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Show iMME MUMS H 'AUTHOR OF "THE JUNGLE" eemed to me somehow that H must be wrong of me to let go of mywlf la that . way a if I had so right to pamper myself ad indulge my own feelings. It was not that I wished to forget what wrong things I have done or keep from suffering because' of them; yet it seemed to me that- the' fact that I was wretched and frightened was no excuse ex-cuse for my doing no good for the rest of my life. When I have thought about my duty before, it has always been my chool-girl 's task of studying and practising prac-tising music, but that is not at all what I 'want now, for I cannot bear to think of -such things while the-memory of Arthur Ar-thur is in my mind. I need something that is not for myself, Mr. Howard, and I find myself thinking that it should be something that I do not like to do." To Be Conttnaad.) ... , . Copyright, j; ; even think of peace again until we have found Arthur IV , , .... . CHAPTER Xli i "X fntitire and raclou light ba aaeka, Shy to iUumine; and I aeek it, too. This deea not come with houses or with gold, . With, place, with honor, and flattering erewt . 'Tie not in the world market bought and old. Three days passed by after Helen had returned to her father, during which the girl stayed by herself most -of the time. When the breaking eft or her engagement en-gagement was known, many of her old friends came to see her, but the hints that they dropped did not move her to any confidences; she felt that it would not be possible for her to find among 1 them; anv understanding of her present moods. Her old life, or rather the life to which she had been looking forward, seemed to her quite empty and shallow, and there was nothing, useful that, she knew of to do except to offer .to help her father in such ways as she could. She drew back into her own heart, giving giv-ing most of her time to thinking about Mr. Howard and Arthur, and . no one but her father knew why it was that she was so subdued and silent. It was only on the third morning, when there came a letter from . Mr. Howard saying that he was coming out that afternoon to sea her, that Helen seemed . to be interested and stirred again. She went to the window more than onee to look for him: and when mt last her friend had. arrived, and the two were seated in the parlor, she said to him without waiting for any circumstance, circum-stance, "I have been wishing very much to see you, Mr. Howard, Decauee there is something. I am anxious to talk to you about, if you will let me.". fI am sorry to say that it is about myself," she went on," when the other had expressed his willingness to hear 'her, "for I want to ask you to help me, and to give me some advice. I ought to have asked you the questions I am going to before this, but the last time I saw you I could think about nothing but Arthur. They only came to me after you had gone.' "What are' they t" asked the man. "Yon must know, Mr. Howard," said Helen, "that it 'is you who have shown ra the wrongness of all that I was doing in my lire, and stirred me with desire to do better. I find now that such thoughts have always been so far from me that the wish to be right is all that I have, and I do not know at all what to do. It seemed to me thst I would rather talk to you about it than anv one, even my own father. I do not know whether that is just right, but you do not mind my asking jou, do you 1 ' ' "It is hit wish to help you In every way that t can," was the gentle re-! re-! sponse. "I will tell you what I havs been thinking," said Helen. "I have been so unhappy in the last three days that I have done nothing at all; bnt it CHAPTER XL - (Continued.) t r It was a great relief to Helen; and Vhiie we know "not what emotions it 1 may cause to the reader, it is perhaps 7 i-well to say that he may. likewise pay '. hia last respects to the worthy matron, i who will not take part in the humblft i events of which tte rest of our story" - I must be composed. Fox Helen was going home, home to the poor little parsonage of Oakdale! 1 She . was going with a leeling' of relief ! in her heart second only to her sorrow; . ' the more - she had come to feel how - shallow and false was the splendor that , had allured her the more she had found ; herself drawn to her old home, with its memories that were so dear and so beautif uL She felt that there she I might at least think of Arthur all that I she chose, and meet with nothing to 1 affront her grief; and also she found . j herself thinking of her father's love with a new kind of hunger. . When she arrived, she found Mr. Davis waiting for her - with a very anxious look upon his countenance; he ' had stopped at-Hilltown on his way, and learned about Arthur's disappearance, disappear-ance, and then beard from Elizabeth what she knew about Helen's engagement. engage-ment. The girl flung herself into his arms, and afterward, quite overcome by, the emotions that surged up within her, sank- down upon her knees before him ! and sobbed out tbe whole story, , her heart bursting with sorrow and con-' con-' ! trition; as he lifted her up and kissed v 1 her and whispered his. beautiful words of pardon and comfort, Helen found it ! a real home-coming indeed. .. Mr. Davis was also able to calm her i worry little by telling her that he ! did not think it possible that Arthur j would keep kja whereabouts secret from l him very lonti " When I find him, dear J child," he said, "it will all be well arain, for we will believe in love, you Vb1 I, and not care what the great ' 8av about it. I think I could ! bSfwrll content that you should marry . oia? dear Arthur. " j"But, father, I do not love him," ! put in Helen faintly. "That may come in time," 6aid the ! other, kissing her tenderly and 6miling. "There is no need to talk of it, for you ' are too young to marry, anyway. And in the meantime we must, find him." There was another long silence after that. Helen sat down on the sofa beside be-side heT father and put her arms about , him and leaned her head upon his bos-' bos-' om, drinking in deep draughts of his pardon and love. She told him about Mr. Howard, and of the words of coun-'. coun-'. sel which he had .given her, and how . he was coming to see her again. Afterward Af-terward the conversation came back to : Arthur and his love for Helen, and then Mr. Davis went on to add something that caused Helen t openjier eyes very wide and gaze at nun in wonder. "There is still another reason for (wishing to find him soon," he said, ' ' for something else has happened to- day that he ought to know about." What is it!" asked Helen. "I don't know that I ought to tell you about it just now," saidthe other, . "for it is a very sad story. But some cne was here to see Arthur this morning - some one whom I never expected to 6ee again in all mv life." . "To see Arthur!" echoed the girl m perplexitv. "Who could want to see Arthur!" As her father went on she gave a'great start. "It was his mother." said Mr. Davis. And Helen stared at him, gasping for breath as she echoed the words, "His mother!" .. , , "You may well be astonished," said the clergyman. "But the woman proved beyond doubt that she was really the person who left Arthur with me." "You did not recognize her!" "o, Helen, for it has been twenty-one twenty-one or two vears since I saw her,' and he has changed verv much since then. But she told me that in all that time she has never once lost sight of her ! boy, and has been watching all that he did." "Where has she beenf" "She did not tell me," the other a n-r n-r f wered, " but I fancy in New York. The Jfcoor woman has lived a very dreadful -Jrtfe, a life of such wretched wickedness TAat wa cannot even talk about it; I 'think I never heard of more cruel suffering.' suf-fering.' I was glad that you were not bre to see her, or know about it until sfter she was gone. She said that 6he bad come to see Arthur once, because she was going away to die." "To die!" exclaimed the girl in hor- r"Yes," said Mr. Davis, "to die. She looked as if she could not live many davs longer. I begged her to let me see thai she was provided for, but she said that she was going to find her war back to her old .home, somewhere far off in the countrj-, and she would hear of nothing else, t She would not tell the name of tbe, place, nor her own name, but she left a letter, for Arthur, and Tseeeed me to find hi mand give it to ; himV so that he might come and speak to her once if he cared to do so. She begged me to forgive her for the trouble trou-ble she had caused me, and to prav that God would forgive her, too, and then she bade me farewell and dragged t herself away." j - . . , . . i Mr. Davis stopped, and Helen sat for a long time staring ahead of her, with a very frightened look in her eyes, . -and -thinking, "Oh, we must find Ar- thur!" Then she turned to her father, i her li?s" trembling and her countenance very pale. "Tell me," she said in a low, awe-stricken voice, "a long time - ago some one must have wronged that woman." ..' , . ,, . . "Yes, dear," said Mr. Lavis, "when she was,, not even as old as you are. And the man who wronged her was worth millions of dollars, Helen", and could have saved her -from 11 her suffering suf-fering with a few of them if he cared to. No one but God knows bis name, for the woman would not tell it." "Helen sat for a moment or two storing stor-ing at him wildly, and then suddenly she buried her head in his bosom and ,4nrst into tears, sobbing so eruellv that ir father was sorry he had told her t fcat he had. He knew why that story moved her so, and it wrung his heart "to think of it--that this child of his had put upon her own shoulders some of that burden of the guilt of things, and mnst suffer; beneath It, perhaps for the rest of her days. -" When- Helen gazed up at him again there was the old-frightened look upon her face, and all his attempts to com- "' fort hen were useless.- "No, no!V she whispered.- 'No, father 1 I annot i j i v ' ' ' -; ; ' ' - e. , ' ' ' ' r ' ' V . |