Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine, Vol. 107 No. 3 — page 125: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

. house—lemme run an’ see out the front parlor. Ill be right back.” She trotted out as fast as she could and was back al- most at once. “It’s one of them big lemonsines and a swell gentleman in it. He seen me at the window and asked if Miss Bowles was here. Get up, sweety. I'll tell him to wait till you _ dress.”’ Esther tried to stop her. “Tl be right back, deary,” Ma answered from the hall. “Mister,” she called, “can you wait kindly a minute? She’s got to dress. It won’t take her a minute seein’ she’s used to makin’ quick changes, an’ I'll help her.” “ Tell her I'll get Mr. Grenville, and will be back in about ten minutes. Say to her that I came early because I decided to go over to Newark first.” _“ All right, [ll tell her.” ' Ma wént back, all excitement. ‘““T can’t go, Ma—lI’m too upset.” “‘ Sure you can! What’s to hinder you?” She began taking off Esther’s kimono. ‘Oh, Ma, please! I can’t go!” “¢ There, your dress is buttoned. Where's your shoes? You got ’em on.’ (T4 Ma, |” : Honk! Honk! Honk! “‘ There he is!” Ma as nearly ran to the window as was possible for her. ‘She'll be right down, sir — she’s all ready. -+ust got to put on her hat.” She trotted back.:: Esther had not moved. “Where’s your hat, deary? Here, put it on. Such a sweet one. They’re waiting, sweety, two swell gents.” Mechanically Esther put on the little poke bonnet. Ma pressed her gloves and the silver purse into her hands and pushed her out of the door and down the steps. \ CHAPTER XVIII. THE WORLD WILL I GIVE THEE. “VV HAT's wrong, Esther?” Philip Gren- ville had been studying her all the way out of town. The two sat together in the back of’ the lorig-bodied car. “Wrong?” she repeated vaguely, without turning her head. ‘ THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE. ABT “Ves” ‘* Nothing.” “Come now, child, that won’t do. Some- thing is wrong—very wrong. I’m not curi- ous, but I feel in a way responsible if ‘things -go wrong with you.” “That’s why I’d rather not tell you.” She ran a hand through her hair. “You admit something és wrong, and that I am responsible. Don’t you think I am the one to help you out of it?” “There isn’t any help you can give.” “As bad as that?” She made no reply. Philip thought long. Once or twice he turned to look at the deli- cate girl at his side. He recalled the rusty suit he had seen her wear on the road, and he marveled at the change clothes can make. He looked ‘at the full, white brow, the sensitive mouth and nose. There was some- thing fine within this girl who proudly fore- bore.to- babble into the ears of a sympa- thetic listener; accepted her troubles in tearless silence, asking no help; depending as she had once said she did, on no one, but herself and God. Herself and God! Here the man’s thought paused. Such nonsense! And yet, was it not a good thing for this. girl, alone in life, proud and self-contained, to believe that she had but to go away in secret and tell all her woes and perplexities to an All-wise, All-powerful Being who who would immediately adjust them? What matter to her iXGod never heard? The help she received lay in the throwing off of the load—the shifting of the burden. And he, Philip Grenville, had robbed her of her only prop. He had taught her faith staggering under a great.blow administered ‘by her feltows, and he had with his club of realism, completed the death they had “ Esther,” said Grenville at length, “I —helped you to get rid of God. I’m not sure I did you a service. Let me give you what I have in place of God.” ‘““What’s that?” she asked. “ Education. A world light.” Like a flash she turned. Her eyes shone. Her hands came together on her breast. “It’s what I always wanted,” she breathed. ‘ Always—” ELOOO = O) (C(O) S (C(O) mM