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Show ' . .. . ,5MS MUMS AUTHOR OF "THE JUNGLE" it his own fault, and 'I don't eee.fliT I should let it make me ill. And it's the same with the other thing. I could have been happy without all that wealth if I'd never eeen it, and now I know I'll never be happy againoh, I know it!" f ' . And Helen began once more pacing up and down. - "I never was this way before In my life,M she cried, with increasing vexation, vexa-tion, "and I won't have it! " - She clenched her hands Angrily, struggling within herself to shake off what was tormenting her. But she might as well have tried to shake off a mountain from her shoulders. - Hers had been none of the stern experience that gives power and command to the character, and of the kind of energy that she needed she had none, and not even a thought of it. She tried only to forget her troubles in some of her old pleasures, and when she found that she eould not read, and that the music she tried to play sounded hollow and meaningless, mean-ingless, she could- only fling herself down upon the sofa with a moan. There, realizing her own impotence, she sank into dull despair, unable longer to realize the difficulties which troubled her, and with only one certainty in her mind that she was more lost and helpless help-less than she had ever thought it pos-gible pos-gible for her to be. (To Be Continued.) : CHAPTER VI. r ' - '(Continued.) " ' ' . - The effect surprised him, for the lire which: had burned Helen and inflamed ' her cheeks had been ambition, and am : bitJon''alone. . It was the man's money I - that' the wanted, and' she was stirred wifh' ao less horror than ever at the thought of the price to te paid. - There-' There-' fore the touch of his rough mustache nam her cheek acted upon, her as an Setric' ontact, and all the shame in jr nature burst into flame. She tore herself loose with almost a scream. "No, no! " she cried. "Stopt" Mr. Harrison gazed at. her in astonishment aston-ishment for a moment, scarcely able to find a word to say. "Miss Davis," .he protested, Helen -what is toe matter t" "You had no right to do that!" she , cried, trembling with anger. . "Helen!" protested the other, "have you not just promised tft' be my wife!" And the words made the girl turn white and drop her eyes in fear. "Yes, yes," she panted helplessly! "but you should not it is too soon!, ' The other stood watching her. perhaps divining a little of the cause of ner agiJ , tation, and feeling, at any rate, that lie could be satisfied for the present with his success. He answered very humbly, "Perhaps you are right: 1 am very sorry for offending - you, and. stood silently waithig until the girl's emotions had subsided a little and she had looked at him again. "You will pardon me!" he asked. "Yes, yes" sbe said, weakly, "only ' "And you will not forget the promise prom-ise you have made me!,J- - ""No," she answered, and then she gated anxiously toward the door. "Let us go," she said, imploringly; "it is all so hard for me to -realize, and I feel so very faint. " The two went slowly down the hall-Mr. hall-Mr. Harrison not -even venturing to offer her bis arm. Outside tbey stoi for a minute upon .the high steps, H Ja leaning, against a pillar and brjuthing very hard. She dared not raise her eyes to the man beside her. :' "You' wish to go now!" he asked please," she leplied, "I think bo: it is very late." 'Helen scarcely knew what happened during the drive home, for she passed it in. a half -dazed condition, almost . overwhelmed by what , she had done. She answered mechanically to all Mr. Harrison's remarks about his arras cements ce-ments of the house and his plans else-" else-" where, but all reference to Bis wealth seemed powerless to waken in her a trace of the exultation that had swept heT away before, while every allusion to their personal relationship was like the touch of fire. Her companion seemed to divine the faet, and again he begged her anxiously not to forget the promise she had given. Helen an-sewered an-sewered faintly that she would not, but the words were haid for her to say, ' and it was an infinite relief to her to - see Oakdale again, and to feel that the strain would soon be over, for the . time at any rate. "I shall stay somewhere In the neighborhood," neigh-borhood," said Mr. Harrison. "You Will let me see you often, Helen, will you not!" . , "Yes," answered Helen mechanically. mechanical-ly. ' "I will come tomorrow," said the other, "and take you driving if you like. I promised to go back and lunch with your aunt today, as I thought I was to return to the city." In a moment mo-ment more the carriage stopped in front of Helen's home, and the girl, without raiting for any one to assist her, leaped out, and with a hasty word of parting ran into the house. She heard the horses trotting away, and then the door closed behind ner, and she stood in the Dark, silent hallway. She saw no one, and after gazing about her for a moment, mo-ment, she stole into her little music- - room and flung herself down upon the Copyright. couch, where she lay with" her head buried in her bands. It was a long time afterward when she glanced up again.- She was trembling trem-bling all over ana her face was white. "In heaven's name, how can I have done it!" she whispered hoarsely to herself. "How cat. I have done itf And what am I to do nowt" CHAPTER VH. "Wie Konusit'a, dsss da sa trsurig bist. Da alias froh erscbeintt Man sieht dir's an den Augen an, Gewiss, da hast g eweint ?; Helen might have spent the afternoon after-noon in that situation, tormenting herself her-self with . the doubts and fears that filled her .mind, had it not been for the fact that her presence was discovered by Elizabeth, the servant, who came in to clean the room. The latter, of course, was astonished to see her, but Helen was in no mood to vouchsafe explanations. explana-tions. ' "Just leave me alone," she said. "I do not feel very welL And don't tell father I am here yet." "Your father, Miss Helen!" exclaimed ex-claimed the woman; "didn't you get his letter!" , "What letter t" And then poor Helen was made aware of another trouble. "Mr. Davis wrote Mrs. Eoberts last night," answered the servant. "He's gone away." "Awayl" eried the gixL "Where tol" "To New York." Then the woman went on to explain that Mr. Davis had been invited to take the place of a friend who was ill, and had left Oak-dale Oak-dale for a week. Helen understood that the letter must have reached her aunt after her own departure. "Dear me!" the girl exclaimed, "how unfortunate! I don't want to stay here alone." But afterwards it flashed over her that if she did she might be able to have a week - of quiet to regain her self-possession. "Mr. Harrison couldn't expect to visit me if . I were alone." she thought. "But then. I suppose he could, too," she added nastily, "if I am engaged to him I And I could never stand thatl" ' "Miss Helen," said the servant, who had been standing and watching her anxiously, "vou look very ill. Is anything any-thing the matter! " "Nothing," Helen answered, "only I want to rest. Leave me alone, please, Elizabeth." "Are you going to stay!" the other asked. "I must fix up your room." "I'll have to stay," said Helen. "There 'a nothing else to do." "Have you had lunch yett" "No, but I don't want any; just let me be, please." Helen expected the woman to protest, but she did not. She turned away, and the girl sank back upon the couch, and covered her face again. "Everything has gone wrong!" she groaned to herself. "I know I shall die of despair. I don't want to be here all alone with Mr. Harrison coming com-ing here. Dear me, I wish I had never seen him!" And Helen's nervous impatience grew upon her. until she could stand it no more, and she sprang up and began be-gan pacing swiftly up and down the room. She was still doing that when she heard a step in the hall and saw the faithful servant in" the doorway with a tray of luncheon. Elizabeth asked no questions about matters that did not concern her, but she regarded this as her province, and she woud pay no attention to Helen's protests. "You'll be ill if you don't eat," she vowed; "you look paler than I ever saw you. And so the girl sat down to attempt to please her, Elizabeth standing by and talking to her in the meantime'; but Helen was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she scarcely heard a word until the woman chanced to ask one question: "Did you hear about Mr. Arthur!" And Helen gazed up at her. "Hear about him!" she said, "hear what about him!" "He's very ill," said Elizabeth. Helen gave a start. "HIP she gasped. "Yes," said Elizabeth. "I thought you must know. Mr. Davis was over to see him yesterday." "What is the matter!" "The doctor said he must have been fearfully run down, and he was out in the storm and caught a cold, and he's been in a very bad way, delirious and unconscious by turns for two or three days. ' ' Helen was staring at the servant in a dumb fright. "Tell me, Elizabeth," she cried, scarcely able to say the words, "he isn't dangerously ill" "The danger is over now," the other answered, "so the doctor said, or else Mr. Davis would never have left. But he's in a bad way, and it may be some time-before he's up again." Perhaps it was the girl's overwrought over-wrought condition that made her more easily alarmed just then, for she was trembling all over as she heard those words, bhe had forgotten Arthur almost al-most entirely during the past two days, and he came back to her at the moment as another thorn in her conscience. "Mr. Davis said he wrote you to go and see him,"' went on the servant. "Shall you, Miss Helen!" . "II don't know," said Helen, faintly. "I'll see." As a matter of fact, she knew that she almost certainly would not go to see Arthur after what had just passed. Eves to have him find out about it was something of which she simply could not think. She felt dread enough of having to tell her father of what had occurred with Mr. Harrison, and to see Arthur, even though he did not know about it, aha knew was not in her power. "Perhaps I ought not to have told you about it until after you had had your lunch; you are not eating anything, any-thing, Mi.s Helen." "I don't want anything," said Helen mournfully; "take it now, please, Elizabeth, Eliz-abeth, and please do not trouble me any more. I have great deal to worry me." When the woman had left the room Helen shut the door and then sat down on a chair, staring blankly before her. There was- a mirror just across the room end her own image caught her eye, startling her by its pale and haggard hag-gard look. "Dear me, it's dreadful!" she cried aloud, springing up. "Why did I let people trouble me in this way! I can't help Arthur, and I eouldn 't have helped him in the beginning. It 'a every bit of |