburne and his prospective bride, 
 they acknowledged their marriage, defended each 
 other, and appealed to be forgiven and con 
 gratulated. It was impossible not to forgive 
 them, they were so young, and happy, and en 
 gaging ! 
 
 The first shock over, Lord Kilburne burst into 
 hearty laughter, and clapped sly Seth upon the 
 shoulder, and heartily embraced the wicked little 
 bride. Mrs. Leon came round more slowly; she 
 was deeply disappointed; her maternal pride had 
 received a severe blow. But by degrees Etta and 
 Seth won her over; and Lord Kilburne reminded 
 her, as a finishing touch, that there was always the 
 standing law of compensation to comfort. 
 
 "Think how much younger you'll look, mother, 
 without that little finished coquette beside you!" 
 he cried. 
 
 And Mrs. Leon smiled faintly, and protested no 
 further. 
 
 It was agreed that Etta should remain with her 
 mother until the latter sailed as the Countess Kil 
 burne. Both Etta and Seth wrote to tell Ethel of 
 their hurried marriage, and the reason for it ; and, 
 in replying, she showed her quick and wide sym-
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 143 
 
 pathy, and also how much the little romance had 
 charmed her. She was equally delighted with her 
 step-mother's brilliant prospects, and her congratu 
 lations to Lord Kilburne and his bride-to-be could 
 not have been more sincere or hearty. She wrote 
 to all four now freely of her profession ; and, but 
 for the circumstances of her having two desperate 
 cases on her hands at the time, she would have at 
 tended her step-mother's wedding. These four 
 letters were sent to their addresses direct from 
 New Orleans, and Ethel also wrote at the same 
 time and with the same frankness to Addie. So 
 Henry Law's long reign of tyranny was at last 
 over, and he was laughingly forgiven by his happy 
 victims. This good old man passed to his rest 
 during Ethel's second year as M. D. 
 
 Etta and Seth saw Lord Kilburne and Mrs. 
 Leon married early one day, and then this small 
 wedding party of four lunched together, and pro 
 ceeded to the docks and on board the big steamer 
 which was to convey the bride and groom to Ire 
 land. Many of the assembled passengers noticed 
 Etta admiringly, and, mistaking her for a passen 
 ger, looked forward to making her acquaintance 
 during the voyage. They did not notice a slight, 
 fair youth in her neighborhood, who was unobtru 
 sive with the calm sense of possession that is to 
 say, not until this same individual led her away 
 weeping, and she grew indistinct to them among 
 the motley crew frantically waving their pocket-
 
 144 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 handkerchiefs from the end of the pier long 
 after distance had hopelessly blurred the identity 
 of the passengers. 
 
 Etta and Seth went South for their honeymoon, 
 and finished up at New Orleans, of course. They 
 managed to get in at Mrs. Rice's, and a very 
 blooming Ethel welcomed them jubilantly. There 
 was no taint of jealousy to mar that joyous meet 
 ing : all three were so honestly and obviously satis 
 fied. Ethel was quite proud of the happy mar 
 riage she felt she had brought about, Seth's heart 
 was at rest, and Etta felt grateful all round. 
 Ethel arranged for a few days' holiday in honor 
 of the visit, and many a jolly outing did they enjoy 
 together under her ciceronage. 
 
 When they were leaving the Crescent City Ethel 
 informed them, as she was seeing them off at the 
 station, that her ambition was not yet satisfied 
 the successful nurse had made up her mind to study 
 medicine. 
 
 "Heavens, Ethel!" Etta exclaimed, "you won't 
 be satisfied until you murder some one. 
 
 They laughed, and Ethel added : 
 
 "No, I shan't commit murder unless, perhaps, 
 Doc, Dick, and Seth fail to prove exemplary hus 
 bands!" 
 
 But Seth was more sympathetic and compli 
 mentary. 
 
 "Famous!" he cried. "We want more women-
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 145 
 
 doctors, and you're just the cut for it, and there are 
 not many women who are." 
 
 "Thank you, Seth." 
 
 "But are you going to study here?" Etta asked. 
 "Oh, come back to the North to us!" 
 
 "No, sweetheart, I'm quite wedded to New 
 Orleans now. But, unfortunately, I find there are 
 no medical colleges in this city admitting women 
 students, so I can't study here; still, I'll study as 
 near here as possible. No more of your alter 
 nately bleak and roasting, bustling and squeezed 
 together North for me." 
 
 "Well, I am sure," there's a durability and en 
 terprise about us, at any rate, Ethel, which you 
 lack here!" cried Etta indignantly. Your frame 
 houses with their separate plots may be roomy and 
 airy, but they don't look as if they would stand 
 much, or long; and, besides, their effectiveness is 
 considerably marred by their not all being in the 
 same state of repair. The whole city has a toy- 
 like appearance to me ; rather a pretty toy at times, 
 but badly battered at frequent intervals. And the 
 mantle of indolence which envelops you! Ethel, 
 you're that lazy here!" 
 
 "We're always warm and contented, though," 
 Ethel smiled, "and we get there comfortably in the 
 end. I was inclined to think as you do at first, 
 Ettie; but only give New Orleans a fair chance, 
 and she'll win you in the end. Now, up North,
 
 146 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 you know, you're first thoroughly frozen and then 
 thoroughly baked, and you break your necks bust 
 ling, so can't enjoy the proceeds." 
 
 "Traitor!" 
 
 "Not at all, I'm simply honest. All aboard? 
 There ! I must go. Mind your head, Et, when 
 you sit up in the lower bunk, or you'll knock your 
 brains out. I nearly did coming down. Good 
 old Pullman ! just a couple of inches more would 
 have placed him beyond criticism. Good-by, 
 Kitten." 
 
 Etta clung to this big, strong, self-reliant sister 
 as if she could never let her go; and, when his 
 turn came, Seth kissed her, too, for the first and 
 last time in his life. 
 
 So the long train steamed out of the station, 
 and went on its way. Etta gazed out of the 
 window silently at the funny little places they 
 passed through, and smiled now and then at the 
 picturesque groups of dilapidated-looking but 
 happy darkies who crowded about the train at the 
 different stations. 
 
 An ever welcome diversion occurred presently in 
 the shape of an official-looking person who strutted 
 through the car with this warlike cry, "First call 
 to breakfast!" Seth rose at once and made Etta 
 leave her green velvet seat, and they followed in 
 the wake of this cry. Sqeezing through the nar 
 row passages, and hopping from one car to an 
 other, cars in blue and cars in red, they at length
 
 FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS 147 
 
 reached the dining-car, with its two rows of in 
 viting tables for two and four. 
 
 "Ethel's happy, Seth," his little wife remarked, 
 as they appropriated a tiny table for two, and the 
 head waiter pompously presented her a menu 
 framed in bright metal and shaped like a fan. 
 
 "As happy as a queen," he returned, glancing at 
 the smiling, white-jacketed negro, who was inclin 
 ing his ear for their order. "What will you have, 
 dear?"
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 A MASTER RIDDLE 
 
 The first post the morning after Ethel had taken 
 possession of the gray cottage brought Mrs. Lith a 
 surprise and a serious shock. The surprise came 
 in the shape of a fat-looking registered letter, for 
 registered letters were not common events in Mrs. 
 Lith's life; and its contents constituted the serious 
 shock. These were twenty dollars in notes 
 wrapped round a key, which Mrs. Lith instantly 
 identified as the key of the gray cottage, and, on 
 further investigation, the sturdy envelope yielded 
 a thin slip of paper on which was written : 
 
 "Dear Madam: The cottage has served my 
 purpose admirably, and, having now no further use 
 for it, I return you the key and one month's rent 
 ($20) in forfeit of due notice. The few articles 
 of furniture you will find in the cottage, please dis 
 pose of as you think fit ; I shall not want them any 
 more. 
 
 "Thanking you sincerely for all your courtesy, 
 "Faithfully yours, 
 
 "Ethel Leon." 
 
 Small wonder that this development excited 
 Mrs. Lith's consternation. What had happened?
 
 A MASTER RIDDLE 149 
 
 What did it all mean? "The cottage had served 
 her purpose admirably." What purpose? Per 
 haps only too likely a ghastly one! "She 
 wouldn't want the furniture any more." Why? 
 In Heaven's name? Unless she was done with 
 life and its needs ! 
 
 Mrs. Lith's ready imagination rose to higher 
 and higher flights the more she speculated on the 
 subject, and she trembled exceedingly. The 
 twenty dollars were most satisfactory and comfort 
 ing, still they could not calm her fears. She put 
 them away carefully, and, hastily swallowing a 
 little breakfast, she confided the house to the care 
 of her daughter, a girl of fifteen, and departed to 
 consult a neighbor and crony. Into Mrs. Elton's 
 ears timid Mrs. Lith poured the whole history of 
 the mystery which was appalling her. Mrs. Elton 
 followed her friend's lead with avidity, and 
 made much of the material on hand; indeed, it 
 was impossible to deny that these two ladies found 
 a certain amount of pleasure in exaggerating any 
 little excitement which served to break the placid 
 monotony of their lives. It was promptly agreed, 
 in this instance, that they should at once proceed 
 to the cottage and see what further details a strict 
 investigation of the scene of the mystery would 
 afford. 
 
 Mrs. Lith's nervousness increased as they pro 
 ceeded thither, and reached its height as her shak 
 ing hand inserted the key in the little front door.
 
 150 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 What would they see on opening it? In quick 
 succession her overstrung nerves presented to her 
 mental vision a series of gruesome pictures, and 
 the sudden wild thought that the police might 
 make out a suspicious case against her and hold 
 her responsible struck her full as she turned the 
 key in the lock. She shrank back with a great 
 gasp. 
 
 "Oh, I hope there's nothing wrong!" she 
 mumbled. "Whatever will become of me if there 
 is?" 
 
 "Why, what have you to do with it?" retorted 
 her more practical friend. "Nonsense!" 
 
 "Well," shivered Mrs. Lith, "It's my cottage, 
 and and she was alone, and the police say such 
 awful stupid things! They they might say 
 oh, I don't know what!" 
 
 Mrs. Elton laughed contemptuously. She was 
 one of those lucky beings born without nerves, or, 
 more properly, without any consciousness of them; 
 and she was afflicted with a stupendous bump of 
 curiosity. So she pushed past her terrified friend 
 impatiently, and entered the cottage. Rapidly she 
 peeped into all the rooms, and then called out 
 cheerily : 
 
 "She ain't here at any rate, Mrs. Lith, and 
 there's nothing terrible to see. So come! pull 
 yourself together, and let's look for a clue." 
 
 But there was no clue whatever, although the 
 two interested searchers worked diligently, thor-
 
 A MASTER RIDDLE 
 
 oughly and systematically. Three of the tiny fire 
 places presented all the appearance of having done 
 duty the day before ; but they had done it so thor 
 oughly, evidently under strict supervision, that the 
 ashes they contained were not to be identified in 
 their original form at least not by the two ama 
 teur analysts. 
 
 Reassured on the subject of those terrible pic 
 tures with which her uneasy imagination had har 
 assed her before entering, and comforted at not 
 finding the slightest clue which conscience would 
 dictate her following up and which might lead 
 to her further distress, Mrs. Lith, with a gigantic 
 sigh of relief, turned her attention approvingly on 
 the articles of furniture kindly handed over to her. 
 
 "It was real sweet of her, anyway, to leave me 
 these things, now wasn't it?" she remarked to her 
 friend, as she passed her handerkerchief over the 
 polished top of the table with an air of proud 
 proprietorship. 
 
 "Y-es," returned Mrs. Elton, with disparaging 
 envy. "They're pretty, but I don't think there's 
 much wear in 'em. Maybe I'm mistaken, though." 
 
 When Mrs. Lith's unexpected windfall had been 
 thoroughly admired and appraised, the two ladies 
 prepared to depart. 
 
 "Well, what are you going to do about it?" 
 queried Mrs. Elton, as they wended their way 
 homeward. 
 
 "Well," retorted the landlady, "I don't see as
 
 152 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 it's any business of mine but it looks queer, now 
 don't it?" 
 
 "Yes, it looks queer; though p'rhaps there's 
 nothing in it!" 
 
 "Well," resumed Mrs. Lith, "lest there may be, 
 I think I'll just let her friend, Mrs. Rice, where 
 she came to me from, know about it, and ease my 
 conscience of the responsibility. I must contrive 
 to see her during the day. Then I'm out of it; 
 I know nothing of the woman-doctor, beyond see 
 ing her twice; and Mrs. Rice must do as she 
 thinks best. Don't you think so?" 
 
 "Yes; it seems the most sensible thing to do." 
 
 So the friends parted amicably, and Mrs. Lith, 
 moist and short of breath over the exertion, called 
 on Mrs. Rice that afternoon and favored her with 
 a detailed account of Ethel's mysterious behavior. 
 
 The news startled and distressed Mrs. Rice ex 
 ceedingly, and she would not rest until she had sat 
 isfied herself personally that the cottage held no 
 clue. Satisfied on this point, Mrs. Rice cast about 
 in her mind as to who among Ethel's friends would 
 be most likely in a position to throw some light 
 on the matter, and immediately decided on Nurse 
 Kenworthy, as Ethel's most intimate and confi 
 dential associate. It was then getting late, how 
 ever, and Mrs. Rice was obliged to return to her 
 boarding-house, postponing the interview with the 
 nurse until the morrow. So she took leave of the 
 obsequious Mrs. Lith, promising to let her know
 
 A MASTER RIDDLE 153 
 
 results, and went away, sustained by the hope that 
 her mail might, in the mean time, bring her some 
 tidings. 
 
 But in this respect the postman disappointed 
 her, and her subsequent interview with Nurse 
 Kenworthy proved futile. The latter was simply 
 astounded at the facts disclosed to her, and could 
 throw no ray of light upon them, nor make any 
 suggestion, save that she thought it would be wise 
 to consult Ethel's good friend and patron, Mr. 
 Keystone, as the fittest person to advise them in 
 their bewilderment. 
 
 Mrs. Rice's judgment seconding this motion, 
 Mr. Keystone was consulted forthwith. He, too, 
 was surprised and puzzled at the riddle put before 
 him, as was only natural ; but he did not share the 
 ladies' alarm. His advice was: 
 
 "Let's wait another day or so and give Dr. 
 Leon a chance. No use making a fuss unless it's 
 absolutely necessary, and there's really nothing to 
 encourage any unpleasant ideas. It's my belief 
 she'll solve the riddle for us herself; at any rate 
 we may hear from her, or of her, in a day or two. 
 If we don't I think her people should be communi 
 cated with. You have her sister's address in 
 Brooklyn, haven't you, Mrs. Rice? Good! It's 
 their place to set detectives on her track, if they 
 think it needful; we have no right to interfere." 
 
 Thus it was left. The day or two dragged 
 slowly, anxiously by, and brought no tidings. Then
 
 154 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 Mrs. Seth Lomack was written to for information, 
 the whole case being laid bare to her, and she was 
 urgently appealed to for a prompt reply. The 
 answer came by return post a frightened, hur 
 ried letter. 
 
 Mrs. Seth Lomack was absolutely ignorant of 
 her sister's whereabouts, or of her intentions 
 had not heard from her for many months, almost 
 a year. The correspondence between Ethel and 
 her family had gradually dwindled as they be 
 came more and more absorbed in their individual 
 pursuits, to a yearly report that all was well. Mrs. 
 Lomack had last heard from her sister from Mrs. 
 Rice's, when there had been no suggestion of any 
 change or dissatisfaction; on the contrary, her 
 sister had then reported herself as well and happy, 
 and hopeful of the future. Mrs. Lomack and her 
 husband did not like the looks of the affair at 
 all, it had seriously grieved and alarmed them, 
 and they intended handing it over at once to the 
 police. 
 
 This was done without a moment's unnecessary 
 delay. No expense was spared, and a most care 
 ful searching investigation immediately ensued. 
 But it elicited nothing! Inquiries were made of 
 Etta as to Ethel's pecuniary affairs, and she gave 
 the information that her sister had a small for 
 tune invested in United States coupon bonds. It 
 was discovered that Ethel had had a box at the 
 Orleania Savings Bank and Safe Deposit Co., but
 
 A MASTER RIDDLE 155 
 
 had relinquished it on the day she disappeared. 
 What she had done with her securities was as deep 
 a mystery as to what she had done with herself. 
 For, as far as human ingenuity could discern, no 
 such person as Ethel Leon had left the city, and 
 there was no Ethel Leon in it. It seemed incred 
 ible that she could have vanished so mysteriously! 
 it seemed that there must be a trace of her some 
 where! Mr. and Mrs. Seth Lomack themselves 
 came South, and went over the old ground la 
 boriously. Still, nothing came of it. Mrs. Rice 
 repeated again and again her interview with Ethel, 
 when the latter had informed her of her contem 
 plated change, and spoke of Ethel's evident anxiety 
 to keep all her friends away from her new home 
 until she was, as she put it, "settled," and of how 
 pale and grave and worried the Doctor had looked 
 when she went away. Mrs. Lith retailed as fre 
 quently her two short interviews with the missing 
 woman, always under protest, with the old nervous 
 dread of being implicated in something blood-curd 
 ling; and exhibited the last note, which was read 
 and reread hundreds of times. The boy who had 
 delivered Ethel's purchases was nearly driven dis 
 tracted by questions ; but all he could say was that 
 the lady had looked all right when he saw her, that 
 she had taken the parcels from him herself at the 
 front door, and that he did not see, or hear, any 
 one else about the place. He gave the time of de 
 livering the packages in the forenoon, and appar-
 
 156 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 ently no one had seen her since. Nurse Kenworthy 
 and Mr. Keystone helped the distracted brother 
 and sister valiantly, and ransacked their memories 
 in the vain hope of recalling some half-forgotten 
 conversation which might afford a clue. 
 
 The newspapers had taken the matter up, of 
 course, and had boomed it far and wide, under 
 huge black headlines. Descriptions of the missing 
 woman bristled everywhere, appeals to her person 
 ally in the personal column of the "dailies" unfail 
 ingly met your eye, and big rewards for discovery 
 or clues were offered. People speculated, theorized 
 and wrote about the case ; and the popular opinion 
 was that it was one of suicide. The insufficient fur 
 niture of the cottage, the absence of provisions, of 
 help, etc., all pointed to this; but, on the other 
 hand, a suicide could not do away with her own 
 body, and why should any one else hide it? And 
 then the money? It was suggested that she had se 
 cretly disposed of this, and then consigned her 
 weary, disappointed body to the deep waters. The 
 ever-busy detectives followed up now this theory, 
 now that, hiding, kidnapping, suicide, murder, 
 they ran through the whole gamut and sifted each 
 to the ground, and still, for all their endeavors, 
 they ended, as they had begun, in darkness. 
 
 At length the sad facts were reluctantly com 
 municated to Mrs. Dicky Leigh and the Countess 
 of Kilburne, and Mr. and Mrs. Seth Lomack re 
 turned home.
 
 A MASTER RIDDLE 157 
 
 "Oh, Seth!" sobbed Etta, as the train was 
 steaming them northward, "do you think any harm 
 has come to Ethel? I feel miserable about her! 
 I wish I had written to her oftener, and been more 
 sympathetic; but I always was a selfish, self-cen 
 tered little beast! You don't think she's dead, do 
 you?" 
 
 "No, no!" he said quickly, shrinkingly. And 
 then he added more cheerfully, manfully trying to 
 stifle his secret, gnawing doubts. 
 
 "Trust me, wifie, we'll hear from Ethel some 
 day." 
 
 "Then I think it's a wicked shame of her!" 
 cried Etta, with all her old impetuosity. "A cruel, 
 wicked shame !" She dried her eyes, and stamped 
 her foot. "Yes, of all the crazy things she's been 
 guilty of, this caps the climax ! I hope she'll suffer 
 for it there!" 
 
 Her husband said nothing. 
 
 "Why don't you speak, Seth?" she went on ir 
 ritably. "It is a shame of Ethel, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes," he stammered slowly. "I I suppose it 
 is." 
 
 She was struck by his voice and the expression 
 of his face did not reassure her when she began to 
 analyze it. She took a sudden alarm. 
 
 "Oh, Seth!" she moaned, in quick self-reproach, 
 "you're not just trying to cheat me, are you? You 
 do think we shall hear from her some day?"
 
 158 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "Yes, dear," he repeated patiently, but he turned 
 his face from her as he replied. 
 
 It was what he had said on taking leave of the 
 coadjutors whom he had left behind him, still 
 busily working over the now forlorn hope ; but, as 
 far as the wondering citizens of the Crescent City 
 were concerned, the Fates had decreed that the 
 mystery of the gray cottage should never be solved. 
 
 Well, time went on, and the hopeless search for 
 Dr. Ethel Leon was at last abandoned. By de 
 grees the public ceased to speculate over her 
 strange disappearance; the subject no longer in 
 terested them keenly they had tired of it worn 
 it threadbare and, by and bye, the remnants of it 
 were laid aside to crumble to dust in oblivion. 
 
 Time went further on, and the Countess of Kil- 
 burne, Mrs. Dicky Leigh, and Mrs. Seth Lomack 
 grew resigned to the situation, and ceased to 
 trouble over it. Time went yet further on, and 
 even Lord Kilburne and Seth Lomack forgot to 
 puzzle over their strange old love in their private 
 moments of leisure. The mystery gradually fell 
 in the dim background of the lives of those it 
 touched most nearly, and it was only remembered 
 fitfully when some chance word, look, or action 
 brought the lost woman mercilessly back to them. 
 And then the white-robed ghost of the mystery 
 would dart out of her dim and musty closet in that 
 far shadowy background, dazzling them with the 
 contrast between her bright spotlessness and the
 
 A MASTER RIDDLE 159 
 
 dusty lumber of the past, and cry exultantly: 
 "Here I am! Still unsolved, and unsolvable!" 
 
 Ten years passed, and the gray cottage was the 
 center of a thriving, closely built-up section of the 
 fair Southern city of New Orleans. It had changed 
 hands, and its individuality was lost under a differ 
 ent shade of paint and a commonplace number; 
 and its dignity was seriously impaired by the close 
 encroachment of very many of its kind. It was no 
 longer the only pebble on the beach, and it seemed 
 to have a spiteful, shamefaced consciousness of the 
 fact; for it had turned a jaundiced yellow, and 
 had a tired, drooping air. Its former dainty 
 spruceness and impressive isolation were alike 
 gone, and no one recognized it as the scene of the 
 famous disappearance of a despondent lady-doc 
 tor indeed, few remembered the circumstance. 
 No. 39 Taoria Street meant nothing distinctive, 
 had alas ! nothing distinctive about it. True, 
 its walls had seen, and they knew they must al 
 ways know. But, bah! what of that? They were 
 the safest confidants this world can offer they 
 simply could not tell !
 
 CHAPTER X 
 SETH'S MISSION 
 
 At the close of those ten years Etta died. Life 
 had treated Etta very, very kindly; she had 
 laughed, and danced, and sung her way merrily 
 through it, with the sun always shining upon her, 
 and the way always cleared before her by loving 
 hands that asked no more than that their bruises 
 and scratches should be hidden from her gleesome 
 eyes. Time, too, had dealt most tenderly with 
 her ; the Etta of thirty-seven was still slight, grace 
 ful, and pretty, and had retained all her old co 
 quettish manner and general daintiness as easily 
 and as naturally as she had kept her husband's ad 
 miration and love. And now Death generously 
 followed the example set him by his rivals, though 
 he came full early: he kept out of her sight and 
 hearing; he touched her, when the appointed time 
 came, suddenly and painlessly, and Etta fell into 
 her last sleep with all her youthful contours un- 
 marred, with her dark, silky curls caressing her 
 little face as luxuriantly and as winsomely as of 
 yore, with the old bewitching smile stamped upon 
 her lips. 
 
 Seth couldn't feel it yet. He knew that he was 
 horribly, irreparably hurt; but it had been done
 
 SETH'S MISSION 161 
 
 so swiftly and unexpectedly that the shock had 
 mercifully stupefied him, and the wound didn't 
 smart yet. That it would do so by and bye, that 
 from that same quiescent spot would gush forth, 
 in his life's blood, all his interests, energies, and 
 ambition, he knew very well. That the loss would 
 leave him the most pitiful of weaklings, he clearly 
 foresaw. That those dull nerves of his would 
 sooner or later throw off their kind lethargy and 
 awake, and writhe, and cry, and rack him body 
 and soul, he fully realized. He even asked the 
 doctor how long he thought the shock would shield 
 him. 
 
 He had known, of course, that Etta's heart was 
 weak, but he had been assured that, with ordinary 
 care, the trouble would not grow serious. He had 
 taken special care, yet she was gone ! Some new 
 development must have taken place recently, giv 
 ing no outward sign. For Etta had not been at 
 all ailing she had simply spent a harassing day, 
 accomplishing some Christmas shopping in New 
 York, struggling through rough, motley crowds 
 from one huge store to another, and feverishly 
 trying to get all done in much too short a space of 
 time. Her husband had urged her to take some 
 one with her and to be satisfied to take it "easily"; 
 but she had not obeyed him. They had arranged 
 to go away on the morrow, and there were many 
 things to be done, so impatient Etta had set off
 
 1 62 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 by herself and "hustled" valiantly, not even giving 
 herself time for lunch. She arrived at home at 
 the end of the long day utterly exhausted. Her 
 husband saw it as soon as he came in, and re 
 proached her bitterly; and she had crept into his 
 arms like a spoiled, tired child, and sealed his lips 
 with hers. 
 
 He liked to remember how passionately he had 
 kissed her in return, and how the pretty color had 
 coursed back to her ashen face, under his gaze, and 
 she had looked up at him, half laughing, half cry 
 ing, and whispered: 
 
 "I don't think we shall ever tire of each other, 
 do you, Seth?" 
 
 And he had lifted her in his arms and carried 
 her to the sofa, and made her cosy there with rug 
 and cushions, and sternly forbade her to move 
 he would bring her her dinner. And Etta had 
 laughed at him for an old fidget, and made faces 
 at him, protesting she was all right, only naturally 
 tired; yet, with it all, she had submitted to his min 
 istrations with a dreamy sleepiness that was not 
 to be disguised. She had sunk back among the soft 
 cushions with a sigh of relief as Seth left the room 
 to fetch her first a glass of wine; and, on his re 
 turn, she had started up eagerly to take it from 
 him. But before her outstretched hand touched 
 the glass, and while she was still smiling up at 
 him, she gave a queer, half-strangled gasp and 
 fell back rigid. The doctor was at once sent for,
 
 SETH'S MISSION 163 
 
 and was a little time in coming; but Seth's alarm, 
 as he applied all known remedies, did not go be 
 yond an obstinate fainting fit. On the doctor's 
 arrival she was, after a brief examination, carried 
 to her room by her husband, the doctor following. 
 This accomplished, the doctor closed the door, and 
 gently told Seth the truth. Seth had only stared 
 in reply, until he had swayed and staggered, and 
 then sat down like one felled. 
 
 In this trance-like, unfeeling state he remained 
 for days. Yet he hardly left Etta, or suffered any 
 one to do anything for her which he could do him 
 self; but he did it all mechanically, and with a 
 mask-like face. He even put Etta into her coffin, 
 and went to her funeral, and carefully listened to 
 and watched the whole heart-breaking scene of her 
 burial without emerging from his apathy. It was 
 only on his return to the bereaved home, where he 
 would go, that the first pangs of what his wound 
 meant to him were felt. The stirring began while 
 his hand was yet upon the door, and he went 
 straight to his room their room where the 
 wound burst, and he lay prostrate in bleeding 
 agony. Etta was not his first love, but she was his 
 last, and he had made her his wife. Let cynics say 
 what they please, a man places the wife who has 
 kept her vows to him above and beyond all other 
 women, even when his fancy goes astray. Let him 
 be what he may, a good wife stands on such a pin 
 nacle in her husband's estimation that no other
 
 164 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 woman can rival her in the highest sense of the 
 word, whatever she may do in the lowest she can 
 not even touch her to degrade or tarnish her, for 
 she cannot reach her, struggle as she may. It is 
 only when the wife steps down from her pedestal 
 that they can meet on equal grounds. 
 
 And Seth's fancy had never strayed from the 
 wilful but sterling little creature he had made his 
 wife: theirs had been an ideally happy marriage: 
 they had sailed their fair ship harmoniously over 
 deep, troubled, and smooth waters, and now it lay 
 wrecked in all its prime and promise, because one 
 of the craftsmen had gone to her long rest and the 
 other had forgotten how to work without her. 
 Poor Seth ! He and Etta belonged to that rare 
 and lucky order of humanity that never seems to 
 grow old. He was in many respects still a boy: 
 his impulses were boyish, his tastes were boyish, 
 his talk was boyish. And with his slight build, and 
 ruddy hair, and clean-shaven face, he almost still 
 looked a boy. Certainly he did not begin to look 
 his forty-five years not even now when his face 
 was lined and careworn. So he lay, or sat, or 
 paced about in his sore desolation and feebleness, 
 and longed for his mother that he might sob out 
 his sorrow on her breast as in his childhood days : 
 he believed it would relieve and calm him as 
 nothing else could ; but that dear good mother had 
 long since died, and he tried to pacify himself with 
 the pretty fancy that she would surely meet his
 
 SETH'S MISSION 165 
 
 timid little wife at the gates of the Strange Land, 
 and mother her until he came. 
 
 His father and brother could do nothing with 
 him ; they urged him to go away, but he only said, 
 "Presently, presently!" and remained on in the 
 gloom-stricken house, helplessly trying to learn to 
 bear his loss fittingly. 
 
 Thus he fell ill. And in his delirium neither his 
 wife's name nor the mother for whom he had been 
 craving, strange to say, crossed his lips; but he 
 raved constantly for Ethel, the old love he had 
 almost forgotten. It seemed if he could only touch 
 her cool, firm hand, he would be quieted. . . .if 
 she would only come and dress his gaping wound, 
 in her gentle, capable, masterful way, it must surely 
 cease its smart and bleeding and begin to heal .... 
 if she would only stay by him and let his weakness 
 feed upon her strength, he must soon mend. He 
 saw her, too, in a hundred different ways and set 
 tings, and always stormed at her, then relentlessly 
 for her cruel abandonment of them all. Sometimes 
 it appeared that she would approach him and will 
 ingly minister to his needs, but he would repudiate 
 her aid now, and bid her begone. And then she 
 would vanish, and he would entreat her to come 
 back to him, and call her, "Ethel, Ethel, Ethel!" 
 over and over again like a wailing child, and never 
 leave off calling her until she came when the 
 whole scene would be repeated. Somehow his 
 cruel fancies never allowed the Dream-Ethel, how-
 
 1 66 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 ever eager, to soothe and serve him: he was al 
 ways angrily rebellious in her presence, and only 
 pleadingly submissive when she was gone. It is 
 not only in delirium that human nature is thus un 
 reasonable and self-wounding. 
 
 When Seth at length recovered his senses, and, 
 in some measure, his health and strength, he in 
 vited his father and brother one evening to a fam 
 ily council, at which he promised to unfold his now 
 clearly thought-out and firmly settled plans for the 
 future. They obeyed him gladly, for the subject 
 had long troubled them. After certain prelimin 
 aries, Seth made his announcement. 
 
 "Well, I've decided to go away," he said. "I 
 may travel, but I don't know. I mean, however, 
 to set off as quickly as I can manage it." 
 
 They applauded his resolution heartily. 
 
 "I only regret it has come as late as it has," re 
 marked his father. "I only wish you had set off 
 when we first suggested it to you. It might have 
 averted this breakdown." 
 
 "I don't think so," Seth rejoined. "At any rate, 
 I couldn't have gone without an object. I detest 
 aimless wandering always did." 
 
 "Well, I guess the same object that does now 
 would have done then, my boy," retorted Lomack 
 Senior. "The re-establishment of your health." 
 
 "Ah, but I'm not going for that, sir!" Seth 
 cried, sitting up impressively. "My health doesn't 
 interest me at all now, except that, as it seems I've
 
 SETH'S MISSION 167 
 
 got to live yet a while, I'd sooner be feeling fit 
 than rotten. But I couldn't go out of my way just 
 to accomplish this, I haven't sufficient will and 
 desire over it, I'd sooner lie here and rot than 
 make any effort purely for myself." 
 
 "A very pretty confession, indeed!" sarcastically 
 growled the sturdy old pater familias of seventy. 
 "It's a good thing for you then that you've dis 
 covered an object worthy of a little spunk that the 
 vital question your health may get a few sur 
 reptitious innings. I shall be interested to hear 
 more of this marvelous object presently. Mean 
 while, I am ashamed of you, Seth ! However, set 
 off at once by all means, and take a good long 
 change; and then, when you feel quite in form 
 again and inclined to tackle business once more, 
 come back to us and show us how to do it. Dacre 
 and I will do the best for the old firm while you're 
 lording it, my boy; and we'll try to have every 
 thing ship-shape for your return. 
 
 "That's just it, sir," broke in Seth eagerly. "I 
 don't want to come back to business at all I want 
 to chuck the whole thing at once and for all. You 
 see, I've made a modest pile at any rate, I've 
 earned enough for me to live on comfortably 
 enough for the rest of my life ; and and I've been 
 badly hurt too late in the day for me to feel in 
 clined to battle on with the world just for the 
 glory of it. Glory's all right when there's some 
 one else to hand it over to, or hand it down to ; but
 
 1 68 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 it doesn't count unless .... and I'm out of that 
 now. There'd have to be the real need to spur me 
 on to-day; and, as I've said, it's lacking." 
 
 "You surprise me, Seth!" said the old veteran 
 reproachfully. "Why, you're much too young to 
 cave in like this. I thought I am sure there's 
 more grit in you." 
 
 "And what on earth will you do with your 
 time?" amended his brother. 
 
 "Well, now, I'll tell you !" and the widower's 
 sudden air of alertness astonished them. "I'm go 
 ing to find Ethel or, if not find her, learn what 
 has become of her." 
 
 They started, and stared at him in dismay. Had 
 his trouble and illness turned his brain? No, he 
 looked back at them in quiet steadfastness of pur 
 pose, and repeated his mission-to-be with quiet 
 resolution. 
 
 "A dreary, hopeless task!" the old man at 
 length said. "Why, look how long you had her 
 searched for by professionals, and on the spot, 
 Seth, and at the time. It's now more than ten 
 years since she disappeared. A dreary, hopeless 
 task!" 
 
 "Yes. But I mean to devote my whole life and 
 all my energies from now to the unravelling of the 
 mystery, father ! I mean to search for her, or news 
 of her, if necessary, in every land. I mean to go 
 down to New Orleans as the starting-point, and be 
 gin there to probe, and gather up, and piece to-
 
 SETH'S MISSION 169 
 
 gether every scrap of evidence concerning her, how 
 ever tiny or seemingly irrelevant. I mean to fol 
 low the trail with the patience and care and fidel 
 ity of a searcher whose whole aim in life is cen 
 tered in the hunt. No hound, professional or other 
 wise, with that incentive has yet been on her 
 track but, please God, one will start soon. I 
 mean from henceforward to work at the search 
 only, to think of it only, to follow it only from 
 year to year, from place to place, through good 
 or ill health, through all weariness of the spirit, 
 through all discomfort and through all discourage 
 ment. . . .1 mean, if necessary, to die doing it!" 
 
 The braced-up figure and brightened face, the 
 earnest, ringing words, the expressively raised 
 hand electrified his hearers. The three men silently 
 read each other's frank countenances as the mo 
 ments sped on; then Seth, his sudden animation 
 deserting him, sank back wearily in his chair, and 
 the light died out of his face. 
 
 "Why why, I didn't know Ethel was so much 
 to you as all that, Seth!" the old man stammered, 
 when the silence grew too oppressive to be further 
 borne. "I thought, like the rest of us, that you 
 had almost forgive me! forgotten her." 
 
 "Well, father, I don't think you are far wrong, 
 so you needn't apologize. I believe I did forget 
 her. . . .1 know I thought I had. But she came 
 back to me in my illness" he sat up again with a 
 return of his former fire "in all her old original
 
 170 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 impressiveness, in all her old all-swaying power, 
 in all her old irresistible charm ! There was no 
 one I wanted then like Ethel, no one who could 
 help me like Ethel, no rousing interest left me but 
 Ethel. I called upon her and saw her many, many 
 times, I know ; for I often came to my senses with 
 her name upon my lips, and my arms outstretched 
 to seize her. You must have known it." 
 
 They nodded, and his brother added gently, 
 
 "But you were delirious, Seth!" 
 
 "Yes; and so far I have remained delirious, and 
 so far I shall remain delirious." 
 
 "It is a sick fancy, my boy," said his father. 
 
 "But I am not a sick man now," protested Seth, 
 "only a sorrowing one. I want occupation, diver 
 sion, and interest to bring me back to my normal 
 point; and I tell you, as a man who is old enough 
 to understand himself thoroughly, that the only 
 incentive in the world which can rouse me to the 
 necessary effort now is Ethel!" 
 
 There seemed to be no answer to this, yet father 
 and brother looked at him inquiringly and he re 
 sponded to their dumb questioning. 
 
 "I have said," he resumed, "that Ethel has 
 come back to me with all her old force and irre- 
 sitibility, and I mean every word of it. But the 
 character of her charm and strengthening influ 
 ence for me has necessarily changed from the ro 
 mantic to the brotherly. All romance for me now 
 is buried forever in Etta's grave. You both know
 
 SETH'S MISSION 171 
 
 that Ethel was once the first woman in the world 
 for me .... then Etta came and made her sec 
 ond. . . . Etta came, and not only made her second, 
 but hushed my restless thoughts of her so sound 
 asleep that I thought I had forgotten! Etta's 
 gone now .... the hushing hand is removed .... 
 and my former feelings for Ethel are awake once 
 more in all their old-time vigor. But for the sister 
 Ethel now, you understand no longer the potential 
 wife. I'd like to follow Etta at once, if I could 
 . . . .but I can't. . . .I've got to go on existing a 
 bit longer. . . .and Etta out of my life, Ethel be 
 comes again its dominant note. I might talk to 
 you till doomsday without making you realize one 
 tithe of my longing to pour out my woes to her and 
 let her comfort me, or my yearning for her spir 
 ited companionship to help me on my bereaved 
 way. I'm always ready to help her, of course .... 
 but she's never needed it, never will I know. . . . 
 so I'm simply going to ask her to succor me." 
 
 "But, Seth !" faltered the old man, "suppose 
 suppose " 
 
 "That she isn't living, father?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then I want to know how she died." Seth's 
 face had whitened at the suggestion, but his voice 
 was calm. 
 
 "And when you do know?" 
 
 "I'll come back to you." 
 
 "And should you find her?"
 
 172 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "Forgive me! I think then I must stay by her 
 to the end." 
 
 They did their very best to dissuade him from 
 his gloomy, unpromising quest, but it was quite 
 useless. Outside the sombre house Lomack, 
 Senior, and Dacre paused and looked at each other. 
 
 "That Ethel Leon," the former slowly said, 
 "was a strangely interesting woman, Dacre one of 
 those rare women who make history instead of 
 frivolity." 
 
 "Yes," assented the son. "I always had an odd 
 sense of her power whenever I came near her." 
 
 The old man heaved a sigh, and descended the 
 stoop. 
 
 "Do you think she's dead, sir?" Dacre asked as 
 he followed. 
 
 "Oh, undoubtedly." 
 
 But Seth did not. He went down to New 
 Orleans, and began to hunt up a scent quite hope 
 fully. The many changes the eleven years had 
 brought, however, were undeniably chilling at the 
 outset: he did not begin to realize how long ago 
 it had happened, what ancient history it was, until 
 he tried to rake the mystery up. Seth was de 
 pending principally on the reminiscences of those 
 who had been more or less intimately associated 
 with the lost woman for his clue and Mrs. Rice's 
 establishment had been handed over to younger 
 hands some time ago, and Mrs. Rice herself had 
 gone North, they were not quite sure where ; Nurse
 
 SETH S MISSION 173 
 
 Kenworthy and her family had also left the city 
 some years ago, and had gone "somewhere" out 
 West; Mrs. Elton and Mrs. Lith had "shuffled off 
 this mortal coil," and the latter's daughter had mar 
 ried and also gone away "somewhere"; and lastly, 
 the detective who had organized the old search was 
 now an imbecile paralytic, and his notes of the case 
 could not be traced. So Seth failed, under all its 
 disguises and the numerous outside encroachments 
 on its once lonely site, even to establish satisfactor 
 ily the identity of the gray cottage. Not that he 
 had hoped anything from this, but it added, in its 
 way, to the dreariness of the prospect. Only the 
 Keystones remained, and Seth made much of them. 
 They had never been to the gray cottage, and 
 could not help him there; but they went over as 
 much of the old ground with him as they could, 
 in all patience and in growing interest. Seth felt 
 intensely grateful to them; but months went by 
 and still he had laid his hand on nothing to be 
 followed up, and so he lingered on. 
 
 Calling one afternoon at the Keystones, Seth 
 discovered Baby Keystone, aged five, in the hall 
 in great distress. Before the maid, after whom 
 Dannie had run in defiance, could sweep the cul 
 prit out of sight and announce that her mistress 
 was indisposed, Seth collared the youngster and 
 insisted on his confidence. 
 
 Seth was very fond of children and won their 
 confidence easily. The story now unfolded to him
 
 174 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 was to the effect that Mummie had promised to 
 take him to see some juggling that afternoon, but 
 now she had a headache and couldn't go, and 
 nurse couldn't be spared. Seth, always anxious 
 to show his regard for the family, thereupon sent 
 a message of condolence to Mrs. Keystone and a 
 petition to be allowed the pleasure of taking 
 Dannie to the show. Mrs. Keystone was reluc 
 tant to impose on such good-nature, but her consent 
 was finally extorted, particulars were furnished, 
 and the happy pair set off, hand in hand. 
 
 In the first part of the programme Monsieur 
 le Professeur juggled, and Dannie sat enraptured ; 
 in the second part, Madame, his wife, went into a 
 trance, in order to answer, clairvoyantly, any ques 
 tions the audience might be pleased to put, and 
 Dannie's interest paled. Nevertheless, he insisted 
 on his host and himself each putting a question; 
 and he handed in his painfully scrawled, "How 
 ol's I?" with becoming importance. Seth, obeying 
 a strange, strong impulse, had written, rather 
 shame-facedly, the one question now absorbing 
 him "Where is Dr. Ethel Leon, who disappeared 
 mysteriously from this city on the i cth of Septem 
 ber, 1 8 ?", 
 
 Dannie now watched the proceedings on the 
 stage with tireless vigilance, and his question was 
 answered first he clapped his chubby hands glee 
 fully over the amazing truthfulness of the reply. 
 When Seth's turn came, in spite of his scepticism
 
 SETIl's MISSION 175 
 
 and of his oft-boasted contempt for what he termed 
 "such wretched trickery," his pulses quickened. 
 His peculiar answer was "Seek her in the sun 
 shine where the cabbage-palm trees grow." Its 
 vagueness irritated him, and then he laughed at 
 himself for inconsistently attaching any importance 
 to it. He determined to dismiss the subject from 
 his mind, after fictitiously satisfying Dannie's 
 curiosity over it. But it had an obstinacy of its 
 own, a superior obstinacy, for it wouldn't be 
 dismissed. That strange sentence rang in his ears 
 morning, noon, and night. Like an importunate 
 beggar, it followed him everywhere in a whining 
 monotone. It troubled him so persistently and 
 deeply that at last he found the courage to confide 
 his weakness to Mr. Keystone. The latter took 
 it humorously, of course. 
 
 "Humbug!" he smiled. "Sentimental humbug! 
 'Seek her in the sunshine where the cabbage-palm 
 trees grow !' Well, it's not very compromising 
 to Madame, certainly the clever jade!" 
 
 "Where do the cabbage-palm trees grow?" 
 asked Seth, with an eagerness he entirely failed to 
 conceal. 
 
 "Why, they grow in the West Indies, and in 
 several parts of South America a large order, 
 eh?" 
 
 "Mr. Keystone, did Ethel speak to you about 
 either of those places?" 
 
 "Well, now I come to think of it, I talked to her
 
 176 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 a lot about the West Indies, you know I come 
 from there, and she was always so interested to 
 hear about them." 
 
 "Ah!" Seth was growing queerly excited. He 
 actually said, "Why didn't we think of this 
 before!" 
 
 "But just reason a little, Mr. Lomack," urged 
 his host. "I think you'll agree with me that Dr. 
 Leon's first idea was to get on in her profession, 
 wasn't it now?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And if she went away at all she'd go to some 
 place that would offer her a better chance of get 
 ting on than this did that's a fairly reasonable 
 supposition, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, the West Indies wouldn't offer more 
 scope for her, they'd offer less they're about twice 
 as conservative as this is; and Dr. Leon would 
 gather that naturally in her talk with me. She'd 
 never go there I never met a more ambitious 
 woman ! If she's living you may take my word 
 for it she's doing better than she did here and 
 that's not in the Carribean Isles! But I think 
 forgive me ! that she's dead, or some of you 
 would have heard from her." 
 
 Truly it seemed like it. Seth began to grow 
 miserable over his fruitless efforts; and, in spite 
 of all reason, the clairvoyant's advice continued to 
 haunt and torment him. At last he appeared one
 
 SETH'S MISSION 177 
 
 evening before Mr. Keystone, flushed and trem 
 bling. 
 
 "I've come to say good-by," he cried. "I'm not 
 going to waste any more time here .... I am 
 going, folly or no folly, to follow up the single 
 clue this place has given me." 
 
 "What on earth do you mean?" gasped his host. 
 
 "Why, that 'there's more in heaven and earth, 
 Horatio, than is dreamt of in our philosophy,' as 
 the great Will cautioned us centuries ago; and I'm 
 going to seek my dear old sister 'where the cab 
 bage-palm trees grow!' A million thanks, good 
 friend. Good-by." 
 
 12
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 A GLEAM OF HOPE 
 
 Seth Lomack sat in a huge cane rocking-chair 
 on the wide veranda of his hotel, and, like all good 
 Americans, rocked himself vigorously. Before 
 him, at no great distance, lay a beautiful sea with 
 the sun sparkling upon it, a sea of a blueness he had 
 only before seen in pictures. The sandy beach 
 was, too, of quite a picturesque whiteness, vying 
 with the foam of the gently in-breaking waves. At 
 one part of the coast-line before him a handsome 
 group of rocks jutted on the sea, and here a pleas 
 ant promenade was formed, with bandstand, 
 benches, and a shelter. Seth had enjoyed himself 
 here in the evenings, particularly on band-nights, 
 when he would listen to the happy selections of 
 the good military band, as he sat apart from the 
 gay assemblage, in a secluded nook on one of those 
 over-hanging rocks, and watched the spray shoot 
 up all about him. There was only one thing that 
 he enjoyed more, and that was his dip every morn 
 ing in that same mild translucent sea. It was 
 quite a fascinating feat, after his awakening cup 
 of coffee at 5 a. m., to turn out and walk over the
 
 A GLEAM OF HOPE 179 
 
 sea on a narrow bridge about fifty feet long, at the 
 end of which was a neat bathing house with steps 
 leading down into the water. Had Seth had any 
 experience of the lake-bathing in the South of his 
 own country it would not have seemed so novel to 
 him; but he only knew of the rough surf-bathing 
 from the beaches of the North. 
 
 He now looked about him, at the rich green 
 foliage, so restful to the eye; at the many and 
 various blossoms forming brilliant patches of color; 
 and at the dazzling white coral roads, which fairly 
 made him wince. Then his eyes would return 
 faithfully to some specimen of those distinctive 
 cabbage-palm trees, and his mind would resume its 
 speculations on the matter now nearest his heart. 
 And while he was doing this he drew in the soft 
 sweet air in deep draughts, and reveled in the 
 pretty quietness and spotless cleanliness of all 
 about him. So this was the Tropics ! an ideal 
 holiday resort certainly for a dusty, overstrained 
 New Yorker. He had never seen a bluer sky or sea, 
 or greener trees and shrubs, or brighter flowers, or 
 whiter roads, or less smoke and dust, or more 
 glorious sunsets. And, in all his life, poor 
 jostling, metropolitan specimen! he had never 
 breathed such pure air. He had come direct as 
 far as the most windward of the Caribbean Isles, 
 the Island of Barbados, determining to begin his 
 inquiries there, and to work his way onward, if 
 necessary, through the other islands. South
 
 l8o A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 America could come later, if needful ; but there 
 was more ground to work on here for Ethel had 
 expressed an interest in these charming islands, 
 and, what is more, had gained some information 
 about them. Barbados, too, as admittedly the 
 most enterprising of the group, was a good start 
 ing-point. So here Seth was comfortably estab 
 lished at the best hotel "Little England" could 
 offer him. He worked at his subtle inquiries in 
 the early mornings and from five in the afternoons; 
 but during the fierce heat of the day nothing much 
 could be done, and he sat on that delightful 
 veranda and took his ease. This enforced rest, 
 amid such glorious air and peaceful surroundings, 
 did the weary, depressed man a world of good : he 
 had not been there very long before he began to 
 look like one rejuvenated. He was there osten 
 sibly for his health, and this plea enabled him to 
 refuse quite naturally to join the friendly guests 
 at the hotel in their various forms of merrymak 
 ing, which would have meant the absorption of far 
 too much of his valuable time. 
 
 Sitting in the veranda thus day after day, with 
 his pipe and papers and ever-busy thoughts as com 
 panions, Seth observed that, regularly every morn 
 ing and afternoon, a neat buggy was driven up by 
 a slim black youth in livery, from which descended 
 a spare, smallish man, with crimpy grizzled hair, 
 a clean-shaven face, much lined and tanned, and 
 eyes hidden behind a pair of smoked pince-nez.
 
 A GLEAM OF HOPE l8l 
 
 This man was always sprucely dressed, and had an 
 alert, professional air; and taking all the circum 
 stances into consideration, the most likely supposi 
 tion was that he was a doctor. But supposi 
 tion was not good enough. It was Seth's business 
 now to find out who everybody was, but also to 
 do so without exciting unwelcome curiosity as to his 
 motives; so he let this dried little man come and 
 go a few times before he made any attempt to 
 gather his name and calling. The man always 
 entered the hotel briskly, and was afterwards 
 rapidly driven away. And at the solitary indi 
 vidual on the veranda, furtively watching him, 
 with his Panama hat tipped over his nose, the doc 
 tor if such he were hardly glanced. It was 
 usual for Seth to have the veranda pretty well to 
 himself during the day; for the other guests of 
 leisure were principally ladies, who shrank from 
 risking their complexions in the merciless glare, 
 and the men were off at their various pursuits. So 
 Seth sat, and looked, and noted, all alone in his 
 glory. 
 
 At last one afternoon, immediately after the 
 master had entered the hotel, Seth leisurely rose, 
 stretched himself, and lounged over to where the 
 buggy stood, and entered into a casual conversa 
 tion with the servant. The horse offered a good 
 pretext : Seth was fond of horses, and knew some 
 thing about them, too ; and the bay cob before him
 
 1 82 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 was a very fair specimen. He looked him over 
 with natural interest. 
 
 "A very pretty animal that," he observed to the 
 good-natured looking custodian, "and well kept 
 too. I am fond of horses." 
 
 "Yes, sah," responded the pleased youth, with 
 the usual wide grin, and touching his hat. "Massa' 
 mighty 'ticular 'bout him." 
 
 "And you have charge of him entirely?" 
 
 "Yes, sah." 
 
 "Well, he does you credit." 
 
 "Thank 'ee, sah." 
 
 "He'd make a good saddle-horse, I should 
 think," Seth pursued, as he again ran the animal's 
 good points over with his eye. "Capital." 
 
 "Yes, sah. But Massa' doan ride, him always 
 drives." 
 
 Seth began to curse the vagueness of 'Massa', 'as 
 the minutes flew on. 
 
 "Well, driving's pleasanter than riding if you've 
 got to turn out in the heat of the day," he con 
 tinued desperately, "but at no other time, I think." 
 
 The negro assented as before. 
 
 "Massa' heap of patients," he afterward added 
 in explanatio'n and defence. "Him very busy all 
 day, sah." 
 
 "Ah!" One of Seth's points was at last gained, 
 without the always-to-be-avoided if possible direct 
 inquiry, which might excite comment and possibly
 
 A GLEAM OF HOPE 183 
 
 arouse suspicion. "A doctor then, I suppose?" 
 he remarked carelessly. 
 
 "Yes, sah." 
 
 "I didn't know we had any one sick here," was 
 Seth's next most natural comment, as his curiosity 
 flew from the frankly avowed doctor to the un 
 known patient. 
 
 But the darky couldn't satisfy him here. 
 
 "I dunno who 'tis, sah," he returned. "Massa' 
 nebber talk 'bout his patients." 
 
 "No, of course not!" Seth smiled. "No doctor 
 worthy of the name ever does." And feeling that 
 he had said enough for the present, he turned away 
 with a pleasant nod. 
 
 The Doctor shortly afterward appeared, and 
 was driven off as usual. 
 
 The next day, Seth, in a casual chat with one of 
 the clerks of the hotel, idly inquired who the in 
 valid was. 
 
 "A lady from New York," he was informed, 
 "who had not been there very long. She was alone 
 and dangerously ill, but everything possible was 
 being done for her." 
 
 With his now restless spirit to sift everything 
 which obtruded itself on his notice to the ground, 
 Seth pursued as cautiously as possible : 
 
 "I am a New Yorker, you know, and I have a 
 wide acquaintance there. Perhaps I know this 
 lady, and may be of some assistance to her as you 
 say she is alone. What is her name?"
 
 184 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "Miss Jones; I expect you know more than one, 
 sir." 
 
 "Yes, I do." But Seth's curiosity was not satis 
 fied, for "Miss Jones," was unquestionably a con 
 venient pseudonym, as well as an honest patrony 
 mic, so he felt compelled to go on. "Of course I 
 know several," he repeated. "But perhaps a per 
 sonal description would enable me to identify a 
 friend in need. Would you mind telling me what 
 she is like?" 
 
 "Well, I'm a bad hand at description, sir, but 
 I'll do my best with pleasure. She's tall, and 
 slight, and dark, and she has a lot of straight black 
 hair, turning very gray. I should say she was 
 somewhere round fifty; and she has remarkably 
 fine dark eyes." 
 
 The description was too general to be distinctive, 
 still its generalities tallied with Seth's ever present 
 idea of Ethel as she now must be. His interest 
 deepened immediately. 
 
 "I believe I know the lady," he ventured boldly. 
 "Can you tell me her Christian name?" 
 
 "No, sir. The initial is 'E' though. Miss E. 
 Jones she signed." 
 
 Another little point which fitted in. Seth felt, 
 poor hungry hunter, quite triumphant over it. 
 
 "I wish I could see her!" he ejaculated. "The 
 initial is all right." 
 
 "It's impossible for you to see her, I think," re 
 turned the clerk, "but the doctor will be the best
 
 A GLEAM OF HOPE 185 
 
 person for you to consult. From all accounts, I 
 am afraid, poor woman, that you won't be able 
 to see her for some time. Even when she was 
 about, she seemed to shun people, and creep away 
 somewhere by herself; and she evaded question 
 ing with the skill of a lawyer: I never met any 
 one more reserved and retiring. We all say 
 there's a mystery about her." 
 
 Further confirmation. Seth began to feel quite 
 flustered over it. Had he been searching round 
 the island with the lost woman all the while under 
 the same roof with him? Was this another of 
 life's queer little ironies? Was the work to which 
 he had dedicated his whole life really going to 
 prove to be over before it had fairly begun? With 
 these questions careering wildly through his brain, 
 Seth asked eagerly whether the lady had all she 
 wanted. 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir. Seems to be no lack of money, 
 and she couldn't be in better hands." 
 
 "May I ask what is the matter with her?" 
 
 "Fever," vaguely returned the clerk. And im 
 mediately added, "Excuse me, sir!" and turned to 
 attend to another importunate guest who had just 
 come up. 
 
 Seth went out on the veranda, and sat down to 
 think it all over as calmly as he could. Ethel 
 would have no need of money, too ! It was pass 
 ing strange still, taken practically, what did it 
 amount to? Nothing, less than nothing! He
 
 1 86 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 had not gleaned a single positive fact to support 
 his feverish conjecture only details, which, if they 
 applied to Ethel, applied as well to hundreds and 
 thousands of other women. And yet his excite 
 ment in the matter would not cool. He awaited 
 the arrival of the Doctor with furious impatience, 
 and, when the buggy drove up, he thrilled from 
 head to foot. His impatience would have ques 
 tioned the Doctor on the spot, but before he could 
 pull himself together the quick little man had en 
 tered the house. Seth rose, and pending the Doc 
 tor's return paced the veranda with beating pulses 
 and an introspective mind. He had no thought 
 for his former friend, the slim, black coachman 
 he never even glanced at him. William looked at 
 him wistfully several times, for the blacks are of 
 a sociable nature and take a childish pleasure in 
 being noticed; but the "nice gen'lman" was plainly 
 out of sorts this morning, so William had to content 
 himself with silently ruminating on the cause of 
 the trouble. 
 
 Presently the Doctor's crisp footsteps were heard 
 approaching along the uncarpeted floors. Seth 
 happened to be at the far end of the veranda as 
 these same footsteps grew more and more distinct 
 and passed over the threshold of the door, but he 
 dashed forward as the Doctor came out, and laid 
 a firmly detaining hand on his arm. The Doctor 
 had come out with his hands clasped behind him, 
 his head bent, his eyes downcast plainly deep in
 
 A GLEAM OF HOPE 187 
 
 thought, although this did not affect his naturally 
 quick progress. He started violently at Seth's 
 sudden onslaught, and, raising his head sharply, 
 met Seth's pleading eyes. There was an instan 
 taneous pause on the Doctor's part, while Seth 
 stammered incoherently : 
 
 "I'm not ill, Doctor. . . .but can you will 
 you grant me a few moments' conversation? I 
 I should be so much obliged." 
 
 The startled Doctor threw him off roughly, with 
 a muttered: 
 
 "Sorry! I haven't a moment to spare," and 
 shot forward into the buggy. "Home, William !" 
 he cried peremptorilly, and was instantly obeyed. 
 
 The generous darky cast a compassionate look 
 at his fickle friend as they trotted away. Seth, 
 after his severe rebuff, had walked off proudly a 
 few paces, and was now leaning on the railing of 
 the veranda with a dejection which no pride could 
 disguise, and gazing hopelessly after the rude doc 
 tor. He felt the repulse most keenly, and the 
 doctor's discourtesy had aroused all his pride; 
 nevertheless, he did not intend to allow that 
 troublesome characteristic to master him in his 
 quest. True, he had gone about his object with 
 clumsy haste, he was quite conscious of this but 
 that fact, to him, did not justify, could not excuse 
 the doctor's behavior. 
 
 "I'll get what I want out of that little cad," he
 
 1 88 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 muttered vindictively, as he strolled back to his 
 chair, "and then I'll wring his neck." 
 
 But human nature is not to be driven; Seth 
 watched the return of the Doctor that same after 
 noon from his usual seat, and he did not stir. He 
 told himself that he meant to waylay him again on 
 his way out, but he listened to his returning foot 
 steps without moving, without even raising his 
 eyes. It was only when he failed to hear the ex 
 pected crunching of the buggy wheels as it should 
 nave driven off that he looked up inquiringly. The 
 buggy still stood before the steps, and the Doctor 
 had come to a halt half-way between the door and 
 it, and was looking at him hesitatingly. Seth in 
 stantly lowered his eyes and took up a paper. But 
 his heart-beats quickened in glad triumph when he 
 heard the undaunted Doctor approaching him. He 
 raised his head and glared at the Doctor's smoky 
 pince-nez in uncompromising sternness. 
 
 "I have come to apologize, sir." the doctor said 
 with unruffled ease, "for my exceeding rudeness to 
 you this morning. I can only urge for myself that 
 the excuse I made was an honest one, that I was 
 at the moment much preoccupied and worried. 
 We doctors are not supposed to have any nerves, 
 but, believe me, they trouble us at times tremend 
 ously. Now, I trust I am understood, sir, and 
 acquitted of any intention to offend, eh?" 
 
 He held out his hand. Seth took it. The man 
 had completely won him over, had interested him
 
 A GLEAM OF HOPE 189 
 
 at once. This unattractive looking and offending 
 little man was really rather fascinating ! The only 
 thing about the Doctor which now grated on Seth 
 was his voice: he spoke very drawlingly, with a 
 strong West Indian intonation. 
 
 "May I now hope to hear," he resumed, sinking 
 into a chair beside Seth, "what I can do for you, 
 sir?" 
 
 "Are you quite sure that you can now spare the 
 time comfortably, Doctor?" Seth returned "I 
 don't want to take advantage of your your " 
 
 "Remorse," suggested the Doctor, with a hu 
 morous quiver of the lips. 
 
 "Say rather good-nature," Seth amended smil 
 ingly. 
 
 The methodical Doctor drew out his watch and 
 looked at it. 
 
 "I can give you," he said, as he returned it to 
 his pocket, " for the present, that is, fifteen 
 minutes." 
 
 "Many thanks." 
 
 So Seth unfolded his tale the same with which 
 he had bored the civil, harassed clerk. He had 
 learned from questioning the clerk, he admitted, 
 that the Doctor had a lady patient in the hotel of 
 the name of Jones; he believed from the particu 
 lars he had gathered that he knew this Miss 
 Jones that she was, in fact, a friend as well as a 
 countrywoman of his, he would very much like to 
 see her to assist her in any way he could, or, if
 
 190 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 this was not called for, just to give her the assur 
 ance of his good will. Would the Doctor kindly 
 help him to identify a lonely, suffering friend? 
 
 The Doctor listened patiently, and he replied 
 promptly, and to the point. 
 
 "My patient, I regret to say, sir, is very ill 
 indeed a bad case of typhoid fever. The crisis 
 is rapidly approaching, and it is impossible to say 
 positively yet what the outcome will be. I am 
 hopeful but she is very, very weak, and fre 
 quently delirious. I am sorry, but your seeing her 
 is quite out of the question quite! Also I can 
 not undertake to question her on the matter, or to 
 allow any one else to question her she is not fit 
 for it. She must be kept as quiet as possible it 
 is not too much to say that her very life depends 
 on this. I regret that I cannot help you, sir but 
 surely you see how it is?" 
 
 Seth nodded miserably. He tried to bear 
 unflinchingly the disappointment and additional 
 anxiety the Doctor's reply brought him, but it 
 was but a sorry effort. 
 
 "When. . . .if she should improve, Doctor," he 
 stammered, "will you assist me then?" 
 
 The Doctor paused before he gave his reply; 
 he appeared to be sympathetically touched by 
 Seth's concern. Looking straight before him, he 
 said very gently : 
 
 "Again I am sorry, sir, but I have no alternative 
 but to refuse you. You see, even in health, the
 
 A GLEAM OF HOPE 191 
 
 lady evidently had her own reasons for desiring 
 seclusion; and, as she is not in any need of assis 
 tance, I don't feel justified in taking advantage of 
 her present weakness and my confidential position 
 as her medical adviser to storm her privacy." 
 
 Seth stared at him in crushed silence. 
 
 "To storm her privacy," the Doctor repeated, 
 enforcing his point and filling up the pause, "on a 
 mere plea of a of a friend." 
 
 He turned his eyes keenly on Seth as he finished, 
 and Seth took a sudden resolution; he would tell 
 this man the truth the truth would make the 
 Doctor view the matter in a different light, and, 
 doubtless secure his help. The truth, therefore, he 
 should have. 
 
 "That is all, I suppose, sir," said the Doctor, 
 rising, "and my time is running out. Pray believe 
 that I am sincerely sorry that it is impossible for 
 me to meet your views. But, with all my good 
 will, my hands are tied, you see; my hands are 
 tied ! Good-morning." 
 
 Seth roused himself, sprang up, and seized the 
 Doctor's extended hand. 
 
 "No, it's not all, Doctor!" he cried in subdued 
 excitement. "Believe me, by no means all!" 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked the Doctor, with 
 frowning scrutiny, as he freed his hand from Seth's 
 close grasp. 
 
 "I mean that, so far, I have appealed to you 
 with a strong reservation," Seth went on earnestly,
 
 192 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "and now I want to appeal to you, with no reserva 
 tion at all!" He produced his card-case, and 
 offered the Doctor a card from it. Here's my 
 card, Doctor when can I see and talk to you 
 again of this? Pray let it be soon." 
 
 The Doctor took the card with a word of 
 thanks, glancing at it, and drawing out a capacious 
 pocket-book from the inner pocket of his frock- 
 coat, put it away. Before replacing the book he 
 abstracted from it one of his own cards, and, with 
 this in his hand, he turned again to Seth. 
 
 "Perhaps you will do me the honor of coming 
 to my place to dinner to-morrow evening at 5.30," 
 he remarked cordially. I am sorry I cannot ar 
 range an earlier time. We can then, however, 
 subject to calls of course, talk all the evening 
 far into the night, if you like. Will you come, 
 Mr. Lomack. 
 
 "With great pleasure. You are very, very 
 good, Doctor, and I feel deeply indebted to you. 
 I am aware that I have gone about this affair after 
 the manner of the proverbial bull in a china shop, 
 but, when a matter presses painfully upon your 
 heart, your impatience for relief numbs your sense 
 of tact. You understand and excuse me, I hope?" 
 
 "Quite so, quite so," responded the Doctor 
 quickly. "Not another word, Mr. Lomack ! Glad 
 you'll come. Bachelor quarters, you know, sir." 
 And again there was a humorous quiver of his 
 lips. "No formality."
 
 A GLEAM OF HOPE 193 
 
 "All the better for me, Doctor," returned the 
 relieved Seth; "I shall feel less uncomfortable 
 about intruding so unconventionally." 
 
 "Well, I'll send my trap around for you and 
 meanwhile here's my card." 
 
 "A thousand thanks, Doctor." 
 
 "Don't mention it. Good-day." 
 
 "Good-day." 
 
 They shook hands again, and the Doctor turned 
 away instantly and gained the shelter of his buggy 
 with his customary quickness, so at variance with 
 his drawling speech. Seth stared after him until 
 the buggy disappeared from view. 
 
 "Well, here's something at last," he sighed to 
 himself. "God grant it may not turn out some 
 thing harrowing! To find you and to lose you 
 again, Ethel, would be the sharpest cut of all. So 
 that brusque, dried-up little specimen of manhood 
 was a good sort after all. Good luck to you, 
 Dr " 
 
 Here his reflections came to a sudden pause, for 
 he did not know the Doctor's name. How funny 
 that he had never asked for it! And yet not 
 funny what was the strange little Doctor's name 
 to him? He only wanted information from him 
 of another, and, while he was in a position to lay 
 his hand on the man himself, what did the man's 
 name matter to him. Nothing nothing at all! 
 But, in the light of the Doctor's gracious proffer of 
 13
 
 194 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 hospitality and the coming interview, the subject 
 had a passing interest for Seth. He smoothed out 
 the Doctor's card, which he had unconsciously 
 crumpled up in his restless fingers while gazing 
 after the original, smoothed it out with repentent 
 care. 
 
 Dr. Noel Leeth.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ITS PROBING 
 
 "And you say you have not seen this lady for 
 seventeen years?" 
 
 Seth and Dr. Leeth were sitting in the latter's 
 veranda in the cool dusk of the evening. Dinner 
 was over, and they were now alternately smoking 
 and sipping something refreshing out of tall, ice- 
 packed tumblers. Seth was enjoying a good cigar 
 of the Doctor's providing, and the Doctor mused 
 over a cigarette a weakness of his, he never 
 smoked anything else. Seth had just concluded 
 his narrative of the strange disappearance of Ethel 
 Leon, and he had given it faithfully and min 
 utely down to the smallest detail. He had even 
 confessed the purely fanciful reason which had 
 directed his search towards the Carribean Isles. 
 The Doctor had listened to it all with a close 
 attention which did not for an instant waver, and 
 on Seth's conclusion had made this remark re 
 corded above. 
 
 "Yes, Doctor," returned Seth, "it is now seven 
 teen years, more than seventeen years, since I last 
 saw her. A long, long time, is it not? And yet, 
 it seems like yesterday!"
 
 196 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "Ah, I understand you. But it is a long time, 
 Mr. Lomack long enough to have effected many 
 marked changes. You last saw a woman of 
 of" 
 
 "Of thirty-one, Doctor." 
 
 "And now you are looking for a woman of " 
 
 "Forty-nine." 
 
 "Of forty-nine, with only a remembrance of 
 her in her prime to help you to identify her. A 
 difficult task, sir; I might almost add, a hopeless 
 one, if she chooses to oppose you." 
 
 "A difficult one, I grant," said Seth. "A hope 
 less one, I deny except she is dead. Do you 
 think, like the others, that she is dead, Doctor?" 
 
 The Doctor raised his glass to his lips, and took 
 a long drink. 
 
 "Impossible to say positively, of course," he 
 remarked softly, as he replaced the glass on the 
 table between them; "but it looks like it. You 
 feel sure she is living, Mr. Lomack?" 
 
 "Positive. And, if I am mistaken, I still mean 
 to find out how she died." 
 
 "Ah ! And so you really think you would know 
 her if you saw her?" 
 
 "I should know her," returned Seth stoutly, 
 "anywhere." 
 
 "Ah!" The Doctor, with this exclamation, 
 puffed away meditatively, with his eyes fixed upon 
 his strange guest. 
 
 The Doctor, without his smoke-colored pince-
 
 ITS PROBING 197 
 
 nez, which were always abandoned with the fading 
 of the daylight glare, looked much younger. He 
 still wore glasses, for his eyes were weak ; but now 
 you could see their shrewd, dark brightness. They 
 studied Seth keenly now, and Seth found them 
 vaguely disturbing. Did the Doctor distrust him ? 
 Think him an adventurer with a hidden motive ? 
 
 "But Miss Jones!" he suddenly pleaded. "Let 
 us talk of her now, Doctor. Have mercy on my 
 impatience!" 
 
 "Ah, yes! Well, Mr. Lomack, I frankly! 
 do not think that my patient at your hotel is your 
 sister-in-law. You see, knowing herself to be very 
 ill, she has confided several matters to me, in order 
 that I may deal with them for her in the event of 
 demise. Her confidences are, of course, sacred to 
 me absolutely sacred! But I think I may, with 
 out transgressing in any way, let you know that 
 they do not support your story. No, not at all 
 ... .not at all, Mr. Lomack." 
 
 Seth stirred uneasily. 
 
 "I am sorry, sir," the Doctor added, courteously 
 and sympathetically, "to disappoint you.' 
 
 "I shall not be satisfied until I see her!" cried 
 Seth dauntlessly. "Remember, Doctor, that I am 
 speaking of seventeen, eighteen, years ago a thou 
 sand occurrences may have altered her circum 
 stances, given her new responsibilities and ties; I 
 shall not be satisfied until I see her!" 
 
 "What you say is true," returned the Doctor
 
 198 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 slowly. "Still, Mr. Lomack, do not lean too 
 heavily on what is, after all, a mere bald supposi 
 tion. Your disappointment, of which I somehow 
 feel sure will be heavy; the crumbling of your 
 castle in the air will give you a serious shock. 
 You tell me you have recently been bereaved, you 
 have had a severe illness, and I can see for myself 
 that your nerves are still overstrained. Your 
 story has interested me deeply, has touched me 
 very much in fact. I can't help taking a friendly 
 and professional interest in you, Mr. Lomack, and 
 I would shield you and your wild hopes from the 
 chills of disillusionment where I can. Therefore, 
 I again repeat, on the strength of what I have 
 gathered from my patient, that I do not believe 
 that she is your sister-in-law. And I ask you not 
 to build upon it." 
 
 Seth's only comment was to cry once more : 
 
 "I shall not be satisfied until I see her!" 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 "And you will let me see her, won't you, Doc 
 tor?" Seth went on, with undiminished eagerness. 
 "Now that you know my plea to be founded on 
 something stronger and more sacred than idle, 
 good-natured friendship, you will let me see her 
 . . . .soon?" 
 
 The Doctor nodded. 
 
 "Thank you God bless you !" 
 
 The Doctor held up a warning hand. 
 
 "But I have conditions to impose," he said.
 
 ITS PROBING 199 
 
 "You shall see her subject to my conditions, Mr. 
 Lomack, you understand?" 
 
 "All right. Any you like, Doctor. Only let 
 me see her." 
 
 "I will let you see her," pursued the Doctor 
 quietly, "when I can do so without disturbing 
 her as soon as I can do so. When she is dozing, 
 for instance; I cannot have her startled or worried 
 yet. One look will be enough for you, I suppose?" 
 
 "Yes," breathed Seth. 
 
 "And now I have something disagreeable to 
 add, Mr. Lomack." 
 
 "Go on, Doctor. I forgive you beforehand." 
 
 Mr. Lomack, my patient is usually awake when 
 I call, and I desire to be present when you see 
 her I cannot direct the nurse to admit you to 
 her. I don't wish to offend you, and pray believe 
 that I don't doubt you, but I am taking a great deal 
 of responsibility upon myself in allowing you, a 
 stranger, to see Miss Jones at all, and I feel it 
 my duty my imperative duty, you understand 
 to be present." 
 
 "Certainly, certainly!" conceded Seth instantly. 
 
 "You will, therefore, have to await my time." 
 
 "I will willingly await your time, Doctor." 
 
 "Good! And in the event of the worst, Mr. 
 Lomack? we must take that into consideration 
 too, you know." 
 
 "Y-es," faltered Seth.
 
 200 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "You shall still see her your heart shall be set 
 at rest." 
 
 They shook hands upon it. 
 
 And now William broke in upon them with an 
 urgent message, and the Doctor was obliged to 
 make his excuses to his new-found friend. The 
 Doctor gave orders for his guest's comfortable 
 return, and Seth said good-night to him with a 
 grateful heart. 
 
 Several long days and longer nights went by, 
 however, before Dr. Leeth was in a position to 
 keep his promise to Seth. Meanwhile, they saw 
 each other, as before, twice daily. Sometimes the 
 Doctor had time to exchange a few brief words 
 with Seth, more often than not he could only pass 
 him with a nod. Miss Jones continued to hover 
 between life and death, and poor, anxious, wait 
 ing Seth still mechanically pursued his investiga 
 tions morning and evening mechanically, because 
 his conviction that Miss Jones was Ethel grew 
 stronger every day. At last one morning, after 
 his visit upstairs, Dr. Leeth approached Seth with 
 an ominously grave air. 
 
 "I am afraid, Mr. Lomack," he said, standing 
 up before him, and looking at his hands as he 
 spoke, "that I shall soon be able to make good my 
 promise to you under very sad circumstances. My 
 patient is decidedly worse. And I thought I was 
 going to win the day."
 
 ITS PROBING 201 
 
 He looked up now, just in time to see Seth wince, 
 and he stretched out a deprecating hand. 
 
 "Steady, Mr. Lomack, steady!" he remon 
 strated. "You know nothing yet, remember 
 absolutely nothing. And if you would be influenced 
 by me, you would not fear. At any rate, it's time 
 enough to cry out when we're hurt. Don't let 
 that restless imagination of yours gain a mastery 
 over you keep it under, or it may do you harm. 
 Good-morning." And before Seth could utter a 
 word, the Doctor was gone. 
 
 But Seth was waiting for him by the door when 
 he came down from his afternoon's visit, and he 
 looked the question which he had not the courage 
 to utter. 
 
 "Dying," said the Doctor, with a troubled 
 frown. 
 
 "Then I must see her!" cried Seth, seizing hold 
 of him. "Doctor, I insist upon it! She shall not 
 die before I see her." 
 
 "Who is 'she'?" asked the Doctor frigidly. 
 "You shall not disturb Miss Jones." 
 
 Seth drew back from him, chilled. 
 
 "Who is 'she'?" he stammered, helplessly. I 
 don't know. Ethel, perhaps Ethel, perhaps!" 
 
 The Doctor took his arm and drew him aside. 
 
 "Miss Jones is restlessly conscious just now, Mr. 
 Lomack," he said, more compassionately. "Even 
 were she your sister-in-law I dare not have her 
 startled. A shock would be well, must be
 
 202 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 avoided. While there is anything to work for I 
 am bound to protect it." 
 
 "But you have no hope," divined Seth, searching 
 his face. 
 
 "No, none now." 
 
 There was a momentary silence, and then the 
 Doctor added: 
 
 "But I am coming back to-night. I may be able 
 to do something for you then. Don't detain me 
 now." And he broke away and departed. 
 
 But the coming back that night was in one sense, 
 and that the main one, quite futile. 
 
 It brought his limitations home to Dr. Leeth in 
 a heavy manner. He did not remain very long 
 upstairs just long enough to receive his wounds 
 from our common, intangible enemy. When he 
 rejoined Seth in the latter's retired nook in a cor 
 ner of the veranda, it was easy to see that the man 
 had been hurt, and was suffering. He and Seth 
 had merely glanced at each other with silent in- 
 tentness Seth from his chair, the Doctor leaning 
 sideways on the veranda railing and the faces of 
 both whitened with a sense of shock. No word 
 passed between them, and yet it would seem that 
 a message had been transmitted. 
 
 "So she is dead," Seth said, in a hollow, emotion 
 less voice, as he left his chair and leaned on the 
 railing beside the Doctor. "Dead! And so 'past 
 hope, past care, past help' !" 
 
 "Yes."
 
 ITS PROBING 203 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "Three hours ago." 
 
 In the silence which followed they looked dully 
 at the other people dotted about the veranda and 
 chatting gaily, and here and there a bright, curious 
 glance was turned upon them in their secluded cor 
 ner. Then they looked at each other again, and 
 resumed their subdued colloquy. 
 
 "You might have let me see her!" Seth said 
 bitterly. 
 
 "I did not have a fair chance. I had to consider 
 her as well as you. Besides, what good could you 
 have done?" 
 
 "It would have been a satisfaction to me." 
 
 "I doubt it." 
 
 "Do you know, Doctor," Seth continued angrily, 
 "that if it is Ethel I shall find it hard almost im 
 possible to forgive you." 
 
 "Yes; I understand. Will you end it? Will 
 you come and see her. . . .now?" 
 
 The Doctor's voice was weary, the Doctor's face 
 was haggard and strained. His tired eyes had a 
 desperate, hunted look. A sudden queer tender 
 ness toward this odd, obstinate little man filled 
 Seth's breast. Instead of answering the Doctor's 
 question, he said to him, almost as tenderly as if 
 he were speaking to a woman : 
 
 "Are you tired, Doctor?" 
 
 "Yes, very," was the low reply. "And heavy- 
 hearted too ! You don't know what it means to
 
 2O4 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 us to lose a case a case which encompasses a 
 human life; only we doctors and lawyers know 
 what that is, and the sting of it. I fought so hard 
 for this one." 
 
 "I am sure you did." 
 
 "And I thought I thought I was going to win 
 the day. . . .until this morning." 
 
 "Yes; you said so." 
 
 The Doctor passed his hands restlessly over his 
 face. 
 
 "Well," he said, "will you come and look at her 
 now and be done with it?" 
 
 "Yes," returned Seth, slowly and shrinkingly. 
 
 They went away, arm in arm, followed by many 
 of those same bright, curious glances, with a laugh 
 ing, beguiling suggestion thrown in here and there, 
 to which they only gave an absent smile and shake 
 of the head. Both these men were popular at the 
 hotel, in spite of their unsociability; and this said 
 much for the subtle charm of their individuality. 
 One pretty American girl, bubbling over with 
 thoughtless health and spirits, called out, in the 
 innocent audacity of her sunny youth : 
 
 "So you're consulting a doctor at last, Mr. 
 Lomack! He's malingering, isn't he, Doctor? 
 But do dose some spirit into him to join our picnic 
 to-morrow I've set my heart on his escort"." 
 
 They managed to laugh at her merry words, 
 but her father interrupted with : 
 
 "Silence, Madcap !" And then added, out of
 
 ITS PROBING 205 
 
 his deeper insight, "Your patient is no worse I 
 hope, Doctor?" 
 
 The Doctor left Seth, and went up to his ques 
 tioner. 
 
 "She died this afternoon," he whispered, and 
 immediately rejoined Seth, and disappeared up 
 stairs. 
 
 "Is Mr. Lomack really ill?" the merry girl 
 cried, turning to her father, who had suddenly 
 grown so grave. 
 
 "No, I don't think so, dear. He has been, you 
 know; but, if we're to judge by looks, he's getting 
 on famously." 
 
 "Then why did you ask the Doctor about him?" 
 
 "I asked him about the poor lady, Sweetheart," 
 her father returned, with that great tenderness 
 which we all feel for each other in the presence of 
 our common lot. 
 
 "But, Mr. Lomack and he seem to be consult- 
 ing?" 
 
 "Well, little girl, Mr. Lomack fancied he knew 
 the poor sick lady, and they may have gone off to 
 see. She she died this afternoon, poor soul!" 
 
 A hush fell upon the laughing, chattering group, 
 the subdued obeisance which Death commands 
 from Life. The pretty, impulsive girl said : 
 
 "Oh, I'm real, real sorry!" and youth's ready 
 tears came into her bright eyes; but hers was the 
 only voice to break in on that impressive silence. 
 
 Meanwhile, Dr. Leeth and Seth had gained the
 
 206 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 death-chamber, tenanted now only by the dead. 
 Dr. Leeth sat down by a table in one of the 
 darkened windows, and let his weary head rest 
 upon his arms. 
 
 Seth walked over to the bed, and stood there, 
 at its head, looking down at the covered form. 
 He did not want to move; he did not want to 
 think, he could not, just then, feel. He only dully 
 desired to remain exactly as he was. So the min 
 utes flew by, and he did not disturb the covering 
 over the face, but stupidly stood by the bedhead, 
 gazing patiently, without sense or reason, at the 
 flimsy screening sheet. Dr. Leeth raised his head 
 once or twice to see if Seth had looked upon the 
 dead woman, and dropped it again, on catching 
 sight of that impassive figure. At length he ven 
 tured to remonstrate. 
 
 "Come, come, Mr. Lomack!" he whispered. 
 "I'm dead beat, and must get home and rest." 
 
 Seth started violently, and rubbed his hands over 
 his face, as if awakened from a dream. 
 
 "I I beg your pardon, Doctor," he stammered. 
 "I don't know what I'm thinking of!" 
 . He stooped, and, with a very gentle, awed, and 
 unsteady hand, uncovered the face of the dead. 
 He gazed at it with reverent scrutiny. How 
 wondrously calm and restful! To wish to recall 
 her to life seemed a blasphemy in that majestic 
 presence. He was fascinated by her perfect still 
 ness and the thoughts which it inspired. All her
 
 ITS PROBING 2O7 
 
 poor, restless, human strivings were over; all her 
 pain and despair; all the racking reaction of life's 
 transient joys! She was peacefully, regally at 
 rest. He felt a sudden pang of envy in his keen 
 consciousness of her marvelous placidity. Hope, 
 that elusive element, without which we could not, 
 or zvould not, live why, she was even beyond and 
 above hope ! His soul cried out for some form 
 of leave-taking before he turned away from her 
 forever. He obeyed the impulse, but with a due 
 sense of her peculiar grandeur and his comparative 
 humbleness. He timidly touched the silver- 
 streaked masses of her luxuriant dark hair, and 
 caressed the dark fringe of her eye-lids with light, 
 lingering fingers. A noble soul had taken wing 
 the poor human casket plainly bore its impress. 
 He laid his warm living hand upon her cool dead 
 ones, as they lay crossed upon her quiet breast, and 
 pressed them gently. Then he replaced the cover 
 ing, and stepped softly to the Doctor's side. 
 
 Was the Doctor sleeping? His face was quite 
 hidden now, and he did not stir. His glasses lay 
 on the table beside him. Seth looked down at him 
 curiously, and again, as he looked, a queer tender 
 ness filled him. 
 
 "Poor little man," he thought. "I'm sure he 
 fought hard to keep her here I'm sure he has not 
 been defeated without a wound or two. I expect 
 they're smarting him now." 
 
 He touched him softly on the shoulder. The
 
 208 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 Doctor stirred now, but languidly, and looked up 
 with heavy eyes. He had dozed, and the brief 
 rest seemed not to have refreshed him, only to 
 have accentuated his haggard weariness. 
 
 "Well?" he asked, with a smothered yawn, and 
 beginning to rub his eyes. "Have you anything 
 to forgive me?" 
 
 Seth did not immediately answer, and the Doctor 
 adjusted his glasses, and rose and repeated his 
 question. 
 
 "N-o," Seth said, at length, half dazedly, in re 
 luctant response to the Doctor's sharply inquiring 
 gaze; "n-o. Nothing to forgive you. You've 
 you've been very patient with me, Doctor, and I 
 thank you." He roused himself to do so with 
 difficulty. 
 
 "We've got to be patient, you know," the Doc 
 tor quickly returned, "or drop it." 
 
 "Your your profession, you mean?" 
 
 "Yes, my profession. Well, I'm glad you've 
 nothing to forgive me, Mr. Lomack. She was a 
 stranger to you, as I surmised?" 
 
 "Yes," said Seth, exactly as before. "She was 
 ... .of course a stranger to me!"
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 WIZARD'S WORK 
 
 Seth's intercourse with Dr. Leeth did not end, 
 or even fall off, with the death of the latter's mys 
 terious patient, Miss Jones. There was a mutual 
 strong sense of attraction, which not only made 
 itself felt, but which extorted a certain amount of 
 consideration and concession on either side. 
 Chance had introduced them to each other, and 
 now it seemed that Fate willed that the casual 
 acquaintanceship be sealed. They parted on the 
 day of the death, knowing that the bond which had 
 drawn them together was hopelessly severed, and 
 that according to the usual course of things they 
 would now drop out of each other's life, and yet 
 they did not say good-bye. They were both 
 courteous men, even punctiliously so; yet they 
 parted, seemingly for the last time, certainly with 
 out definite arrangements for meeting again, with 
 out any form of leave taking whatever. Perhaps 
 they did not want to say good-bye, did not mean to 
 do so ; be that as it may, they certainly went their 
 separate ways in silence. 
 
 But it came about, as time went on, that Seth was 
 invited every now and then to the Doctor's house, 
 14
 
 210 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 and duly entertained him at the hotel in return. 
 Sometimes the doctor had different prominent and 
 interesting people in the island to meet him, more 
 often they spent a delightful evening, smoking and 
 drinking, and idly talking, or silently dreaming, 
 alone. Seth early took advantage of one of these 
 latter occasions to plead with the Doctor again to 
 help him in his further search for Ethel. 
 
 "Doctor," he began, "you've been in practice 
 here a very long time, I suppose?" 
 
 "Yes. A good number of years." 
 
 "A native of this charming spot, I guess?" 
 
 "Not of this island." 
 
 "Ah! I suppose they talk pretty much alike 
 throughout the other islands, eh?" 
 
 "Throughout the English islands, yes! Their 
 brogue isn't pretty, is it?" 
 
 "Well, it's too much like our twang for me to 
 feel inclined to criticise it." 
 
 "Yet you would never have mistaken me for an 
 American, would you?" asked the Doctor. 
 
 "No ; you're an out and out West Indian." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 "And I guess you're proud of it," added Seth, 
 quickly, fearing that the Doctor's brief thanks had 
 been somewhat sarcastic, and that he himself had 
 been unduly personal. 
 
 "Of being recognized as a West Indian? oh, 
 immensely!" 
 
 And now there was no reservation of manner in
 
 WIZZARDS WORK 211 
 
 which to fear any hidden sarcasm, for the Doctor 
 most thoroughly and genuinely looked it. 
 
 There was a momentary silence. 
 
 "You must know pretty well every one in the 
 island by now, Doctor?" Seth insinuatingly re 
 sumed, coming rapidly to his point. 
 
 "Well, I don't know that I can say that," drawl 
 ed the Doctor; "but, naturally, I know a good 
 many." 
 
 "I wonder if you would mind doing me a great 
 favour?" 
 
 "Not at all." 
 
 "Well, will you help me in my further investiga 
 tions here? From your long-standing and wide 
 acquaintance, you can, no doubt, give me much 
 valuable information. I know I've got a lot of 
 nerve to ask it of you, but I'm a desperate man, 
 Doctor, and desperate men are bold. Will you?" 
 
 "Why, Mr. Lomack," smiled the Doctor, and 
 instantly fixing Seth's attention, "I've no objection 
 to help you but you are wasting your time and 
 energy, I am sure! We might make out a few 
 dozen suspicious cases of hiding here, and conjure 
 up a likeness between them and your sister-in- 
 law's it would be so easy! But I think the 
 sooner you let yourself be discouraged and drop the 
 matter, the better." 
 
 "I am growing discouraged already, Doctor," 
 admitted Seth; "but, as to dropping it, that's an 
 other matter. I'll not drop it until I know more
 
 212 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 than I know now by Heaven I won't! So, if 
 you'll be so good, let's hear some of the cases we 
 might make out." 
 
 It was a moon-light night the superb moon 
 light of the tropics. Both the Doctor and Seth 
 looked pale in it the Doctor, frowningly, wearied- 
 ly so, Seth alertly and obstinately so. They looked 
 at each other thus in the pause which ensued. 
 
 "Such men as you make mischief, you know, Mr. 
 Lomack," the Doctor observed. 
 
 "I dare say we do but your cases, Doctor, your 
 cases !" 
 
 "Well," returned the Doctor, humoring him, 
 "there is, to begin with, a single lady of mature 
 years, with undoubtedly an interesting history be 
 hind her, living in seclusion at a place called 'Seclu 
 sion ;' then there's a nurse, whose description tallies 
 with your sister-in-law's, who appeared in the is 
 land some years ago, proved herself most capable, 
 but whose lips are most irritatingly sealed as to 
 her antecedents. Then there's another lady living 
 by herself in Bathsheba, a lady in broken health, 
 whose reserve about herself is really quite phe 
 nomenal; but a whisper has gone abroad, from 
 whence no one knows, that, again like your sister- 
 in-law, she was a lady-doctor; then but I think 
 that will do for the present, eh? All these people, 
 Mr. Lomack, hail from your dear United States." 
 
 "You will introduce me to them, Doctor?" Seth 
 cried swiftly, his imagination firing instantly.
 
 WIZZARD'S WORK 213 
 
 "Ah, I am afraid I cannot promise that! But 
 I might contrive for you to see them if it would 
 be a satisfaction to you." 
 
 "It would indeed!" 
 
 "Very well, then, I'll do my best." 
 
 "But you'll be patient, Mr. Lomack?" 
 
 "As a saint, Doctor." 
 
 But none of these people proved alas ! to be 
 Ethel, nor any of those afterward suggested. Seth 
 felt that he had pretty well exhausted Barbados, 
 and that he ought to push on to one of the other 
 islands. Yet he was reluctant to leave "Little 
 England," for very, very subtly another considera 
 tion had grown up on him which surpised him very 
 much, and about which there was an irritating 
 amount of puzzling uncertainty. Just what this 
 consideration was Seth did not acknowledge even 
 to himself. It was all so unaccountable that it 
 was no use thinking about it. Certainly he had 
 met some very interesting and agreeable people 
 since he had come to Little England, people who 
 had roused and strongly captivated him. There 
 were jolly Charlie Sand and his dainty wife, who 
 reminded him of his own lost Etta ; the sturdy old 
 nonagenarian, Dr. Acre, with his ideas and tastes 
 of another age, and his most engrossing fund of 
 old-time anecdotes. You felt it was a desecration 
 that, in order to escape the boy in the street he 
 should be condemned to the hideous commonplace- 
 ness of the modern dress, he was so suggestive of
 
 214 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 a powdered queue, knee-breeches, and lace ruffles, 
 and buckled shoes. There were witty Lawyer 
 Barker and his amusingly talkative wife; breezy 
 officers from the barracks; mysterious diplomats 
 from Government House ; some striking women 
 yes, the Doctor's circle of friends, if not large, was 
 unquestionably strong in point of entertainment. 
 They were all personalities, distinctly memorable 
 types; and the unsociably inclined, uningratiating, 
 but perversely attractive Doctor, entertained and 
 entertaining more often than not against his will, 
 was, perhaps, the most notable member of the al 
 luring group. These people received Seth into 
 their midst with the utmost cordiality, and had 
 quickly made him feel one of them. He was proud 
 of it, quite happy in it. He was loathe to leave 
 that merry, genial, uncommon circle, and the 
 pretty, summery, health-giving spot; it was an 
 ideal place, and they were ideal people, under 
 which to snuffle off life's strain and efforts, and 
 dream on until the appointed time. He had to 
 remind himself fiercely that he had not done with 
 all life's ambitions, that he had sworn to himself 
 to stand or fall by one most dear which Fate had 
 assigned to him. Still, he caught himself thinking 
 distastefully of those further unexplored bournes 
 to which Duty beckoned him, and had a cowardly 
 longing to linger on in his soft, sunny, flower- 
 decked nest, with these strangely charming speci 
 mens of the world's humanity fluttering about him.
 
 WIZZARDS WORK 215 
 
 How had it all come about? He couldn't say. 
 What had become of his old resolution and energy? 
 He didn't know. They were not dying, surely? 
 Oh, no, no ! It was impossible ! Ethel ! He 
 wanted her as keenly as ever. . . .only only the 
 place and the people had bewitched him! He 
 would shake off the spell and go. But it was 
 easier said than done. So Seth compromised 
 matters with his conscience by taking short trips to 
 the other islands, backed by letters of introduction, 
 which the Doctor, bluntly stigmatizing the whole 
 thing as a fool's errand, reluctantly procured for 
 him. Seth always returned to Barbados, faith 
 fully and happily, and reported progress, in every 
 detail, to his unsympathizing friend, the Doctor. 
 There was never anything to report ; the apparent 
 clues all ended like the first, in a mare's nest, and 
 Seth's progress was his progress through the 
 islands that was all. 
 
 On one of these occasions, while sitting in the 
 Doctor's veranda, Seth remarked thoughtfully: 
 
 "I hope I don't bore you, Doctor?" 
 
 The Doctor was lighting a cigarette, and he 
 finished doing so, and tossed the match lightly 
 away before he answered. The cordiality of his 
 reply, however, covered that first disconcerting 
 pause. 
 
 "By no means, Mr. Lomack. I enjoy your 
 society it is a very pleasant break in my usual
 
 2l6 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 monotonous round. I only wish you would give 
 up your useless trips and let us see more of you." 
 
 "Ah! You are very good-natured, Doctor. 
 But I can't give up my trips. . . .yet." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 They looked at each other curiously, and Seth 
 hurriedly and irrelevantly said: 
 
 "There's a bond of sympathy between us, Doc 
 tor, I am sure. I feel it but I can't explain it. I 
 expect it is that we've both suffered and lost in the 
 past, and we unconsciously bear the mark of it on 
 our persons and in our manner, and it has insen 
 sibly drawn us together. Eh?" 
 
 "No doubt," returned the Doctor, turning to his 
 glass for consolation. 
 
 "You are conscious of it, too, Doctor?" 
 
 "Yes, I am conscious of it, too." 
 
 "And it is rather unusual, considering the cir 
 cumstances, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes, it is rather unusual between. . . .strangers. 
 We felt it from the first, didn't we?" 
 
 "No," returned Seth bluntly. "I was angry, 
 and sore, and disgusted with you at our first inter 
 view." 
 
 "Ah! I remember!" the Doctor spoke dreamily. 
 "Yes, I was. . . .obliged to be rude to you." 
 
 "But I felt it at our second interview almost 
 at once." 
 
 "Yes?"
 
 WIZZARD S WORK 217 
 
 "May I ask you a very personal question, Doc 
 tor? With the excuse that it is not idle curiosity 
 but genuine interest?" 
 
 "Go on." 
 
 "Is your heart, too, buried in a grave?" 
 
 The Doctor puffed away silently for some 
 moments, gazing straight in front of him. 
 
 "Yes," he drawled at length subduedly, "my 
 heart, too, is buried in a grave." 
 
 "Ah, I thought so ! But, still, you are better off 
 than I am, Doctor." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "Why, you are an old bachelor, aren't you?" 
 
 The Doctor turned his head aside. 
 
 "Yes," he yawned, with his hand to his mouth. 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well, to lose her beforehand must be hard, 
 bitter hard; but it is harder, I think, to lose her 
 . . . .afterwards!" 
 
 The Doctor suddenly leaned across the table 
 between them, and laid his hand gently on Seth's 
 shoulder. 
 
 "How cynics would laugh at you !" he said 
 wonderingly, admiringly. 
 
 "Yes; I suppose they would." 
 
 "They would indeed!" returned the Doctor, re 
 lapsing into his former attitude. "But it would, 
 after all, be a laugh of envy, poor devils ! You 
 could afford to let it pass." 
 
 "Did you lose her suddenly?" Seth asked softly.
 
 2 1 8 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "Lose whom?" absently queried the abstracted 
 Doctor. 
 
 "Why, the lady who was all the world to you?" 
 
 "Oh! I fear you have been jumping to conclu 
 sions, Mr. Lomack, like a woman. And yet, con 
 sidering the circumstances, it is a most natural sup 
 position on your part." 
 
 "I beg your pardon." 
 
 "Please don't!" retorted the Doctor promptly. 
 "I am, Mr. Lomack, as you have, no doubt, heard 
 these people about me say, a wierd person and 
 can do nothing like any one else. No woman was 
 ever 'all the world' to me." 
 
 Seth could think of nothing to say; he could 
 only continue to gaze at the Doctor questioningly. 
 
 "My heart," continued the latter, "was buried in 
 a in a boy's grave." 
 
 He turned to raise his glass to his lips, and was 
 struck by Seth's intent gaze. 
 
 "It happened a long time ago," he added ner 
 vously. 
 
 Still Seth did not speak. 
 
 "But man, woman, or or child," he stumbled 
 on, "it's still a bond of sympathy, isn't it, Mr. Lo 
 mack?" 
 
 Seth stretched out his hand. The Doctor took 
 it, and immediately asked : 
 
 "Is anything the matter, Mr. Lomack?" 
 
 "Yey I mean, no!" stammered his guest. "I
 
 WIZZARD S WORK 219 
 
 don't feel up to the mark, in fact, and think I'll 
 go home." 
 
 "Tired, I expect," remarked the Doctor readily. 
 Yes, go home and rest, and I'll come and see you 
 to-morrow. Good-night." 
 
 "A boy's grave," Seth ruminated, as he returned 
 to the hotel. "A nephew?.... a little brother? 
 . . . .perhaps the adopted child of an old love? 
 I can't tell can't make it out. A lonely sadden? d, 
 introspective old man for a boy's grave ! What 
 a rum little chap he is ! It's only puzzling like all 
 the rest of it. But he's mighty attractive some 
 how. I'll bet the history of his life is worth hear 
 ing. . . .but he isn't the man to tell it easily, I 
 can see that! Perhaps one of his friends would 
 tell it for him, or give me an outline, that I may 
 get nearer to him. I'd like to .... I don't know 
 why. . . .but I'd like to! I declare I'm growing 
 a regular interfering Fanny ! One of the evil 
 results of mooning here in idleness, I suppose 
 but it's so d n pleasant I can't tear myself away. 
 Old Dr. Acre would know about him, or Charlie 
 Sand they're real chums, Charlie and the Doctor, 
 I can see." 
 
 The next night brought a typical West Indian 
 thunderstorm, and the guests thought it prudent 
 to retire from the veranda. Dr. Leeth and Seth 
 followed the others indoors without enthusiasm, 
 the public rooms, with their concentrated buzz of
 
 220 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 conversation, not appealing to either of them. 
 Seth, after a bored look around, said suddenly: 
 
 "Come to my room, Doctor." And the Doc 
 tor followed him upstairs with alacrity. 
 
 Seth's room was large, and lofty, and airy, and 
 boasted of an inviting lounge and a couple of com 
 fortable easy-chairs. 
 
 "Sit down, Doctor, and make yourself at 
 home!" cried Seth, pushing forward one of the 
 easy-chairs. 
 
 Before sitting down, however, the Doctor 
 strolled over to examine the photographs on the 
 dressing-table and table. There were not many, 
 but saying, with a smile, that he never could resist 
 looking over photographs, and that he hoped Seth 
 didn't mind, the Doctor, with his host's cordial as 
 sent, examined them all, one by one, eagerly and 
 long. Meanwhile, Seth ordered some refreshments 
 to be brought up to them. When he rejoined the 
 Doctor the latter held a large photograph of Etta, 
 which he had taken from the center of the dressing- 
 table, in his hand. It was the first he had taken 
 up, and he returned to it after his tour of inspec 
 tion. 
 
 "Your wife, I presume?" he now said. 
 
 Seth nodded. 
 
 "Is this a recent one?" 
 
 "Yes; about a month before." 
 
 "How young and happy she looks !"
 
 WIZZARD'S WORK 221 
 
 "She always did. Even in death. And besides 
 she was young only 37." 
 
 "Ah ! but she by no means looks even that." 
 
 "No; she was a wonderful little fairy time 
 dealt her no little unkindnesses as he does to us 
 less favored mortals; he, lightly and lovingly 
 passed her over." 
 
 "Ah ! She didn't suffer, did she, Mr. Lomack?" 
 
 "No. She died suddenly and painlessly, thank 
 God!" 
 
 "Heart disease?" queried the Doctor gently. 
 
 "Yes; heart disease." 
 
 The Doctor replaced the photograph carefully. 
 
 "The picture on the right is my mother," Seth 
 continued. "I lost her, of course, some time ago." 
 
 The Doctor gave the counterfeit presentment of 
 that genial old soul a kindly glance. 
 
 "She just looks one of the sweetest mothers in 
 the world!" he said, cordially. 
 
 "And so she was." 
 
 The Doctor was turning away, but Seth detained 
 him. 
 
 "And this, Doctor," he cried, taking up the re 
 maining photograph on the left, and handing it to 
 his guest, "is Ethel 1" 
 
 It was a cabinet photograph, head and should 
 ers only, taken in profile, and it represented a 
 young woman of about seven and twenty, with a 
 strong, clever face much too characteristically 
 strong and clever for beauty. As the Doctor took
 
 222 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 the picture and bent his head to examine it again, 
 a blinding flash of lightning filled the room. It 
 struck somewhere near by, for it was almost si 
 multaneously followed by a terrific clap of thunder, 
 which shook the house like a reed, and left the two 
 men dazed and blinking. 
 
 "Great Scott ! That was a narrow shave, wasn't 
 it?" exclaimed the Doctor. He put Ethel's like 
 ness down, and turned to look at his strangely silent 
 companion. 
 
 Seth was white and trembling. The Doctor 
 crossed over to him, and made him sit down. 
 
 "Why, you're not hurt, are you, Mr. Lomack?" 
 he asked quietly, yet with an underlying anxiety. 
 
 "No o," stammered Seth. "No, not at all. 
 It's it's only the shock, you know. I think I 
 must be going crazy." 
 
 "Ah, those nerves of yours are in a nasty state." 
 
 "Well, can you wonder at it, Doctor?" 
 
 "No, of course not! Ah, here come the drinks ! 
 Let me mix you one." Which he did, and Seth 
 eagerly accepted it. 
 
 "Now," resumed the Doctor, helping himself, 
 and taking a chair, "why didn't you show that 
 photograph of your sister-in-law in pursuing your 
 investigations?" 
 
 "To tell you the truth," returned Seth hurriedly, 
 "I thought it would be misleading. It was taken 
 so long ago she always hated being photo 
 graphed; and it is only a side view, which one
 
 WIZZARD'S WORK 223 
 
 does not often catch. I thought it better to rely 
 on my conception of the girl I knew so intimately, 
 as a woman of fifty." 
 
 "Well, perhaps you are right." 
 
 "Those those other photographs on the table," 
 pursued Seth, still a little hurriedly, "are my 
 mother-in-law and her husband, and my wife's 
 twin sister. They are recent likenesses too, and 
 good ones." 
 
 The Doctor glanced at them from where he sat, 
 and remarked that the twins, though both so 
 pretty, were not at all alike. 
 
 "Not in the least," said Seth. 
 
 "And they seem to have inherited their youthful 
 looks from their mother," went on the Doctor. 
 "She looks more like another sister than the pa 
 rent." 
 
 "Yes; she's very young looking." 
 
 "And though unalike," the Doctor continued, 
 "both daughters have a look of her." 
 
 "Yes; Addie has her coloring, and Etta had 
 her features." 
 
 "They are all well, I hope, Mr. Lomack?" con 
 cluded the Doctor, lighting a cigarette. 
 
 "Yes, thank you... when I last heard....! 
 don't hear very often." 
 
 After a long pause the Doctor cleared his throat, 
 and, breaking the awkward silence, asked if they, 
 too, worried about the missing woman.
 
 224 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "N o," replied Seth dreamily, "I think they 
 have forgotten her!" 
 
 They raised their glasses simultaneously. 
 
 "But / shall never forget her!" Seth added irrel 
 evantly as they put their glasses down. 
 
 "Forget whom?" 
 
 "Ethel." 
 
 "No; it's rather a pity you can't, I think." 
 
 "If I never find her," Seth seemed compelled to 
 go on with the subject, "I shall still be glad aw 
 fully glad !" Seth's face was becoming irradi 
 ated "that I tried. I wouldn't have missed try 
 ing, Doctor, for the world!"
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 WOODLANDS 
 
 Subtly, very subtly, Seth's trips to the other 
 islands grew briefer and briefer, and longer and 
 longer between. He seemed to set about them per 
 functorily, and be glad to get them off his mind. 
 Was he losing all hope at last? It was hard to 
 say, fojr he continued not to acknowledge what he 
 felt even to himself. Certainly the search, if it did 
 rather hang fire, was never entirely abandoned. 
 The Doctor said this was purely because of Seth's 
 pride, not because of his convictions; and Seth let 
 this assertion pass with no other comment than that 
 of an enigmatical smile. In his communications 
 home Seth assured his people that the Ethel-hunt 
 was still in progress through the islands; but that 
 he intended for the future to make Barbadoes his 
 headquarters, as the place suited him splendidly, 
 and he had got into a most fascinating set. For 
 Seth had strengthened his acquaintance with the 
 Doctor's cronies, until he was quite independent of 
 the Doctor's introduction to their houses, and 
 could visit them with an assured welcome on his 
 own account whenever he so minded. 
 
 But he never succeeded in gathering from them 
 15
 
 226 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 any important particulars about the Doctor who 
 so pleasantly filled his thoughts. Perhaps they had 
 nothing to tell, or perhaps, being cautious men of 
 the world, they were chary of giving information 
 which they had no authority to give. However 
 this was, Seth only heard of Dr. Leeth's goodness 
 and popularity, and that he had come to the island 
 many years ago. With this he found he would 
 have to be content. 
 
 Dr. Leeth frequently gave afternoon parties to 
 his little patients, when the usual quietude of his 
 pretty grounds and fine old house would be trans 
 formed and both would resound with childish 
 chatter, pranks, and laughter. The Doctor was 
 in his element then, and joined in all their sports 
 with enthusiasm. Indeed he made a famous leader, 
 and was as much transformed from his ordinary 
 bearing as the house and grounds themselves. It 
 was the only bit of sociability he could really be 
 said to enjoy. And he always took care to have 
 some one at hand a capable representative to 
 fall into his shoes as master of ceremonies should 
 he be called away, so that the fun was never al 
 lowed to flag. Seth, when he was in the island, was 
 first among the volunteers for this service. Thus 
 it was that no treat was more coveted by the tots 
 of "Little England" than a visit to "Woodlands," 
 and the queer, dried-up, brusque little Doctor was 
 their acknowledged hero. Somehow the games at 
 "Woodlands" always provoked more merriment
 
 WOODLANDS 22y 
 
 than anywhere else; the refreshments always tasted 
 sweeter; and these over, and while the guests were 
 cooling their flushed, happy little selves in the ver 
 anda preparatory to returning home, the Doctor 
 would tell them story after story and certainly 
 no one could tell a story better than he, or in any 
 way like him. 
 
 "Now, the undisputed queen of these little men 
 and women was a certain Nellie Darling, or Lala, 
 as she had styled herself as soon as speech was pos 
 sible. Lala was a diminutive maiden of four sum 
 mers, with a pretty little head of tight black curls, 
 wicked little black eyes, and a delicious mouth, set 
 in the fairest of pink baby faces. Lala was alto 
 gether distractingly bewitching and lovable, but as 
 wilful and naughty, and as healthily human, as the 
 fondest mother could wish. Lala had a nurse, one 
 of her most devoted slaves, a neat black woman, 
 who was grandiloquently styled Princess Ward. 
 The blacks have a great weakness for fine names, 
 or I should say for names which they consider fine. 
 Of course, Lala was in great demand at all child 
 ish festivities; and it must be admitted that, for 
 all her charm, she could be occasionally very dis 
 concerting. For, being at heart an honest little 
 soul, she would no sooner begin to feel bored than 
 she would plaintively remark to those about her: 
 
 "I wis' P'incess Ward would turn for me !" And 
 sigh out of all proportion to her tiny form. 
 
 This was not polite behavior, to say the least of
 
 228 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 it though it extorted from Lala's least indulgent 
 hostess a reluctant smile. 
 
 But Lala never said, "I wish P'incess Ward 
 would turn for me," when she was at "Wood 
 lands" ; on the contrary, she would then greet that 
 faithful creature's coming with icy dignity, and 
 loftily ask, "Why have you turn, P'incess Ward. 
 I don't want you! Fse not ready. Go away!" 
 And it would require the exercise of no little tact 
 on the Doctor's part to make her see the duty of 
 returning, at least temporarily, to her mother's 
 roof. For the Doctor had always to promise much 
 future hospitality. 
 
 "All wite !" she would at length concede. "But 
 oh, I wis' muvver and me lived here wis 'oo !" 
 Which speech would create keen amusement and 
 much subdued comment among the assembled 
 nurses and elder guests; for the gossip of the 
 island had long coupled the Doctor's name with 
 the pretty little widow's but no one laughed at 
 this more heartily than the Doctor himself. And 
 that was not encouraging to the romantic. Still, 
 he was unquestionably fond of going to "Harmony 
 Lodge," Mrs. Darling's modest little home, and 
 spent many a pleasant hour there chatting to its 
 inmates so many times that the lonely and poor 
 little widow herself often wondered wistfully 
 whether he would eventually marry her. She 
 secretly hoped so; for she was very, very lonely, 
 and rather needy, and the prosperous Doctor was a
 
 WOODLANDS 229 
 
 congenial and desirable companion, whom she liked 
 and, trusted, and looked up to. She gave him a 
 good deal of very delicate encouragement, but the 
 Doctor seemed queerly dense upon the theme, and 
 their cordial friendship, while it suffered no back 
 sliding, seemed incapable of expanding into any 
 thing more satisfactory. I am afraid the child 
 was really the attraction to the Doctor. Lala had 
 completely won Dr. Leeth's heart at the first inter 
 view, though it must be allowed that it was a very 
 susceptible heart to little children. When he first 
 saw her she was running away from her nurse, who 
 had been commanded to bring her before him ; and 
 she fell heavily on the gravel walk, just in front 
 of the veranda where he stood. It was a severe 
 fall, and it bruised to bleeding the tiny hands and 
 wrists; but she was up in an instant, and, shaking 
 the nurse's hand from her shoulder, covered her 
 defeat by putting those tell-tale hands behind her 
 and saying to the Doctor with a tremulous smile, 
 behind which lurked the repressed tears: 
 
 "I mos' pan down, didn't I?" 
 
 The Doctor took to the brave little soul at 
 once; and, easily making friends with her, was 
 permitted presently to dress the little hands and 
 wrists, and to look down the little throat, to which 
 end he had been summoned. From that day Lala 
 and the Doctor were sworn allies. 
 
 Lala's method of showing her affection was to 
 climb on the object's knee and coaxingly query:
 
 230 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "You want me to nass (nurse) you?" Which 
 feat she considered admirably accomplished by the 
 bestowal of sundry caresses. Naturally, they were 
 never declined. Indeed, far from being declined, 
 the recipients would grow insatiable, and then Lala 
 would rebel. The Doctor was one of the biggest 
 sinners in this respect, but Lala's gentle little 
 mother, whose rather anxious and careworn counte 
 nance was pathetically like Lala's gay one, would 
 never permit the small martinet to snub her kind 
 friend. 
 
 "Nellie! Don't you hear the Doctor calling 
 you? Go to him at once, child." 
 
 "My dacious, muvver! I've just been and 
 nassed him, and now he wants me again ! What 
 is it, mis'able Doctor?" as she climbed again upon 
 his knee. 
 
 Lala's lessons were another source of amuse 
 ment to her numerous friends. Lala was made to 
 learn pieces of poetry and recite them, and these 
 pieces of hers were in great demand; for Lala 
 made the most comical jumble of them imaginable, 
 and kept her audience in roars of laughter. She 
 put in a line just as it occurred to her, without 
 troubling her head as to whether it belonged to 
 the verse she was repeating; and as she was never 
 at a loss for a line, only seldom got hold of it in its 
 proper place, the result may be fancied. It was 
 hugely mirth-provoking to her own entire satis 
 faction. The Doctor's favorite among her pieces
 
 WOODLANDS 23 1 
 
 was "The Sluggard." He made her recite it to 
 Seth one afternoon, after one of his child-parties, 
 as they all sat together in the veranda, cooling off 
 from their happy romps. 
 
 This is a faithful rendering of it as Lala gave 
 it; and let me here say that Lala was no dream- 
 child; she was flesh and blood once. 
 
 "THE TUGGARD 
 
 " 'Twas the voice of the tuggard, I ha'ad him complain, 
 'You have waked me too toon, I must tumber again.' 
 As the door on its hinges so he on his bed 
 Hey ta'ans his side an' his shoulders, an' his heavy head. 
 
 " 'A little more teep an' a little more tumber, 
 Thus he wastes all his hands without number, 
 An, when he gets up, he sets folding his hands, 
 Or walks about tyfling or tauntering he stands. 
 
 "I passed by his garden, I ha'ad the wild briar, 
 The sorn an' the sistle grew broader and higher, 
 The clothes that hung on him were turning to dags, 
 Till he scarce read his Bible an' never loved sinking. 
 
 "Says I to myself, 'Here's a picsur for me! 
 This man's but a picsur of what I shall be.' 
 But thanks to my friends for their care in my b'eeding, 
 Who taught me by times to love wa'king an' deeding." 
 
 And Princess Ward, coming on the scene as the 
 last verse was started, augmented Seth's laughter 
 by gravely saying on its conclusion: 
 
 "Mis Lala, I dun tol' you already you mussen 
 say picsur, you must say picter!" 
 
 In case his story-telling powers should suddenly 
 fail the Doctor always had a few quiet games on
 
 232 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 hand to while away the "cooling off" period. On 
 this occasion some of the elder children had been 
 amusing themselves with that subtly instructive di 
 version, "Word-making and word-taking," as they 
 sat, Turkish fashion, in a circle on the floor of the 
 veranda. Tired of playing the game strictly ac 
 cording to rules, they had strayed into the pastime 
 of secretly spelling out some familiar name, and 
 handing the jumbled-up letters to their right-hand 
 neighbor for solution. There had been a respectful 
 pause in the brisk interchange of names for Lala's 
 recitation, and this was no sooner over than she 
 danced toward them, to elude Princess Ward and 
 to put off the hateful moment of going. 
 
 "What's 'oo doing?" she asked, squeezing down 
 into their midst with an ingratiating smile. 
 
 They explained. 
 
 "I wants to play too !" she thereupon announced. 
 "S'ow me." 
 
 They looked with deference at Princess Ward, 
 who had followed up her charge. 
 
 "No, Mis Lala," the nurse said, "you must 
 come home to once, or your mammy'll fret, you 
 know." 
 
 "Des one try, P'incess Ward!" she pleaded. 
 "An' I'll come." 
 
 But Lala's orthographical powers were not 
 quite up to her desires, and she was obliged to ap 
 peal to her little sweetheart, Hallie, a fine boy of 
 ten, for assistance. After much whispering be-
 
 WOODLANDS 233 
 
 tween them, Lala was provided with two names, 
 and she trotted back to Seth and the Doctor, hold 
 ing the well-mixed letters in each chubby hand. 
 She gave a name to each of them, and wanted to 
 wait for the solutions, but the Doctor, fully alive 
 to Princess Ward's perplexity, declared that he was 
 too tired to work it out now, but would work it out 
 afterward and let her know. He put the little 
 pieces of cardboard into his pocket, and Seth, say 
 ing that she should have his solution too, to-mor 
 row, followed his example. 
 
 "Now, Lala," said the Doctor firmly, "say 
 good-by and go with your nurse." 
 
 "Yes, Mis Lala," the latter assented, "you goin' 
 to get me into trouble ef you doan'. Come, 
 honey!' 
 
 Lala stood irresolute. 
 
 "Lala, I don't love you!" warned the Doctor. 
 
 She looked troubled for a moment, and then the 
 spirit of bravado braced her up. 
 
 "Well," she said, screwing up her little mouth 
 into a defiant pout, "I don't lub 'oo neeser!" 
 
 Seth had much ado to keep his face straight. 
 
 "Oh, all right. Good-by for good then. I never 
 want to see naughty little girls." 
 
 The majority of children would have acknowl 
 edged this speech by a burst of tears; but tears 
 were not much in Lala's way she was too confi 
 dently optimistic, as her friends well knew. She 
 might be safely relied on to laugh where other
 
 234 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 children would cry. She laughed now, and climb 
 ing carelessly upon the threatening Doctor's knee, 
 gave him a bearish hug. 
 
 "I'se goin' now," she said. "An' I'se comin' 
 again, isn't I?" 
 
 "If you're good." 
 
 She kissed him and "Mr. Seff" too, as she 
 called him, and took Princess Ward's hand. 
 
 "You tell me de names to-morro', 'member!" 
 she advised them. 
 
 "All right." 
 
 "And if we get them right, Lala, what then?" 
 Seth asked. 
 
 "I kiss 'oo." 
 
 "And if we can't make them out?" 
 
 "I sap 'oo " She paused, and added vindict 
 ively, "powerful!" 
 
 "May Heaven guide and support us!" cried 
 Seth, laughingly. "Good-by for the present, 
 Lala." 
 
 "Dood-by." 
 
 "It hurts me," Dr. Leeth dreamily observed to 
 Seth, when the little ones had all dwindled away, 
 and they two still sat on chattering, "it hurts me 
 to think that Lala will have to grow into a wo 
 man." 
 
 Seth started, looked at the Doctor curiously. 
 
 "Why?" he asked swiftly. "Surely, Doctor, 
 surely, you wouldn't have her " Seth's shrinking 
 tones died away into silence.
 
 WOODLANDS 235 
 
 "No, not die," quietly interposed the Doctor. 
 "But I'd like to keep her as she is, just as she is!" 
 
 "Why, are you a woman-hater, Doctor?" 
 smiled Seth. "I shouldn't have thought it." 
 
 "Oh, no ! But, on the other hand, I can't ideal 
 ize women, I can only see them as they are; and 
 so I prefer the baby to the young girl, and the old 
 lady to the beauty in her prime." 
 
 Seth laughed. 
 
 "You have grown cynical, Doctor, and have for 
 gotten your own young days," he protested. 
 
 "On my word, no ! I remember them quite viv 
 idly." 
 
 "Well, you held a different opinion then, I'll 
 bet a fortune." 
 
 "Think so?" the Doctor's tone was mocking. 
 
 "Yes. Deny it if you can." 
 
 "I do deny it." 
 
 There was a short silence. 
 
 "Well, you're a strange man that's all I can 
 say!" remarked the wondering Seth, giving up the 
 problem. 
 
 "I expect I am. But you're mighty fond of 
 little children yourself, Mr. Lomack." 
 
 "Rather. All my life long little children have 
 helped me. Still, think what a pretty woman Lala 
 will make." 
 
 "Ah, yes ! But a woman's beauty cannot touch 
 a child's. And she'll be self-conscious, and vain, 
 and artificial to boot the old unstudied charm and
 
 236 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 frankness will go. Still, I'd like to have Lala, 
 even with the drawback of her becoming a woman 
 some day." 
 
 "Well, why don't you marry her mother?" Seth 
 retorted bluntly. "The whole island expects you 
 to." 
 
 The Doctor smiled peculiarly. 
 
 "Yes, I know," he drawled. "But, perhaps, I 
 don't want to." 
 
 "She's a nice little woman," said Seth defend- 
 ingly. 
 
 "Nice? She's a dear little woman, and Lala 
 will have all I have some day." 
 
 Seth, interested as he was, realized that he had 
 reached a stone wall. He idly took up a book 
 which lay on the table between them, a book which 
 the Doctor had been reading prior to his guest's 
 arrival. It was Wilkie Collins's "After Dark, and 
 Other Stories." 
 
 "I like Wilkie Collins too," he observed tact 
 fully changing the conversation, "and these short 
 stories are capital. "Hullo !" as the book oblig 
 ingly fell open at a certain place as if long used 
 to be opened there "this seems to be a favorite." 
 
 It was in the middle of a story, so Seth's eyes 
 traveled to the top of the page for the title, "Sis 
 ter Rose." The open pages before him were 
 somewhat the worse for handling and frequent ex 
 posure, and showed to disadvantage beside the
 
 WOODLANDS 237 
 
 others, even the others of the same tale, although 
 the volume was an old one. 
 
 Seth noted all this, and then inquisitively re 
 freshed his memory by reading those favored 
 pages. 
 
 "Yes," said the Doctor absently, "that tale is a 
 favorite, as all the tales are which have helped 
 one." 
 
 "This one helped you, did it?" asked Seth, look 
 ing up with ready attention. 
 
 "Yes, very much. . .once. And I have a grate 
 ful affection for it such as you would feel for an 
 old, tried friend." 
 
 "That was a lucky and daring thought of Lo- 
 mack's my namesake ! the wiping out of the 
 names from the death-list, wasn't it?" Seth ob 
 served, in reference to that part of the story which 
 he had just been reading. 
 
 "Very." 
 
 "But do you think any chemical can remove ink- 
 writing without leaving the slightest mark, Doc 
 tor?" 
 
 "Oh, yes. Wilkie Collins was no bungler." 
 
 Seth closed the book, and laid it down. Idly 
 putting his hands into his pocket, he encountered 
 the cardboard letters Lala had given him, and 
 drew them out, and spread them on the table be 
 fore him. 
 
 The Doctor watched him a moment, and then 
 took up the abandoned volume, as Seth began to
 
 238 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 play with his letters. Seth turned the letters this 
 way and that without result, but suddenly three 
 letters chancing together suggested a name, and 
 he listlessly proceeded to try to spell it out. That 
 he did so successfully, startled him and he stared 
 at the result, dumbfounded ! Suddenly he glanced 
 swiftly and nervously at the absorbed Doctor, 
 noted his inattention with palpable relief, and rap 
 idly reduced his solution to an unintelligle jumble 
 once more. Then he fell back in his chair, and 
 the action attracted the Doctor's notice. 
 
 "Done your lesson?" queried his host, putting 
 down the book. 
 
 "N o," said Seth slowly. "What nanie could 
 Lala have given me? Can you guess?" 
 
 "Mine, probably," returned the Doctor, pro 
 ducing his set of letters. "Try it. And this is no 
 doubt yours. I know the little minx." 
 
 And so it proved. The tumbled heap of letters 
 before each man easily resolved itself into their re 
 spective names, the Doctor's first, for Seth's fingers 
 were not quite steady. They both laughed over 
 the solution, Seth not quite naturally, and bending 
 down his head. 
 
 "Well, we've got that off our minds," remarked 
 the Doctor, putting his letters back into his pocket. 
 "And now" as William drove the buggy to the 
 front "I must go and see Mrs. Moy's boy. Like 
 a drive?" 
 
 "Not this afternoon, thanks, Doctor," softly re-
 
 WOODLANDS 239 
 
 plied Seth, as he pocketed the Doctor's name. "I 
 must get back to the hotel. So long!" 
 
 "So long!" 
 
 The Doctor drove off. But Seth did not re 
 turn immediately to his quarters. Instead he re- 
 entered the house, and softly penetrated to the 
 Doctor's office a room seldom entered, except 
 for business purposes. A paragraph from "Sister 
 Rose" was singing through his brain. Above the 
 Doctor's desk was his framed diploma. Seth 
 studied it long and carefully, and for the first time. 
 It had not seemed of any importance before; and 
 now it seemed that he could not look long enough 
 at the names of the college and the man. Then 
 he returned slowly to the veranda, and sat down 
 in his former seat. Mechanically he again drew 
 Lala's letters from his pocket, and spread them 
 once more on the table. Deftly he sorted out the 
 little pile as before. 
 
 "Yes," he murmured, "all my life long have 
 little children helped me! You know much, Dr. 
 Noel Leeth, and you can keep your counsel well, 
 it seems. . . .but at least you shall tell me more 
 than you have yet done some day. . . .only not 
 now, not now !"
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 ADDIE 
 
 One morning Seth's mail brought him surprising 
 news. He had known for some little time now 
 that Addie's health had begun to fail, and that she 
 had gone to her mother in Ireland to recuperate; 
 and, on this particular morning, a letter from 
 Dickie Leigh informed him that he had joined 
 his wife in Ireland, and, finding her no better, had 
 decided to adopt the doctor's suggestion and bring 
 her to a warmer climate. Lord Kilburn was of 
 the opinion that there was nothing serious the mat 
 ter with her; that she had merely let herself run 
 down to the ground, and would soon pull up under 
 favorable conditions and those were plenty of 
 sunshine and warmth, absolute rest of her over 
 taxed energies, and gentle distraction. Under 
 these circumstances Dickie had arranged for a 
 prolonged leave of absence, and had decided to 
 make a move South at once and Barbadoes nat 
 urally suggested itself to them. It would be a 
 great pleasure to meet "Brother Seth" again. 
 "Brother Seth" was therefore commissioned to se 
 cure comfortable rooms for them at his hotel, in 
 cluding a private sitting-room; and also requested 
 to mention Addie's case to the best medical man at
 
 ADDIE 241 
 
 hand that he might be in readiness to attend the 
 patient on her arrival. For Addie was very 
 nervous about herself. They might be expected, 
 the letter concluded, by the next mail, and would 
 cable on leaving. 
 
 Seth read this letter with a mixture of feelings 
 which he did not attempt to analyze. He mused 
 over it all day, and after dinner put on his hat to 
 stroll over to Woodlands and consult Dr. Leeth, 
 whom he had not, up to now, troubled with the 
 recent disquieting news of Addie. He found Dr. 
 Leeth on his veranda smoking. 
 
 "Hullo!" said the latter. "Glad to see you. 
 Sit down. Have you dined?" 
 
 "Oh, yes. I came to consult you about a letter 
 I received this morning I am not detaining you, 
 am I?" 
 
 "No. I've nothing on. Well?" 
 
 "My sister-in-law, Mrs. Dickie Leigh, you 
 know," said Seth, sitting down, and staring before 
 him with a troubled frown, "is in a very poor state 
 of health." 
 
 "I am very sorry to hear it," said the Doctor 
 quickly. "May I ask what the trouble is?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing serious," instantly returned Seth, 
 busying himself over the cigarettes which the Doc 
 tor had pushed toward him across the little table, 
 "nothing serious at all, her husband assures me 
 only throughly run down." 
 
 16
 
 242 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "Ah! Has she been ailing long?" 
 
 "No, not very long." 
 
 "She is being medically attended, of course?" 
 
 "Oh, yes ! She's with her mother in Ireland just 
 now, where she went for the change and rest; but 
 her husband, who has recently joined her there, 
 doesn't think her improved. Her step-father is a 
 doctor, you know, although he does not practice 
 now, and he has been looking after her. He sug 
 gests a milder, brighter climate to recuperate in 
 . . . .and so they are coming here!" 
 
 There was an insignificant silence, and then the 
 Doctor said quickly: 
 
 "How nice for you, Mr. Lomack! You haven't 
 seen your sister-in-law for many years, have you?" 
 
 "No, not since her marriage." 
 
 "And perhaps, the husband is an old friend 
 too?" 
 
 "Yes, he is. And a jolly good fellow." 
 
 "Well, I congratulate you on their advent, al 
 though I regret the cause, of course. Still, from 
 all accounts, you needn't worry over that." 
 
 "No, I don't. I'm sure she'll soon pull up." 
 
 "When do you expect them, Mr. Lomack?" 
 
 "Next mail, they think. But I shall get a cable 
 when they leave." 
 
 "And they'll stay with you, I presume, at the 
 Neptune?" 
 
 "Yes. I have been commissioned to secure 
 rooms for them there."
 
 ADDIE 243 
 
 "Well, you're not full up, are you?" 
 
 "By no means. I got them comfortable rooms 
 easily." 
 
 "I am very glad." 
 
 There was another trifling silence. 
 
 "They also asked me," Seth then timidly pro 
 ceeded, "to speak to a physician that he might 
 be prepared to look after Addie a bit, as she is 
 uneasy about herself. And I was wondering 
 whether. . . .whether " 
 
 Doctor Leeth rose, and began slowly to pace 
 the veranda, puffing thoughtfully at his cigarette. 
 Seth watched him anxiously. 
 
 "Whether I would undertake the case, I sup 
 pose?" he said at last, halting before his guest. 
 
 "Yes. Would you mind?" 
 
 "Mind!" echoed the Doctor. "That's not the 
 question. But I am very busy, you know. . . . 
 still, it is difficult to refuse one's friends, and I I 
 certainly don't want to." 
 
 He was so plainly embarrassed, appeared so un 
 comfortably concerned, that Seth hastened to come 
 to his rescue. 
 
 "Thank you, Doctor," he said pleasantly. "I 
 quite understand; I am sorry to have troubled 
 you. Perhaps you will kindly suggest some one 
 else to me." 
 
 "No, you don't understand," retorted the Doc 
 tor, brusquely turning away. "I'm not going to
 
 244 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 suggest any one else. If you'll trust me in the 
 matter I'll do my best for Mrs. Dickie Leigh." 
 
 "We shall all be very thankful if you will, I am 
 sure," returned Seth simply. "That is if it's not 
 imposing on your good nature." 
 
 "No, it is not at all. We can usually make time 
 for what we wish to do." 
 
 "Ah, you are very good." 
 
 Thus all Seth's commissions were accomplished 
 without trouble, and he awaited the expected pair 
 impatiently. They duly arrived, and took pos 
 session of their pleasing rooms. The first joy of 
 meeting, and the incidental confusion of settling 
 down over, Seth had leisure to consider the pair 
 dispassionately. Dickie Leigh had grown stout, 
 and red, and grizzled, as well as middle-aged; and 
 the old boyish corruption of his name was no 
 longer in keeping with his appearance neverthe 
 less, habit is not .easily broken, and "Dickie" 
 he would remain to the end of the chapter. Addie, 
 too, was very much changed for the worse. Her 
 fair hair was still untouched by silver, or, if not, 
 the silver did not show up, and she was still slender 
 and pretty; but she looked sadly frail, feeble, and 
 faded. She seemed incapable of the effort cf en 
 joying anything long, and even in the midst of one 
 of those cheerful chats with poor old Seth, to 
 which she had been so looking forward, she would 
 suddenly, and quite helplessly, lapse into a tired, 
 dozy silence. Seth was glad to note that she and
 
 ADDIE 245 
 
 Dickie seemed as fond of each other as of yore, 
 and certainly Dickie's patient, tender care of her 
 left nothing to be desired. 
 
 At Addie's request Dr. Leeth was introduced to 
 her on the evening of her arrival, and then, after 
 a few seconds general conversation, husband and 
 brother withdrew, and left the Doctor alone with 
 his patient. She was too tired to show any of the 
 interest she felt in Seth's kind friend, of whom 
 he had been telling her so much almost too tired 
 to notice him. She just managed to answer his 
 questions intelligently, and to show her gratitude 
 for his kindly interest; and he did not bother her 
 much, leaving her quietly and speedily, with the 
 impression of a manner that was more than ordi 
 narily professionally gentle and reassuring. She 
 told Seth so the next day, remarking how much 
 she liked him; and Seth laughingly assured her 
 that he was not surprised, for, in spite of his lack 
 of physical attractions, the ladies rapidly lost their 
 hearts to Dr. Noel Leeth. 
 
 "He is sympathetic enough to be a woman," 
 concluded Addie, "and he has a woman's faculty 
 of reading and understanding you without words." 
 
 Seth only smiled at her enthusiasm. 
 
 Addie talked much to him, too, about Ethel. 
 She sympathetically understood that the search 
 for her gave Seth healthful interest and occupa 
 tion, but she feared the to her inevitable disap 
 pointment it would entail would prey upon him.
 
 246 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 Seth tried to reassure her on this point; and al 
 ways uneasily changed the conversation, for it was 
 difficult to talk about the lost sister without emo 
 tion and emotion was bad for the invalid. Still, 
 Addie recurred to the subject again and again, and 
 gradually extorted from Seth all the details of his 
 hunt. 
 
 Dr. Leeth, as the days slipped by, attended his 
 interesting patient with fair frequency; but after 
 he had prescribed a tonic for her, suggested a 
 course of diet, and given her a little common-sense 
 advice, he was careful to inform her husband that 
 his ensuing visits were purely friendly ones, for 
 there was nothing more to do for her she would 
 recover her strength and spirits naturally. Dickie 
 thanked him carefully, but rather sulkily. Still, 
 Dr. Leeth's visits were by no means as long or as 
 frequent as Mrs. Dickie Leigh would have liked, 
 and she continually urged this; but the Doctor's 
 excuses were not to be gainsaid, and Seth kept im 
 pressing upon her the importance of his time. It 
 was strange, considering the Doctor's affability, 
 and their indebtedness to his professional skill, 
 that Dickie could not share his wife's predilection 
 for him; but, as has already been hinted, Dickie 
 disliked and distrusted him. They were invariably 
 courteous when they met, for Dickie had sufficient 
 good feeling to be grateful to the little man; but 
 they were unquestionably glad to get away from 
 each other, although the Doctor liked Dickie, and
 
 ADDIE 247 
 
 was probably only disconcerted by the latter's la 
 tent hostility toward him. 
 
 Seth took advantage of the first opportunity af 
 forded him to speak to Dickie upon the subject 
 indeed, to remonstrate with him. They were alone 
 together in the sitting-room, Addie having retired 
 to her own room for a nap. 
 
 "Look here, Dick!" Seth began. "You don't 
 mean to tell me that you don't like my friend Dr. 
 Leeth, do you?" 
 
 Dick started, and paused before replying. He 
 didn't want to offend Seth, or his friend in the 
 one instance, true regard forbade it, in the other, a 
 sense of obligation. But Dickie was innately truth 
 ful, and the awkward question irritated him. 
 
 "Why, I've never said so!" he at length ex 
 claimed sharply. "I'm sure I've been as civil and 
 as thankful to him as a man can be. I don't think 
 I've given you any right to come down upon me 
 like this." 
 
 Seth smiled over the evasion. 
 
 "No," he returned. "You haven't said it, Dick; 
 but you looked it all right at times and at times 
 you acted it in the retiring way, you know." 
 
 "Well now, don't you think you are fanciful, 
 Seth?" 
 
 "No, I don't. And you don't either. So let 
 the murder out: I'm curious over it. Although 
 Dr. Leeth's my friend, every man is welcome to
 
 \ 
 
 248 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 his own opinion and I honestly want to hear 
 yours of him." 
 
 "Well, since you will have it," sighed Dick, 
 "you shall! A man can't always control his own 
 feelings, you know. I believe your friend Dr. 
 Leeth is a clever, trustworthy doctor, and he has 
 done Ad a lot of good and I'm sure for that I 
 can't feel more beholden to you both for you pro 
 cured him for us than I do. But the man jars 
 upon me for all that, Seth, in a way I can't very 
 well explain. Trusting him entirely as a doctor, 
 I'm afraid I shouldn't trust him as a man." 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Seth, with a heavy 
 frown. 
 
 "There now, you're angry, and it's not my fault. 
 Why wouldn't you leave my likes and dislikes 
 for which, as I said just now, a man can't be held 
 accountable alone? Let us drop the subject." 
 
 "By no means. I'm not at all angry, I'm only 
 puzzled puzzled and interested. Go on. You'd 
 trust him as a doctor and not as a man. .. .ex 
 plain." 
 
 "What I mean is this," pursued Dick reluct 
 antly. "I think, as a doctor, Leeth would fulfill 
 conscientiously his duties; as a man, he would, 
 probably, give way to his natural tendencies." 
 
 "And these, you think, would not be to his 
 credit?" 
 
 "Well, I think, for one thing, he is naturally in 
 clined to be too free where women are concerned."
 
 ADDIE 249 
 
 Seth stared in his turn, and then he burst into 
 the heartiest fit of laughter imaginable. 
 
 "Why, he is an old man, Dick!" he cried, as 
 soon as he could speak. 
 
 "What does that matter?" was the warm re 
 joinder. 
 
 "Oh, Dick, you never spoke a greater libel in 
 your life!" gasped Seth, beginning to laugh again. 
 "My poor slandered friend!" 
 
 "All right," retorted Dick petulantly. "Let it 
 drop then." 
 
 "No, no, let me convince you. I am sure Dr. 
 Leeth never considers women at all except as cases ; 
 he rather shuns them in fact, apart from his pro 
 fession, he shuns mankind. His leanings are all 
 toward the recluse." 
 
 "Was he ever married?" 
 
 "No. He once told me himself that no woman 
 was ever, as the saying runs, 'all the world to 
 him' ; that his heart was buried in a boy's grave." 
 
 "A boy's grave ! And you believe this fairy / 
 tale, Seth?" 
 
 Seth gazed through the open window into the 
 brightly tinted prospective ere replying; then his 
 honest eyes came back to Dick's inquiring face. 
 
 "Frankly," he said, "yes, I do." 
 
 "You don't think there was some woman at the 
 back of that boy?" 
 
 "Not in the sense you mean. But tell me, what 
 has made you so suspicious of Dr. Leeth?"
 
 250 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "He looks at Addie in a way all out of keeping 
 with the circumstances," blurted Dick irritably. 
 "Quite too tenderly, sometimes quite lackadaisic 
 ally. When he has to touch her he does so caress 
 ingly. He speaks to her too familiarly not in 
 words exactly, but in tone, and I don't like it!" 
 
 Again Seth laughed, but not quite so spontan 
 eously as before ; there was an undercurrent of un 
 easiness. 
 
 "All merely his natural gentleness and kindness 
 of heart," he said. "I say, Dick, how you must 
 have watched him ! Do you always thus watch 
 any one who comes near the presence?" 
 
 Dick made no reply, and his face looked surly. 
 
 " 'Oh, beware, my lord, of jealousy,' " quoted 
 Seth gaily; " ' 'tis the green-eyed monster which 
 doth mock the meat it feeds on.' ' 
 
 "That's all very fine," reported Dick; "but it's 
 no refutation of my charge." 
 
 "My refutation," retorted Seth, a little haught 
 ily, "is that your jealous fancy has placed an ex 
 aggerated importance on Dr. Leeth's honest, 
 manly tenderness and sympathy toward a nervous, 
 suffering woman." 
 
 "Oh." 
 
 "But," continued Seth, with growing indigna 
 tion, for Dick's exclamation had a skeptical ring, 
 "there is no reason why you should be made un 
 comfortable over it. I will undertake to give Dr. 
 Leeth a gentle and subtle hint to cease his visits."
 
 ADDIE 251 
 
 "No, no!" cried Dick repentantly. "Not for 
 the world! After all he has done for Addie, to 
 hurt his feelings would be too bad." 
 
 Again Seth's eyes wandered to the window, and 
 dreamily enjoyed the clear bright view. 
 
 "You may trust me," he said, with quiet irri- 
 pressiveness, "not to hurt his feelings." 
 
 "No," returned Dick quickly, "I won't have it. 
 Addie likes him, and she would miss his visits, I 
 can trust my wife, Seth. And I won't be a party 
 to such a mean return for all the man's kindness to 
 us." 
 
 "At least it would be more honest," said Seth, 
 "than to let him come here on sufferance." 
 
 "No; no doubt I am mistaken. Addie has 
 heaps of common sense and delicate feeling, and 
 she wouldn't like a man who wasn't straight. I 
 begin to feel ashamed of myself -but I didn't 
 want to express my half-formed ideas about your 
 friend, Seth, only you would wring them from 
 me." 
 
 Both men rose to terminate the conversation. 
 Seth turned to leave the room, and then suddenly 
 turned back and laid his hand gently on Addie's 
 husband's shoulder. 
 
 "Just a word more before we drop this subject, 
 Dick," he said. "You believe I've got a little 
 common sense, don't you?" 
 
 "Yes, I guess you've got your share."
 
 252 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "You know I've knocked about the world, and 
 got my balance long ago?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You don't think I would lie to you?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then accept my solemn assurance that my 
 friend, Dr. Noel Leeth, is the nicest man I've 
 ever met." 
 
 "He may be," said the puzzled Dick "the un 
 canny little devil !" 
 
 Seth strangled a smile. 
 
 "You don't love your wife any more jealously, 
 Dick, than I loved mine," he proceeded earnestly. 
 "Yet, were Etta here, I'd trust her to Doctor 
 Leeth anywhere, and anyhow. . . .I'd trust him to 
 show her the Infernal Regions, and bring her 
 safely back!" 
 
 "Why, Seth- 
 
 "Don't interrupt me ! You were always a fool, 
 Dickie, and we must have patience with such 
 or I'd have kicked you for what you said just 
 now. So long!" 
 
 "So long;" echoed the crushed Dick, and sat 
 down again to revise his condemned thoughts. 
 
 "I don't care, I hate the little beast!" was, how 
 ever, the only conclusion he could come to. 
 
 Addie improved very gradually, but surely; 
 and, as she grew stronger and brighter, she was 
 by degrees introduced to the set Seth had found so 
 enthralling. Mrs. Darling and Lala were her first
 
 ADDIE 253 
 
 callers, and to Lala fell the honor of extorting the 
 first laugh from the desponding little invalid. 
 Lala having proved such a wholesome tonic, came 
 to be requisitioned at stated intervals; and she 
 grew quite attached to the pretty sick lady, who 
 was so clever in keeping her quietly amused, and 
 talked to her so sweetly. It became one of Lala's 
 chief pleasure to go and "nass" her, and Princess 
 Ward was as severely snubbed when she appeared 
 to withdraw her from the hotel as when at Wood 
 lands. Addie would frequently beg another half 
 hour for her little nurse, and she had many a 
 hearty laugh over the quaint manner in which Lala 
 would hold up her tiny forefinger close before her 
 own little face when she caught herself dozing off, 
 in spite of her enjoyment of the coveted extra time. 
 
 "That's the wa'ast of you!" she would exclaim 
 indignantly to herself. 
 
 "Why do you hold your finger up, Lala?" Ad- 
 die smilingly asked. 
 
 "Muvver does it to me w'en I'se naughty," she 
 explained. 
 
 "But you're not naughty now, darling!" 
 
 "Yus, I is," she returned, solemnly shaking her 
 head, "I'se goin' seeps, an' I doan' want to. I 
 can't nass you w'en I'se aseep." 
 
 "But tired little girlies must sleep, or they'll get 
 sick," pursued Addie tenderly. "And then they 
 won't be able to help any one. Come to me, 
 Sweetheart!"
 
 254 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 But now Dickie would intrude upon the pair, 
 and Lala would throw herself upon him, demand 
 ing her favorite story of "The Cat." It was a 
 wonderful story this quite a weird one. At a 
 certain point in the narrative the cat would give a 
 prolonged, blood-curdling snarl, most unnerving 
 to hear, and, at the same time, gruesomely attrac 
 tive. You couldn't help wanting to hear it des 
 perately, any more than you could help fleeing 
 from it in terror when it came. And the point 
 was to take your little listener into your arms and 
 tell it to her while you walked about the room. 
 Lala felt so weak and helpless high up in the air; 
 and, as the dreaded yet awesomely fascinating 
 moment approached nearer and nearer until it was 
 almost at hand, she would suddenly cry peremp 
 torily, "Down, Dick!" and flee to Addie's shelter 
 ing arms. Then the sleepy little head would soon 
 nestle against that gentle bosom, and presently 
 Princess Ward would for once take a peaceable 
 little charge home. 
 
 "It seems," Dr. Leeth remarked, with a smile, 
 on the conclusion of one of these occasions, to 
 which Seth and himself had been interested spec 
 tators, "that Mr. Lomack and I are not the only 
 ones who break the Tenth Commandment in Lai's 
 name." 
 
 "No, indeed!" spoke up the wedded pair. 
 
 Addie and Dick were adopted by acclamation 
 by the other members of the coterie as well; and
 
 ADDIE 255 
 
 it was not very long before, to her own surprise, 
 Addie found herself again keenly enjoying such 
 social events as dinner and garden parties and 
 little dances. In acknowledgment of these courte 
 sies, Mr. and Mrs. Dickie Leigh gave toward the 
 close of their stay in Little England a big dinner 
 to their new-found friends, which elaborate func 
 tion proved a most delightful finish to the round 
 of gaiety. It seemed that Mr. and Mrs. Dicky 
 Leigh's entire visit to Barbadoes was going to 
 pass off without a single hitch; but it is the unex 
 pected that happens, you know, and the hitch 
 came in the end to the complete disconcertion 
 of three of the principals, although the fourth re 
 mained in blissful ignorance of it. It came about 
 in this wise. 
 
 The morning after the above-mentioned dinner 
 Addie rose haggard and restless. Dr. Leeth, call 
 ing early on his morning round of visits, plainly 
 saw that she had been imposing too much on her 
 newly recovered energies. Having retired very 
 late the preceding night, thoroughly worn out, a 
 sharp attack of neuralgia had prevented her enjoy 
 ing the few remaining hours of repose; and she 
 had arisen at the usual hour, unrefreshed, but still 
 glad to quit her thorny couch. On hearing this 
 the Doctor promised to send her in a soothing 
 powder at once, and recommended her, after tak 
 ing it, to retire again and try to get a little needful 
 rest. He then took his leave.
 
 256 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 The powder was not long in making its appear 
 ance, but it was tardy in its action. Addie felt no 
 desire to go to bed again, but continued up, fidget- 
 ting about. It was only after a slight repast at 
 midday that she began to feel drowsy, and then 
 she lay down on the sofa in the sitting-room, and 
 soon sank into a deep repose. 
 
 Dr. Leeth called again in the afternoon to see 
 how she was getting on. He saw nothing of Dick 
 or Seth on entering the hotel, and made his way 
 at once to Addie's sitting-room. He knocked 
 twice at the door without obtaining an answer, and 
 then softly entered. Dick and Seth were off some 
 where and the room was tenanted only by the 
 soundly sleeping woman. Dr. Leeth closed the 
 door noiselessly, and tip-toed over to the couch 
 on which she was lying. He looked down intently 
 at her unconscious face. How young and pretty 
 she looked, poor little thing, in her deep slumber! 
 He tested the latter by speaking to her softly, and 
 she never stirred not the faintest shadow of con 
 sciousness showed itself in her still fair face. He 
 touched the face and the loosened hair with nerv 
 ously caressing fingers. Did she remind him of 
 any one he had loved and parted with that he felt 
 so tender over her? It must have been so, for he 
 suddenly stooped and kissed her. The instant his 
 lips touched her face he knew instinctively that 
 Seth and her husband were staring at him, horror- 
 stricken, from the doorway. He knew it quite
 
 ADDIE 257 
 
 well before he heard the door close and turned and 
 faced them. 
 
 Dickie's face was livid with passion, and he 
 gasped chokingly: 
 
 "What did I tell you, Seth? What did I tell 
 you? Perhaps you'll talk to me of fancy now!" 
 
 Dr. Leeth cursed himself for his folly as he 
 stolidly awaited the hot-tempered husband's on 
 slaught. Dickie, completely oblivious of his 
 sleeping wife in the first all-consuming fire of his 
 indignation, advanced upon the Doctor with up 
 lifted arm. And then a strange thing happened. 
 Seth, who up to now had remained rooted just in 
 side the closed door, suddenly sprang forward, 
 with a white, quivering face, caught Dickie's 
 threatening arm in a vise-like grip, and hoarsely 
 muttered: 
 
 "If you strike him, Dick, by Heaven, I'll /'// 
 break every bone in your skin!" 
 
 Dick's anger changed to amazement as his eyes 
 traveled from the Doctor's passive face to Seth's 
 furious one. It was a queer tableau, and Dr. 
 Leeth looked on it apprehensively. In the stillness 
 which followed its formation the Doctor made his 
 excuses with calm dignity, while Addie slept se 
 renely on. 
 
 "I am an old man, Mr. Leigh, and, I beg to as 
 sure you, a gentleman. I meant no disrespect to 
 your sweet wife, or to you; you will only be doing 
 17
 
 258 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 me justice in believing that I am incapable of in 
 sulting either of you, and that I hold you both in 
 the highest esteem. I offer you my most humble 
 and sincere apologies for having thoughtlessly 
 ventured to express my fatherly interest and com 
 passion in a way I I had no right to ! I will re 
 lieve you at once, and of course permanently, of 
 my undesired acquaintanceship." 
 
 He bowed, and quitted the room. Dick turned 
 to Seth. 
 
 "Will you let me go now, you madman?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Will you accept Dr. Leeth's apology?" 
 
 "Yes provided he sticks to his bond, and keeps 
 out of our path for the few days it remains us to 
 spend here." 
 
 "You need have no fear of that." 
 
 With which reply Seth pushed the jealous hus 
 band from him impatiently, and hastened after the 
 Doctor. He caught up with him in the grounds 
 of the hotel, the Doctor having walked over from 
 Woodlands. Seth accompanied him part of the 
 way back in silence. Then he stammered hotly : 
 
 "I'm so sorry, Doctor! But it's it's really not 
 worth thinking about any more." 
 
 The Doctor's face was coldly, sternly set, but 
 his lips trembled ominously when he spoke. 
 
 "I suppose I ought to thank you for your warm 
 championship, Mr. Lomack," he said. "One 
 should always be grateful for such generous sup-
 
 ADDIE 259 
 
 port, even even when it is a little out of keeping. 
 For really .... you see, a man can .... a man 
 can" 
 
 "A man can fight his own battles," amended 
 Seth unsteadily. 
 
 "Why, yes!" falteringly pursued the Doctor, as 
 he rubbed his hands together, "even an old man 
 and I am not so very old, Mr. Lomack." 
 
 "Forgive me, Doctor! . It was insane of me, of 
 course. I acted without thinking." 
 
 The Doctor laid his hand cordially upon Seth's 
 arm. 
 
 "I'm afraid we all did," he said with a strange 
 smile. "But let it pass let it pass !"
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 TILL THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD 
 
 Well, Addie and Dickie departed and were 
 much missed by those they left behind them, es 
 pecially by Seth and Dr. Leeth. Addie won 
 dered fretfully at the abrupt cessation of Dr. 
 Leeth's visits to her, and Seth left it to her hus 
 band to explain, and Dickie preferred not to ex 
 plain at all. However, before they departed, that 
 they might be mutually gratified, Seth contrived 
 an apparently accidental meeting between Dr. 
 Leeth and Addie. The Doctor, charged as a rank 
 deserter by his late fair patient, instantly saw that 
 she had not been enlightened as to the cause, and, 
 pleading intense occupation, wished her farewell 
 and Godspeed with all due interest and respect. 
 
 Even Othello and Cassio shook hands. And 
 now Dr. Leeth was beginning to droop. 
 
 Dr. Leeth had been secretly ailing for some 
 time before those about him began to notice it; 
 for the Doctor had a horror of complaining and 
 coddling himself, and his wonderful will-power 
 kept him brisk and doing when just ordinarily 
 gifted people would have found it impossible to 
 disguise and conquer the truth. But it had to leak 
 out in the end, of course ; and even then he answer-
 
 TILL THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD 261 
 
 ed all anxious inquiries as brusquely and lightly as 
 possible. 
 
 No, he was "not feeling quite up to the mark," 
 but it was "nothing to talk about." It would soon 
 pass." 
 
 However, his indisposition did not wear off, but, 
 on the contrary, increased alarmingly. He began 
 to look, as he felt, utterly worn out. His appre 
 hensive friends urged him unceasingly to take a 
 rest and change, and this, in the end, he felt un 
 willingly compelled to do. For not even his 
 strong, tireless mind could now force any more 
 work out of his throughly exhausted body. So he 
 made all the necessary arrangements about his 
 practice; and, as he had a natural leaning toward 
 the sea, he decided to begin his holiday by taking 
 his passage in the next steamer for England. 
 These plans made, he called on Seth 5n the evening 
 and communicated them to him. 
 
 "Well, I'm awfully glad you've given in at 
 last!" cried Seth, much relieved. "I believe if 
 you had held out much longer you'd have smashed 
 up altogether." 
 
 "Yes," assented the Doctor. "I believe I 
 should. It's that conviction that has conquered 
 me. But I give in most reluctantly, I assure you. 
 I'd a million times rather work than play." 
 
 "A judicious mixture is, however, advisable," 
 retorted Seth, "and I don't believe you've ever 
 gone in for it. I suppose you haven't given your-
 
 262 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 self a holiday for a century and you a teacher 
 of physiology ! Come ! Confess to it." 
 
 "Not quite so long," smiled the Doctor. "But 
 certainly not for a very long while." 
 
 "Ah! I was sure of it. You look it," said 
 Seth, scrutinizing the Doctor's haggard face un 
 easily. 
 
 "I've been too interested in my work, you see, 
 Mr. Lomack." 
 
 "Exactly. Well, it's had more than its fair 
 share of attention, and I'm very pleased to hear 
 that you are going to give the other side of life 
 a look in before you collapse altogether. A sea- 
 voyage is a good start there's no place like board- 
 ship for absolute rest and quiet, and that's all you 
 want to put you right again." 
 
 "Well perhaps!" 
 
 "No 'perhaps' about it!" cried Seth cheerfully. 
 "You're just overworked." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so," mused the Doctor. "And 
 then you know, Mr. Lomack, I need a change of 
 climate too, I think. This climate is a glorious 
 one, but too much of a good thing is as bad as 
 none at all, as our copy-books used to remind us : 
 and I've been a fixture here now for a great number 
 of years a breath of something less pleasant but 
 more bracing is, no doubt, desirable. The judi 
 cious mixture again, eh?" 
 
 "Exactly!" responded Seth heartily. "Why, 
 I've not been here so long, Doctor, and, Heaven
 
 TILL THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD 263 
 
 knows, I am enjoying all this!" He paused and 
 glanced expressively about him. "Still I believe a 
 change would freshen me up. My mother-in-law 
 is bothering me to pay her a visit to Ireland, and, 
 do you know, I've a good mind to go to England 
 with you, Doctor." 
 
 "Do!" cried the Doctor eagerly. "Come along 
 by all means. I shall be mighty glad of your 
 companionship." 
 
 And so it was finally arranged. When the 
 Amazon left Barbados the following week, Dr. 
 Leeth and Seth were on board. 
 
 For the first half of the voyage they were 
 favored with bright still weather, and glided 
 steadily over a glass-like sea; but after that a 
 swift and appalling change fell suddenly upon 
 them. They awoke one morning to find them 
 selves in the grasp of a furious storm. The wind 
 howled, the sea raged, the inky heavens lightened 
 and thundered. The frightened passengers hud 
 dled together in the saloon. The deck was for 
 bidden them, for the Amazon kept it almost at 
 right-angles with the mountainous sea, now on 
 this side and now on that. But that same sea was 
 a magnificent, if unnerving, sight, as it rose in 
 rapidly succeeding threatening walls, mast-high it 
 seemed, and broke with a thundering deafening 
 roar over the straining, quivering ship. Its force 
 struck her decks continually with the report of a 
 cannon, and every now and then, in her frantic
 
 264 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 plunges, she would lift her screw out of the water 
 and there would follow a ghastly, sickening sen 
 sation as if she were scraping her keel over 
 knife-edged rocks. The engines were practically 
 stopped, for the captain feared to push her through 
 such a sea; she had all the strain laid on her that 
 she could possibly bear, and more it seemed, as 
 the hours lengthened into days without bringing 
 any abatement of the fury of the elements, more 
 than she was going to bear. So she lay, poor, 
 caught, tortured thing, with the monstrous seas 
 crashing over her, leaking, it seemed, at every pore, 
 groaning in every screw, writhing in every plank. 
 The awesome throbbing of the pumps, the sicken 
 ing straining of the steamer, the relentless uproar 
 of the storm, the hysterical whimpering of the 
 women, and the sharp wail of the children were 
 the tunes to which the self-contained male passen 
 gers struggled perfunctorily through their meals 
 and through the intervening hours of the daytime. 
 The officers went about their duties with a stern 
 reserve which forbade questioning, but their grave 
 faces were not reassuring. There were plenty of 
 gruesome accidents among the poor seamen : men 
 swept overboard, heads cut open, limbs shivered; 
 and, on the third day of the storm, the harassed 
 ship's doctor presented a piteously wan, disheveled 
 appearance, not having had his clothes off for three 
 nights. Dr. Leeth, the only other medico on
 
 TILL THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD 265 
 
 board, helped him valiantly, however; and still 
 the storm raged on. 
 
 The room above the saloon was a combined 
 library, music and drawing-room, and a large cir 
 cular opening in its centre, railed round, afforded 
 a pretty comprehensive view of the saloon beneath. 
 This upper room was practically deserted, for the 
 dismal lunges of the ship were more perceptible 
 here, of course, than on the deck below. On the 
 afternoon of the third day only Dr. Leeth clung 
 to this circular railing, and gazed down compas 
 sionately on his terror-stricken fellow-passengers. 
 He did not feel exactly comfortable himself, far 
 from it! but his habitual self-possession had not 
 deserted him and it cloaked his feelings well. He 
 was joined presently by Seth. 
 
 "Well," said the latter, with forced sprightli- 
 ness, "once let me get my foot off her, and she'll 
 never have another chance to be at my funeral ! 
 I wonder how long this racket is going to keep up ? 
 Deuced unpleasant, isn't it?" He glanced at his 
 companion briefly but searchingly. 
 
 "Ah!" returned the Doctor quietly, "I don't 
 think it will be over soon, and I don't think she'll 
 stand much more of it either." 
 
 "You don't?" 
 
 "No, I don't!" 
 
 "You take it coolly enough," said Seth admir 
 ingly. 
 
 "What's the use of doing otherwise?"
 
 266 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "None at all, of course." 
 
 They examined each other's faces steadily now, 
 with that curious calmness which the close 
 approach of the inevitable always mercifully 
 brings. Then Seth realized that the supreme mo 
 ment was at hand the moment for which he had 
 long yearned, and which he had pictured in a 
 thousand bright settings but, oh, God, never like 
 this, never like this ! The moment when he might 
 safely break the cruel silence he had imposed upon 
 himself. He freed one hand, and put that arm 
 timidly round the Doctor, and bent his head over 
 him. 
 
 "Ethel!" he whispered humbly, pleadingly. 
 
 Was it the force of her own surprise and 
 emotion that threw her staggering against him, or 
 the sickening lurch of the doomed ship? He 
 never knew. Her voice was rather breathless 
 when she spoke, but it might have been from either 
 cause. 
 
 "How did you guess?. . . .How long have you 
 known?" she gasped. 
 
 "I think I have only really known since since 
 the day. of your last child's party," he stammered, 
 "when Lala recited the 'Tuggard' to us, you know. 
 But, oh, Ethel, I think I've been gradually guess 
 ing the truth ever ever since the first evening I 
 spent at your house. There was something about 
 your eyes and smile then that fixed my attention 
 and subtly grew faintly familiar, although I could
 
 TILL THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD 267 
 
 not, try as I would, divine how or why. Then I 
 soon got to feel a queer tenderness toward you, the 
 stranger, which puzzled me vastly. And on that 
 stormy evening, you know, when you came to my 
 room at the Neptune and were examining my 
 photographs, I first realized the likeness to Ethel in 
 you. It was that, and not the lightning, which 
 knocked me over. But it didn't suffice to convince 
 me. I merely thought I must be crazy that 
 dwelling on the one thought had turned my brain. 
 Still, I couldn't resist the blind Impulse to assure 
 you that / had not forgotten Ethel, that I should 
 always be thankful I had sought her. You re 
 member?" 
 
 "Yes," she whispered," "I remember." 
 
 "I tried, afterward, to gather some particulars 
 of your antecedents from your intimate friends; 
 for, if I did not know you, you had, nevertheless, 
 aroused a fever of curiosity within me. But I was 
 not successful; they were so cautious. Either 
 they knew nothing, or they would not tell." 
 
 "They knew but little, truly," she returned, 
 "but I am glad to hear they were so loyal." 
 
 "Then," pursued Seth, "to come to that grand 
 day when the truth came home to me, the day of 
 your last child's party you remember, after the 
 children had dispersed, that I stayed and talked to 
 you about a book you had been reading, a bock 
 which you said had helped you?" 
 
 "Yes," she said again, "I remember."
 
 268 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 "The page you seemed to have consulted often- 
 est," went on Seth, "dealt with the removal by 
 some chemical of ink-writing without leaving any 
 mark. That puzzled me tremendously. I ques 
 tioned the possibility of it, but you were certain 
 of it yet you did not wander on to the subject 
 of what interest such a matter held for you, as I 
 hoped you would. So I dropped it. I began 
 to play with the letters Lala had given me to 
 make a name with. Three of them happening to 
 be together E T H naturally suggested the 
 name always in my mind; and, without dreaming 
 of success, I idly tried to spell out Ethel Leon. 
 That I was successful dumbfounded me! And in 
 stinctively I wanted to keep the fact from you! 
 You were absorbed in the book I had laid down 
 if you have not forgotten?" 
 
 "No, I have not forgotten." 
 
 "So I jumbled my letters together again, and 
 fell back in my chair; and, when you looked up, I 
 asked you as calmly as I could what name Lala 
 could have given me. You guessed your own at 
 once, and mine to you. And so it was. This, on 
 the top of all I had noted before, seemed to me at 
 last conclusive. You may imagine what I felt ! 
 Little things which had puzzled me before about 
 you, I could now explain. 'The boy's grave,' for 
 instance meant poor Reggie Law's though I 
 never guessed until then that that old, childish 
 romance meant so much to you, Ethel ! Well, you
 
 TILL THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD 269 
 
 were called away, and I refused to drive with you. 
 When you were gone I re-entered your house and 
 went straight to your office. In the light of my 
 newly born conviction the favored page from 
 'Sister Rose' took a startling clear significance. I 
 examined Dr. Noel Leeth's diploma carefully, and 
 for the first time; and I felt as sure of what name 
 it had originally presented, and why it had been 
 altered, and how it had been altered as if you had 
 stood by me at the time explaining it all with your 
 own lips. My surroundings faded away from me. 
 I seemed to be back in Pacific Street, hearing you 
 say again, 'How I would enjoy a fight that would 
 prove me of some worth, and so make life seem 
 worth living! A good bracing, mettlesome con 
 test ah, there's nothing like it. I ought to have 
 been a man, Seth I might have gone out to seek 
 it then I ought to have been a man !' ' 
 
 "How well you remember!" she faintly smiled. 
 "And you never gave me a hint that you knew 
 why?" 
 
 "Ah, you don't know how I wanted to, dear. 
 But I was afraid that you would send me from 
 you, fearing that I might at some time or other 
 inadvertently compromise your hard, splendidly 
 earned position. So I kept up the search for 
 Ethel purely as a blind and I succeeded well, did 
 I not? You never dreamed I knew?" 
 
 "No; though at times your eyes and manner
 
 270 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 made me nervous vaguely apprehensive. Never 
 more so than when I kissed Addle." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 "You hastened to reassure me though," she 
 smiled tremulously. 
 
 "Yes. I was so afraid of being shut away from 
 you, Ethel! From the moment I found you, I 
 was resolved resolved indeed before I ever began 
 my search to pass the rest of my days at your 
 side. Your companionship is the dearest thing 
 in the world to me now." 
 
 "Faithful old Seth!" she murmured. "I can 
 never tell you what a boon it's been to me to see 
 you, and have you near me again. Believe me, the 
 silence tried me, too, Seth, but I dared not break 
 it for the reason you have guessed." 
 
 "And now tell me, Ethel, however did you man 
 age it all?" 
 
 "Ah, just with pains!" she returned. "With 
 infinite pains ! I've written a detailed account of 
 it for those I love who may survive me, and they'll 
 be reading it before long I believe. No one has 
 ever suspected me, Seth ! I've made a good man, 
 have I not?" 
 
 "Capital!" he said dreamily. 
 
 "Hush!" she now cried peremptorily. "Here's 
 the ship's doctor coming this way. Take your 
 arm away, Seth! Ethel Leon is dead, and it is 
 out of your power to revive her."
 
 TILL THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD 271 
 
 "Out of my power?" he echoed, as he quiver- 
 ingly obeyed her. 
 
 "Yes," she smiled bravely. "You never told 
 tales out of school in your life, Seth. It is too late 
 for you to begin now. Ethel Leon was an aching 
 failure : Noel Leeth is successful and happy. He 
 trusts you and you must respect him !" 
 
 The ship's doctor here joined them and a mo 
 mentous conversation ensued. 
 
 The poor old Amazon was gradually breaking 
 up there was no longer any possibility of dis 
 guising the fact! She had fought long and well, 
 but a deadly perseverance on the part of her all- 
 powerful foe had mastered her in the end, as all 
 had forseen. All her boats, save two, had been 
 swept away. If the sea had subsided at all there 
 would be an attempt to lower these for the women 
 and children at present, it was impossible. 
 
 Later the sea did subside a little, and the sobbing 
 women and children were mustered together. 
 The storm, however, was still bad enough, 
 Heaven knows, and that the Amazon was not 
 going to keep above it long was clear to all. The 
 men stood apart; and, among them, colorless and 
 worn, but outwardly, at least, supremely calm, 
 stood Dr. Noel Leeth. 
 
 Seth drew him aside, out of the hearing of the 
 others. Together they stood on the streaming, 
 rocking deck, grasping the rod against the parti-
 
 272 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 tion wall behind them to keep themselves from 
 falling. Then Seth spoke. 
 
 "I'll respect the situation no longer!" he cried. 
 "Ethel, you shall take your due place with the 
 women and children ! Do you hear me, you mad 
 thing? I insist upon it!" 
 
 She looked up at him. There was not a drop 
 of color in her face; her pallid lips were trem 
 bling; her fine eyes moist with tears. But, 
 through those same swimming eyes a transcendent 
 light now broke all courage, all resolution. She 
 put his command from her effectually, contemp- 
 tously by ignoring it grandly. 
 
 "I I found my world to struggle with and con 
 quer, didn't I, Seth?" she gasped triumphantly, 
 now straining forward with the motion of the ship, 
 now jerked back and bruised against the partition 
 behind her, now again shaking her head and blink- 
 as the briny spray flicked her death-like face. It's 
 worn me out perhaps .... I had a presentiment 
 that I should never recover my old robust health 
 .... I feel I am breaking up for good. But, at 
 least, I have not lived in vain. Few see their am 
 bitions realized, as I have done .... I thank God 
 for it .... I thank Him that I have not lived in 
 vain!" 
 
 Her irrelevance was magnificently pathetic, but 
 he dared not let it influence him. 
 
 "No," he returned hurriedly and roughly; "you 
 haven't lived in vain, and now don't, like a fool,
 
 TILL THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD 273 
 
 die in vain. / tell you I cannot bear to see it, 
 Ethel! Come ! There's no time to lose. I'll do 
 all the explaining, quickly and well. Trust me. 
 Only come. . . .come at once!" 
 
 The first boat was lowered, and went on her 
 perilous way. The second was being rapidly made 
 ready. The Amazon was beginning to incline 
 her bows downward. Seth felt maddened; he 
 reiterated his plea. She merely glanced fleetingly 
 at the group he indicated, and slightly shook her 
 head. She tightened her hold upon the rod be 
 hind her, and gazed serenely before her over that 
 awesome sea. 
 
 And now from amongst the huddled, stricken 
 group of passengers some one suddenly found voice 
 and falteringly broke into that familiar hymn of 
 pleading for those in their sore strait, and his 
 silent companions soon found the courage to join 
 in. So, above the storm and stress encompassing 
 them, their wavering voices rose and fell with 
 weird pathos : 
 
 " 'Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee 
 For those in peril on the sea !' " 
 
 It hushed the sobbing of the women and chil 
 dren, but Seth wanted to put his fingers in his 
 ears .... let go .... give up .... anything to shut 
 out that piteous wail. He mastered the impulse 
 with difficulty. He looked at Ethel, and saw how 
 she, too, was tortured. 
 
 18
 
 274 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 He attempted to drag her away, but she was not 
 to be moved. The second boat was being lowered. 
 He called out to them to stop, but in all the noise 
 and confusion about them no one heard or heeded 
 him. He called out again. 
 
 "Oh, hush!" It was Ethel's voice, through the 
 chaos and the hymn, and she had cautiously freed 
 one hand and passed it affectionately through his 
 arm. She pressed his arm close. He looked down 
 on her dumbly now. The end was at hand. 
 
 "It's it's been a glorious fight, Seth," she 
 panted in her keen emotion. "I I wouldn't have 
 missed it for the world! But I'm all tired and all 
 broken up now, old friend. . . .I'm glad to rest 
 with you!"
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 Paper found by the Executors of the late Dr. Noel 
 Lecth, Henry Barker, and Charles Redwood 
 Sand, and superscribed to be sent by them, 
 unopened, to the Countess Kilburne, Kilburne 
 Castle, Co. Dublin; in the event of her death, 
 to Mrs. Richard Leigh, c/o Jonas Living 
 stone and Bros., Tokio; and in event of her 
 death to Seth Lomack and Sons, Wall Street, 
 New York. 
 
 I, the undersigned, of "Woodlands," Barbados, 
 West Indies, do solemnly declare this to be a faith 
 ful account of how I accomplished my transfor 
 mation from Dr. Ethel Leon to Dr. Noel Leeth. 
 
 I leave this paper for the satisfacton of those 
 members of my family who may survive me. 
 Having failed to succeed as a lady-doctor in the 
 City of New Orleans, U. S. A., where I made my 
 start, and having been forced to realize that sex 
 stood in the way of my advancement, I was for 
 some time at a serious loss what to do for the 
 best. Although not obliged to earn my living, I 
 was far too interested in my profession to abandon 
 it, and far, far too energetic and ambitious to be 
 satisfied to do-practically-nothing in it. Yet, 
 brood over the situation as long and as frequently
 
 276 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 as I would, I could see no solution to my difficulty. 
 While in this distressed and undecided state of 
 mind, I went one evening to the theatre with some 
 friends. The piece was an exaggerated musical 
 comedy, in which the principal female part was 
 played by a man and a superb piece of imper 
 sonation it was. The curtain descended on the 
 first act, and I, forgetful for once of myself and my 
 woes, was placidly and admiringly considering the 
 extraordinary adaptability of the star-impersonat 
 or, when my friend, Nurse Kenworthy, turned to 
 me with a casual remark, which, by unconsciously 
 suggesting to my lulled brain the only possible 
 solution to my temporarily forgotten perplexity, 
 knocked me, for the time being, off my balance. 
 That I should have thought so much of my unpro 
 mising future and then been oblivious of it at the 
 very time that the key to its mystery was being held 
 up before my eyes ! It seemed incredible ! Never 
 mind. My self-shame was quickly lost sight of in 
 my secret and overpowering gratitude to dear 
 Nurse Kenworthy for having, all unwittingly, 
 roused me to a sense of my good fortune by press 
 ing that same key upon me. I showered blessings 
 upon her then, I do so now, I will do so at the 
 last. . . .but she didn't know it, she doesn't know 
 it, in all probability she never will know it. What 
 she said, dear woman, was this : 
 
 "How splendidly that man takes off a woman ! 
 I declare the deception is perfect. See what pains-
 
 EPILOGUE 277 
 
 taking can accomplish ! I wish the women would 
 learn to personate a man as well and most of 
 them could, I am sure, if they'd only take the 
 trouble, consider every detail, as he has. But a 
 woman's man is always so frankly absurd, and she 
 is satisfied with it!" 
 
 She trailed off into some remarks about some 
 patients of mine present, but I could hardly answer 
 her. To see my so long dark and threatening 
 future suddenly and unexpectedly brighten and 
 clear before me was not to be borne without 
 emotion, and I showed mine sadly. 
 
 "This is what / must do, this is what / must 
 do!" I kept saying to myself, over and over again, 
 in reference to my friend's enlightening remarks on 
 the star of the evening my blessings on him too ! 
 Do it as well as he. . . .yes, yes, of course I can! 
 "Simply by considering every detail as he has 
 done!" Only accomplish that, and the career my 
 heart is set on is easily and prosperously mine ! 
 
 With my brain bounding and humming to this 
 tune, I answered Nurse Kenworthy's ensuing ob 
 servations on the Keystones absently, and, auto 
 matically following the motions of her fan, 
 acknowledged their greeting. By this time she 
 and the rest of our party noticed my emotion, but 
 they attributed it to indisposition. They wished 
 me to leave the theatre, but I stoutly refused, 
 making light of the tumult of thought within me. 
 I tried to still it to postpone it until I was alone ;
 
 278 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 but the tumult had passed beyond my control, and 
 thought after thought of increasing magnitude 
 kept breaking over me, with the booming, breath 
 taking violence of the restless waves upon the sea 
 shore. My ears were singing, my mind was con 
 fused, my sight was blurred ! I could not, for my 
 life, tell you a single detail of the last act of that 
 memorable play, although I kept my eyes reso 
 lutely upon the stage from the rising of the curtain 
 to its final fall. One unutterable wish, however, 
 stood out sharp and strong from the chaos within 
 me Oh, to be at home again .... at home and 
 alone. . . .to be able to cease fighting, and give 
 myself up entirely to my deliciously bewildering 
 because promising thoughts give myself up to 
 them without care, because beyond the reach of 
 curious, questioning eyes! 
 
 At last it was so. I was alone in my room at 
 my boarding house, Mrs. Rice's, and, tearing off 
 my things, I sat down to think my purpose out. I 
 thought the night through, but by dawn I had con 
 sidered and arranged for everything. Let me see 
 if I can set down my thoughts consecutively. 
 
 To begin with, I was going to cast away my 
 hampering sex, and become a man. . . .not a 
 woman's stage man, but a man who must pass 
 muster among his fellow-men, and win a place for 
 himself in life's busy throng. Could I do it? I 
 thought so. Nature had kindly given me a fair 
 stature for a woman, an uncompromising figure, a
 
 EPILOGUE 279 
 
 strongly marked face, and large feet and hands. 
 I could pass very well, I thought, as a slender 
 middle-sized young man. Fortunately, I was a 
 good mimic too; I must give special attention 
 henceforth to men's attitudes and mannerisms, and 
 take pains with my voice. Here again Nature had 
 been kind to me, my voice was naturally rather 
 full and deep, and pains could easily make it more 
 so. There was only my one beauty, my hair, to 
 sacrifice. It was long and thick and very straight; 
 I would cut it close, and curl it for further dis 
 guise men have resorted to the curling-tongs 
 before me with far less justifiable excuse ! I would 
 also wear glasses harmless glasses to make me 
 look more important and learned, and bury Ethel 
 Leon the deeper. 
 
 Then as to my name what name should I take? 
 Naturally enough my mind began at once to play 
 with the letters of my own name, and I gradually 
 thought what a capital thing it would be if I 
 could transform my Christian name into a passable 
 surname and my surname into a man's Christian 
 name. There would be less liklihood, in that way, 
 of one name suggesting the other, and I could 
 subtly retain my own name, for which I had a 
 weakness. Fond of my own name! Yes, I cer 
 tainly was, as of an old friend, and I am not 
 singular in this, I think. Certainly I have heard 
 loved and loving wives confess to a longing to 
 hear themselves addressed once more by their
 
 280 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 maiden names. Does this not imply that an affec 
 tion for names is possible, and can be strong? Be 
 that as it may be, it was through this affectionate 
 clinging of mine, abnormal or otherwise, to the 
 name my dear parents had given me, that I eventu 
 ally evolved Noel Leeth. I fell in love with my 
 old familiar name in its strange disguising dress 
 directly, and have never wavered in my allegiance. 
 
 Next came the question on what new field of 
 action should Dr. Noel Leeth disport himself? 
 For, of course, he must have an entirely new field 
 in order to do himself full justice. I quickly de 
 cided on the West Indies, for all I had heard of 
 them from my good friend Mr. Keystone, a native 
 of St. Kitts, had strongly appealed to me I loved 
 warmth and sunshine and pure air, and a simple, 
 quiet mode of living provided it was not stag 
 nant; and I selected Barbados as the most enter 
 prising of the attractive Carribean group. 
 
 Then how should I accomplish my proposed 
 transformation? Instantly I saw the absolute ne 
 cessity of a complete solitude and isolation, and I 
 determined on taking a retired cottage on the plea 
 of starting housekeeping, where, if I were super 
 vised at all in my dangerous and hazardous under 
 taking, it would be entirely my own fault. 
 
 And last came the difficult problem of the name 
 on my medical certificate how was I to deal with 
 that? Dispense with one, and brazen the position 
 out with a plausible lie. No, not if there were any
 
 EPILOGUE 28l 
 
 other alternative. I could not dispense with one 
 without exciting a certain amount of suspicion and 
 distrust, and that wouldn't do; and certainly Dr. 
 Ethel Leon's diploma would damn Dr. Noel Leeth. 
 Surely the vast science of chemistry covered such 
 a simple thing as the removing of ink-writing with 
 out leaving a tell-tale stain ? I must consult one or 
 the other of the several clever chemists among my 
 acquaintances. Nurse Kenworthy's brother was 
 one, and I knew him intimately. It would be easy 
 to find an excuse for the question. Stay ! A story 
 I was reading the other day actually dealt with it 
 Wilkie Collins's "After Dark and Other Stories" 
 was the volume, and "Sister Rose" was the story. 
 Yes, there must be such a prescription after all, 
 or such a careful artist would never have written 
 of it when the whole story hung on it ! Ah ! 
 Well, I would get that prescription on some plea 
 or the other, from Edward Kenworthy, without a 
 moment's unnecessary delay, and, meanwhile, I 
 must study the name as it was written, practise 
 writing it like the forger I meant to be, and copy 
 the false name in its place as like as possible. 
 
 I did it all. On the morning I left Mrs. Rice's, 
 several days later, the certificate was ready, my 
 trunks were packed, the lonely cottage was secured- 
 My trunks, containing all my now useless female 
 apparel, which were thought to have been ex 
 pressed to the cottage, were really expressed to an 
 express office in New York to await my instruc-
 
 282 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 tions and I may say here that I disposed of their 
 contents afterward to one of those convenient em 
 poriums for second-hand clothing. I said good-by 
 at Mrs. Rice's all round, having impressed on 
 every one that they must keep away from me until 
 I was quite settled; that, in my colossal self-con 
 fidence, I wanted no help, and would brook no in 
 terference, and intended to surprise them. There 
 were many hearty allusions to my first house-warm 
 ing, which I had to respond to in kind, and I took 
 my leave forever of these kindly folk. 
 
 I had some shopping to do before proceeding to 
 my new home some momentous shopping ! This 
 shopping, supposed to be entirely in the way of 
 house-furnishing, was principally the securing of 
 my first temporary masculine outfit. It tried my 
 nerves severely, for when I walked into a man's 
 clothing store, and asked to be shown some dark, 
 serviceable ready-made suits, suitable for a slight 
 youth of about twenty, I fancied the civil young 
 man, who attended to me helpfully, must surely 
 guess to what use I intended to put my conveniently 
 "invalid nephew's" suit. I bought a light over 
 coat as well, and I looked to this, seeing that I 
 took care it should be fairly long, to break the 
 shock the loss of my skirts would occasion me. 
 The clerk was profuse in his offers of exchange in 
 case of the non-suitability of either or both pur 
 chases. 
 
 It was easier buying the other things the shirts,
 
 EPILOGUE 283 
 
 collars, cuffs, underclothing, ties, boots, hat, etc. 
 Still, I blessed my jealous care of my late dear 
 father's wardrobe, which made me competent to 
 lay in a complete, temporary masculine outfit to 
 be renewed later, of course, in my new character, 
 in the great wilderness of New York. I was care 
 ful, of course, in making my purchases, to visit 
 only the stores where I was absolutely unknown, 
 and, to avoid particular notice, the parcels were 
 directed to be sent simply to "Miss Leon." Before 
 setting about these vital purchases I had invested 
 in one or two other little things necessary to carry 
 out my intentions, and to cover my day's sojourn 
 in the cottage, for I intended to leave New Orleans 
 that very evening as Dr. Noel Leeth. I now called 
 and withdrew my conveniently portable funds from 
 their places of safe keeping, and my errands in 
 town were all. accomplished. 
 
 So I proceeded to my new abode. I passed an 
 unforgetable day, eating and resting, and posting 
 myself up, by means of books and pamphlets I 
 had provided myself with, as to the journeys by 
 land and sea which lay before me. As soon as 
 dusk approached I made all secure and dark and 
 began my delicate task. It did not take me long 
 to transform Ethel Leon into Noel Leeth, although 
 I did everything with the utmost care. I surveyed 
 the result in the good-sized mirror I had bought 
 surveyed it critically from all points and felt satis 
 fied! How easy it isto disguise one's self beyond
 
 284 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 the passing recognition of one's nearest! The 
 difficulty is to maintain the disguise at constant 
 close quarters. I felt sure my father, chancing 
 upon me in the streets, would have passed me by 
 unknowingly, and, as for the other point, was I 
 not going to flee the danger travel far away from 
 my people and my friends ? 
 
 Well, my disguise perfected, I made things as 
 right and as pleasant as I could in a letter to my 
 landlady, enclosing her another month's rent in 
 lieu of warning -I had advanced one already in 
 lieu of references and bequeathing to her the few 
 articles of furniture I had been obliged to get, to 
 console her for the riddle with which she would be 
 confronted. Then I burnt the clothes I had been 
 wearing, and my hair, and all tell-tale traces, never 
 leaving the fires I had kindled until they had com 
 plete^ done their work. It was dark when I 
 closed and locked the cottage door behind me, 
 slipped the key into the landlady's letter, and regis 
 tered the same at the nearest post-office. I was 
 very nervous, but hopeful and happy. A dread 
 was upon me of meeting someone I knew on my 
 way to the station not that they would recognize 
 me, but that I should not be able to pass them quite 
 naturally however, I was spared that ordeal. 
 
 I was much relieved to find that no one took the 
 slightest notice of me whatever. I caught my 
 train comfortably, and arrived duly in New York. 
 I took the next steamer to Barbados, where I also
 
 EPILOGUE 285 
 
 arrivqd duly. No one, so far, has questioned the 
 bona fides of Dr. Noel Leeth. I will add a line 
 or so to this as time goes on, and anything of im 
 portance happens. 
 
 I have been here now for some years. Success 
 has attended me, thank God! And I am proud 
 and happy in it ah, far more than I can express ! 
 I have built up a thriving practice, and am highly 
 respected and popular. No one has suspected my 
 sex but I have been so careful ! The dread that 
 it may come to light and spoil all is ever upon me, 
 and it makes me cautiously affect the character of 
 a reserved recluse as much as I can without giving 
 offence. I have taught myself to smoke only 
 cigarettes ! and learnt to like it. Dr. Leeth also 
 drinks a little, a very little just enough to make 
 him appear manly. I take the Japan, Brooklyn, 
 and Dublin papers, in order to know at least when 
 any of my kin shuffle off this mortal coil ! The 
 thought of their concern for me is the one drop of 
 alloy in my cup of triumphant joy. . . .but I can 
 not give up my career, I cannot endanger it, even 
 for their dear sakes. How disgusted they would 
 be with me if they knew all, the conventional 
 darlings ! They wouldn't rest until they found 
 some way of bringing what they would term "an 
 unseemly masquerade" to an end. No, no! I 
 must be satisfied. They will forget me. . . .no 
 doubt they have forgotten me.
 
 286 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 I took the New Orleans papers for a while as 
 well. What a consternation I caused! It in 
 terested me hugely to read of it all except Ettie's 
 and Seth's wasted energies, and bitter anxiety. . . . 
 that hurt badly. But I took the papers until I 
 ceased to figure in their pages, and it was unani 
 mously decided that mine was a case of suicide 
 that the waters mysteriously received my body, and 
 jealously refused to part with it. 
 
 This delicious but puzzling climate is rapidly 
 accentuating my disguise I hardly know myself, 
 and I am grateful for it. Again God be thanked 
 I am busy, useful, and beloved. 
 
 ****** 
 
 My Brooklyn paper tells me that Etta is dead ! 
 I have cried in secret over this all out of keeping 
 with the carefully acquired fortitude of Dr. Noel 
 Leeth. The bald announcement of her passing, 
 and nothing more, no hope of anything more, is 
 inexpressively painful to me. My heart hungers 
 for a few details, which might comfort; and 
 picture, in default of them, circumstances which 
 only torture. I am haunted by my precious little 
 sister, who has slipped away from me beyond 
 recall, and without the kiss of parting. I see her 
 in a thousand wounding remembrances, yet always 
 winsome, tender, and engaging. Poor Seth, dear 
 old comrade of my youth ! God help him to bear 
 his loss bravely. Good-by, Ettie, my pretty little 
 darling ! It is only here that I can speak of you,
 
 EPILOGUE 287 
 
 and blot the words out with my rushing tears ; you 
 are nothing in the world, of course, sweetheart, to 
 
 Dr. Noel Leeth! 
 
 ****** 
 
 Seth is here! I came across him at his hotel, 
 where I was visiting a patient. I recognized him 
 at once, although I saw he did not know me. How 
 should he? It is time I gave some description of 
 myself as I now appear. I have exposed myself 
 mercilessly to the tropical sun and heat, and my 
 skin is tanned to tawniness, and dried and wrinkled, 
 and my frizzed hair is thoroughly grizzled, al 
 most white ! I wear a smoke-colored pince-nez in 
 the daytime, and my accent is now a pronounced 
 West Indian drawl. I declare I was proud of 
 myself when I saw how little he was changed, dear 
 boy! Neverthless, and in spite of my natural de 
 light at seeing my dear old friend and brother, I 
 was absurdly and quite uncontrollably panic- 
 stricken by the unexpected encounter, and could do 
 nothing but rush away. He wanted to speak to 
 me, and my heart ached to hear what he had to 
 say but I felt I couldn't risk it until I had my 
 self more under command. I was rude to him, I 
 am afraid, but I felt I had to flee at once or give 
 myself away. Of course I mean to see him again, 
 when I can trust myself, and hear what he has 
 to say. 
 
 I have made my apology to Seth, and he has
 
 288 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 received it perfectly. It is good to talk to him 
 again ! However shall I bear to let him go, poor 
 bereaved wanderer? To my surprise he wants to 
 see my patient at the hotel, but I cannot let him 
 do so. At first he said he thought she might be 
 a friend to whom, as she was ill and alone, he 
 might be of some service; then, when he found 
 me unsympathetic, he confessed to a deeper motive 
 and begged me to grant him another interview. 
 Of course I will ! I can't resist seeing as much of 
 him, and keeping him as close to me, as possible. 
 I am savagely hungry over him, as a bit of the 
 dear, long-abandoned but unforgetable past. I 
 have invited him to dine and spend to-morrow 
 evening with me. 
 
 He has come and gone. He is looking for me! 
 Looking for me with the dogged persistence of a 
 dauntlessly obstinate man, with no other interest 
 in life. He does not believe in the suicide theory 
 he thinks I am alive; and, if he is wrong and I 
 am dead, he still means to find out how I died. 
 I tremble while I write it .... how will it all 
 end? He hasn't the faintest suspicion of me I 
 don't see how he can have ! but he thinks my 
 patient at his hotel may prove to be me! I must 
 let him see her to relieve his mind I have pro 
 mised to, when I can do so without disturbing her. 
 I have done my best to convince him that she is a 
 stranger, but unsuccessfully, I fear. It grieves me
 
 EPILOGUE 289 
 
 to see him suffering unnecessarily, but what can 
 I do? I am afraid she will die. 
 
 My patient is dead and Seth's heart is at rest. 
 I could only show her to him dead after all it 
 was my first opportunity. He suffered hugely 
 before he looked at her, and so did I. Well, the 
 episode is finished, but I know the chance acquain 
 tanceship of Dr. Noel Leeth and Mr. Seth Lomack 
 is going to be confirmed. We are mutually drawn 
 to each other how could it be otherwise? He 
 does not know me, and I am not in the least afraid 
 that he will; nevertheless, I shall continue to be 
 very cautious with him, because there is sometimes 
 a puzzled, intent expression in his eyes when he 
 looks at me, which, if I do not exactly fear, I do 
 not care to see. 
 
 Time creeps on. Seth is still looking for me, 
 against all Dr. Leeth's protestations of the absurd 
 ity of it. He has threshed out Barbados, and is 
 now exploring the other islands. But he has made 
 Barbados his headquarters, and is never very long 
 away from here. We are now fast friends. At 
 times I see I puzzle him; at times he makes me a 
 little nervous. But the truth is safe from him, I 
 am sure. Oh, if he would but cease to seek me, 
 and be satisfied to live on here my friend! It 
 would be sweet, 
 19
 
 290 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 Addle and Dickie Leigh are here too ! Addie's 
 health has been failing for some time, and they 
 have come here for the benefit of the warmer 
 climate and to see Seth. I have been asked to 
 attend her Seth asked me if I would mind! 
 Mind? I am just crazy to see and hear her 
 again .... I can't possibly refuse the temptation, 
 although perhaps it would be beter not to run the 
 risk. I am decidedly nervous at the prospect of 
 meeting her, in spite of my confidence in my trans 
 formation. A woman's intuition is so keen and 
 strong! But I must go to her, I simply can't 
 keep away. 
 
 I have seen her and him. It was so funny to 
 be only just professionally interested and reassur 
 ing, when every nerve in my body tingled to take 
 her in my arms and cover her pretty faded face 
 with eager kisses, but I managed it somehow. 
 There is nothing seriously wrong with her; she is 
 only completely run down; I have no fear of her 
 not soon rallying and making a complete recovery. 
 Just now she is very weak and dozy; she hardly 
 noticed me. Dickie Leigh has changed very much 
 too; and he was not, I thought, very favorably 
 impressed with Dr. Noel Leeth. Fickle man ! 
 He used to be very fond of Ethel Leon. 
 
 Addle and I are great friends, and she doesn't 
 know me ! Still, I think it necessary to take twice
 
 EPILOGUE 291 
 
 as many precautions with her as I do with Seth. 
 For instance, my visits are always very brief and 
 not too frequent, and my smoke-colored glasses and 
 West Indian drawl are always very much to the 
 fore. She wants me to call oftener and to stay 
 longer with her, dear heart, but I daren't so I 
 plead professional engagements. She is almost 
 well again, and they are going away soon. 
 Heigho ! I don't know whether to be grieved or 
 relieved, the strain is so great! 
 
 I have been guilty of a grave indiscretion, and 
 its consequences have been severe. This is how 
 it happened. Addie and Dickie gave a farewell 
 dinner-party one night to the friends they have 
 made here, and the next morning I found Addie 
 very much exhausted by the fatigue and the addi 
 tional trial of a sleepless night from neuralgia. I 
 sent her in a sleeping powder, after recommending 
 her to go to bed again. I called again in the after 
 noon, and found her alone in her sitting room, fast 
 asleep one the sofa. She had taken the powder 
 evidently, but, wilful girl, had not gone back to 
 bed, and here she was fully dressed in a deep re 
 pose. I stole up to her and looked down on her 
 intently. I spoke to her quietly, and she lay 
 as before. I touched her face and hair gently, 
 and lingeringly, without disturbing her in the 
 least. Then I obeyed the strong impulse which 
 suddenly took complete possession of me, and
 
 292 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 stooped and tenderly kissed the unconscious face. 
 And, in that instant, I was aware that Seth and 
 Dickie were standing horror-stricken in the door 
 way ! I was strangely enough instinctively aware 
 of it, for my back was toward them and I heard 
 no sound but the closing of the door, as I turned 
 and faced them. The jealous, hot-tempered little 
 husband was infuriated at the doctor's presump 
 tion. Oblivious of his sleeping wife, he advanced 
 upon me with ready uplifted arm and blazing eyes. 
 Then, as I stolidly awaited his attack, though in 
 wardly cursing myself hotly for my reckless folly, 
 I saw Seth spring forward and seize my threaten 
 ing enemy fiercely, and heard his ominously sup 
 pressed voice utter: 
 
 "If you strike him;, I'll break every bone in your 
 skin!" 
 
 In the sudden pause which now prevailed Dick 
 and I stared at Seth's white, quivering face in 
 amazement; then I recollected myself, and made 
 my excuses. 
 
 "An old man's privilege....! meant nothing 
 but fatherly regard. . . .had every respect for 
 them both. . . .hoped I was understood. . . . 
 begged to apologize and withdraw, and would cer 
 tainly not intrude on them again," etc. 
 
 Something to this effect I stuttered, and then 
 made my exit. Seth followed me to apologize 
 for presuming to fight my battles for me ! I own 
 I did not like his attitude. Such warmth was all
 
 EPILOGUE 293 
 
 out of keeping with the circumstances. It com 
 pletely unnerved me. However, I passed it over 
 as well as I could. Seth is an impulsive, chival 
 rous fellow, and I must not forget that I am a frail 
 old man as Richelieu says "A very weak old 
 
 They are gone, dear Addie, and naughty, thick 
 headed Dick! Of course I kept my word and 
 never called on them after the scene with Dick, 
 but accident favored me and I met them before 
 they departed. It was a keen satisfaction to be 
 able to wish Addie Godspeed, and I was glad, too, 
 that Dick shook hands with me. 
 
 ****** 
 
 I am not feeling well have indeed been feeling 
 badly for a long time. I fear, unless I take a 
 thorough change and a long rest, I shall break 
 down altogether. So I have decided on a sea- 
 voyage and I shall go first to England. Seth, I 
 am delighted to discover, intends to go with me. 
 All my preparations are made, so good-by, little 
 paper, lest we meet not again. If you only suc 
 ceed in making those dear ones who survive me 
 understand and forgive me, you will have served 
 my purpose well. 
 
 ETHEL LEON, 
 Alias NOEL LEETH.
 
 294 A STRANGE RECORD 
 
 NOTE BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 The main incident of this story is founded upon 
 a fact. 
 
 I have met a lady who knew Dr. Noel Leeth 
 intimately for many years, and I conversed with 
 her upon the subject of this narrative. She 
 solemnly assured me that no suspicion of the truth 
 ever crossed her mind. The sex of the original of 
 Dr. Leeth was not discovered until death.
 
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