Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 40, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 November 1907 — A SMILING VILLAIN. [ARTICLE]

A SMILING VILLAIN.

By VIOLET M. FLINN.

CHAPTER XXllr—(Continued.) Tbe Professor drew a long breath, like ft swimmer on the edge of the flood, then, •gain like a swimmer, plunged deep Into the seas of eloquence. The compromise had been faithfully carried out, had forked in every respect most admirably, but he.wished, while atill entertaining the utmost regard and admiration for Miss Bercsford, to be permiteed to withdraw lis pretensions to her hand. * Aileen gasped incredulously, she could hardily believe her ears, and she stared at the unfortunate man as if she believed him to have suddenly lost his senses. But although he grew very red, his gase did not falter nor did his tongue grow confusJ ■■ .. . . . “Since I came here I have changed a great many opinions I formerly held,” he said.frankly, while Aileen listened dazed and bewildered and altogether swept out of her depth by the sudden unexpected turn of fate's wheel. “I am afraid I ■lost be honest, confess, at the risk of incurring your displeasure, that in Cambridge it was your intellect, your very jars and uncommon abilities, that appeal«d most strongly to me, and it was with the idea of aiding your powers and maturing your attainments by my own work in the same paths that I proposed to you. You see I was under the disadvantage of being an imperfect being, a lonely man,” fie said, with a touch of unconscious pathos. "I had never known what affection really meant, 1 had never concerned myself with such matters, and 1 thought that the relations I proposed were all - that wcrtLJKH’cssary to husband and wife. But then I came here, inßrThe midst-of-your family life, amongst your intimate friends, and it was farced in upon me that my views of life were one-sided and distorted, and slowly but surely I came to the conclusion that where I had intended an honor I had only given an insult. I nq. longer wonder that you should have hesitated to accept the meager portion 1 offered when you had known ■llt'ViiAamn ... ' , ■ •

CHAPTER JvXII. In all the years she had known him Aiken had never liked him so much as BOW. “Btrt indeed.' she protested, finding her voice at length, “I felt greatly honored, and I hesitated because of my own unworthiness to join my life, my labors, with those of one so clever and far-famed as you!” “Yes, that was it—that was the fault.. You looked upon me simply as an intellectual partner, and you tried to close your eyes to my utter unsuitability in •tber ways. Not content with deceiving myself, I tried to deceive you. lam only thankful Rmt my eyes were not opened too late. My child"—and he spoke in the quiet, "protecting voice he would have used towards a child —“never be persuaded to believe that life can be lived selfish isolation as mine has been, tine may set a goal before one's eyes, it may b£ lawful, it may* be right, but so long us thoughts or self aloue animate one that goal can never be well reached. We are social animals, dependent each on the other, and true lives are those that bring out the best in ourselves and the best in others. Shut up In my own rooms, absorbed in my own interests, I have lost my life, I have passed by opportunities that might hav4 made me what I shall never be now. I thought the pride of intellect, the lust of fame,' the desire of ambition made a man's life. I have grasped at the shadow and l have lost the substance. And I would warn yonjgainst such a mistake. If it is bad for a man, it is still worse for a woman. Satisfied fame, great renown, do not make life as it was intended to be lived. We must not remain on the hill tops, we must go down to the plains. The great hio-' tire power of life is love —love of our Creator, love for humanity, love of inditidoality. It is as men and women, not intellectual machines, we do our work in the world."

“But rarely you, of all men, do not despise intellect?” “Indeed I do not, and I do not swerve me iota from my original ideas on that point.” He grew very earnest, almost solemn, in his eagerness to disabuse her mind of the mistake. “I am as strong and as uncompromising a supporter of the woman's cause aa ever, because I would have every power sharpened, every energy quickened into ita best and highest power. The more highly developed a man or woman is, the better use will he or she ism tnat I woul<J oppose—not individuality. Let each man and woman develop those special powers and abilities that belong to each, and so we shall arrive at perfection, biit each power must he equally developed, not one specialized until the others have become atrophied. And that b the mistake I was going to make and to consent to your making also. I hope Oat you will forgive me, that you will believe in the sincerity of my respect and admiration for yon, and that we may remain as good—no. better friends than wo have ever been.” “I would have married yqu,” Ail eon said with a rueful smile some time later whta the sight of the approaching steamer made them remember the time was growing short. Now that they had spoke# frankly and unreservedly to each other ■ho was beginning to see the splendid character, the high principles that wet—hidden under a. shell of nervous mannerinao and boOWish learning. “Yes, and boon miserable for the reat of your life,” he answered. “No, I hope there la n bettor Cato in store for you. Too are very young. Go through with your tripos and then see in which way your high capabilities and powers can be beet utilised. You were born to be a lender, I think. I hope you wilf marry Or) prove to the world what a splendid wife and capable mother a 'blue-stocking' and advanced woman can make.” ahull never marry,” Aileen mid abruptly- Yfcey were going quickly up the pier steps, and she hoped Lewisson would Mat that *% was the exertion that

brought the color to her face. lie had been very careful to say nothing that would lead her to suspect that his vague, unformed ideas had taken 'si. ipe as a result of his unwilling eavesdropping the night before when fighting against her love, Aileen had declared her ambition stronger. “I hope you will marry some gbodfellow,” Ijewisaon responded. "He need not be clever, you have brains enough for a dozen. Yes, I still hope you may know that happiness consists in more than the gratification of a personal ambition. For I would not hope such a thing for you," he added almost solemnly, as they paused to say “Good-by.” "If I did not believe you would, in such a position, married to such a man, be doing your beat work.” There was a queer little smile about Aileen's mouth as she walked leisurely homewards, thinking deeply. At the avenue gate she met Moyra coming home from a hurried visit to their old nurse. "\Vell?’’ Moyra asked. "Has he gone? Is—is ”.^ Aileen burst into a laugh that waa almost hysterical. . _ , “He has goffc,,,my dear, and it amounts to this. He has, jilted me. You behold in me a blighted heart. And I never felt ~so relieved in all 'my life," she added, rather inconsequeptly. As they walked slowly up the avenue she told Moyra the substance of what had been said. There were one or two parts she did not consider it necessary to tell—But Moyra had the light gained the previous evening to guide her, and she thoroughly endorsed the professor’s views, -although not regarding them from Aileen's lofty standpoint. Moyra's conclusions were reached practically, Aileen's philosophically. "He was quite right,” Moyra said. "To marry without love is wicked. Besides, when there is—some one else — ; —” Aileen went very red and pretended she did not hear. "After all,” she said loftily, "he would nltt-aya finve hwn.miirt fatUOUS and_cl»¥--erer than I. As it is, 1 can shine alone now, and my little chndle no light. But he is a good man, Moyra. I don’t think I ever realized before that die was a man"—with a little laugh. "I wish he would marry Bride. But things always go by contraries in this world"— disregarding Moyra’s quick protest. “A. is madly in love with 8., who looks only at C., who prefers A.” "But Billy’s in love with you,” Moyra -said, —seeing only—her own—reading of Aileen's parable. "And I am not in love with Billy,” Aileen retorted, with such an angry flashing glance that Moyra, utterly confused, could only say, "I thought you were,” an excuse that by no means relieved the strain. cl But before Aileen could make a fitting and scathing reply that would at once pulverize any such theories a diversion came. Their approach had been seen and three figiiteg appeared at' the hall door. "The school room crew has gone crazy,” Aileen murmured, as a howl of dismay arose from the girls when they saw Gerry vault over the railings that separated the circle and the field that bordered the avenue, thereby effecting a short cut to the newcomers. Vera and Delda, with no thought of dignity, at once engaged in a desperate race, ending in a dead heat, with the runners unable to do more than gasp inarticulately. It was Lulu, the tortoise toiling in the rear, who shrieked the news triumphantly in her thin treble. "Such a thing! You'll never guess. There's been a robber and he’s taken -away all Mr., Fenton’s ” . _—.----- —"" "Diamonds," came from four throats in a simultaneous shout. "Every blessed stone has gone,” Gerry added. “Thirty thousand pounds’ worth, Billy says, and they haven't a clue.” "Aud there’s policemen there,” Lulu cried, seizing Moyra's hands, aud joggipg them up and down to attract attention to herself. Never had there been such excitement. Moyra and Aileen could not believe their ears. Moyra was at first inclined to believe it was a practical joke got up by Gerry, but the sight of her father’s and M.. Fenton’s grave faces, as she entered the hall, soon told her it was the truth. unfortunately it is quite true,” Mr. Fenton said. “We only discovered our loss about an'hour or so ago, when Mrs. Fenton’s maid returned the jewels my wife wore last night. I went to return them to,the safe; it looked all right, and the spring worked as usual, but the safe was empty. Every one had gone.” The listeners exclaimed and sympathised : they all had their own theory; but after all there was little that could be told. The thieves seemed to have left no trace behind them. Billy had at once wired to Caterham detectives, and had also put the matter in the hands dC the local police; but it was more than probable that the thieves were far away, having had such a start. “And there were so many strangers about the place last night,” Terry put In. “What with waiters and guests, and the continual stream of footmen and coachmen, a dozen strangers could have got in and out without any one knowing or even noticing them." "True enough!" Mr. Fenton assented. “That’s what Billy said at once. But he thinks the robbery occurred during supper, when every one was in the one room, and all hot -e servants, who might hare noticed any stranger hanging about, ■were occupied there. But <*hen it must have been cleverly planned, and they must have had accurate knowledge of our doI, I, - —— logs. “And that presupposes, a confederate,” Aileen said thoughtfully. “Can you trust all your servants?"’ i “My dear young lady, thJy have all Men in my service since Billy was a baby,” die old gentleman replied testily. “If they had wanted to steal my diamonds they had far better opportunities when we were in our old house. Besides, there were only Mrs. Fenton and myself —oh. and Bride of coarse! —who knew the hiding place, as I believed."

“When two people know a secret every one knows it,” the Rector said; he did not like Bride's name mentioned in this connection. He spoke rather sharply to Delda, who was forming words with her lips and looking across at Vera Standing near her father. “Why are you pulling such hideous faces, Geraldine? It does' not add to your good looks.” Delda hung her head, and the Rector, glancing at Vera, caught her in of nodding her head to her snubbed friend. She colored guiltily under his glance and seemed anxious to hide behind Terry. “You two Children are concealing something,” he said sharply. “What is it, Geraldine?” When her father spoke'in that tone Deida knew she must be obeyed. “IPs nothing!” Gerry said scornfully. "■“Girls are muffs.” “Hold your tongtic, Gerald'.’’ his father commanded. “Now, Geraldine V "It isn’t anything,” Delda mumbled, only that Mr. Fenton said nobody knew about the hiding place except himself and Mrs. Fenton and Bride. But Bride and I sleep in the same-room, and sometimes, especially lately,- she talks dreadfully in her* sleep, and one night she talked a lot about the diamonds and how she liked them, and said suddenly quite loudly, ’lt is a good place, hut I should think the fire would spoil them.’ —So- of eourse- Vera ah(T I guessed ‘Thffy must be near a fire, aud we thought perhaps you put them under the grate or up the chimney ■ that’s all.” —— V. “I told you so I” Gerry said. “Girls are soft! Fancy making such a fuss about that!” The Ciders looked at cadi other a little blankly. It was Moyra who spoke first. “I am quite sure, that Bride never hope you will believe that, Mr. Fenton; she is very childish, but she is the soul of honor.” “I am certain of that,” he replied at once. "I do not doubt Bride in the least, poor dear chilli. But the little girls”—'" Delda bridled at tTie epithet-—"arc quite right in their supposition. The diamonds are—were kept near the fire. As a matter of fact, the safe was let in behind one of the cheeks of the mantelpiece in my dressing room, the check forming the door, -so to speak. It was an ingenious idea of which I was very proud. I must show you the.construction now that it has betrayed its trust.'’ v He went back to house, taking the Rector with him, when" the sight of a hired ~ea’o coining down the avenue warned them of the approach of the Caterham detectives. It happened that Moyra was left alone with "the inseqiarabies,” as Vera and Delda , had been nicknamed. The two began to whisper to each other, and Vera presently said rather quaveringly: "Is it quite true that the detectives always find out everything, Moyra?” “Sometimes,” Moyra answered absentmindedly, looking for a paper she wanted. -‘M hope-they will---— ’’ She paused abruptly; a series of piercing Shrieks, unmistakably Lulu’s, came from upstairs. Instantly Moyra flew up the staircase, calling out as she sped, “Yes, yes-—l’m coming! Don’t be frightened. I’m coming.” At the foot of the upper staircase Lulu flew into her arms, sobbing piteously: “Bride, Bride!” she sobbed. "She’s dead ! Bride’s dead !” Moyra gazed at.her unbelievingly, and then flew upstairs to Bride’s room. She bent over the girl, still lying on the bed, aud sank down beside her in a revulsion of feeling that nearly caused her to follow Bride’s example. “Oh, Lulu, how could you frighten me so?” she gasped, her face as colorless as Bride’s, as Ajleen and the other girls entered. “Some one get some salts. She has only fainted.” "Well, I was just talking to her and telling her about Mr. Fenton’s diamonds being stolen, and she groaned and fell down flat. And she never said a word. I was frightened,” said Lulu. "So I should think, you little noodle!” exclaimed Terry, who had joined the others. "Here, she's coming round! Hold on, old girl—you’re still alive "'— as Bride gazed round in bewilderment. "What has happened?” she asked slowly, looking up at the circle of faces. “What Oh, Moyra, Moyra !”—and she turned her head away and hid her face ia the bedclothes. (To be continued.)