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"He couldn't do anything else." "Go on with your story," she said hurriedly. As they sat thus in the corner of the little sitting room, the pupils and guests of the institution came and went from the cloak rooms, eyeing the intent couple with smiling and curious glances. Who could that dark, handsome young man be who held Miss Yardwell with his glittering eyes?

The old man smiled. "Miss Yardwell? Yes she is one of our most valued pupils. Certainly Willy!" he called to a small boy who carried a livery of startling newness, "go tell Miss Yardwell a gentleman would like to see her." "I suppose you are from her country home?" said the old gentleman, who imagined a romance in this relation of a powerful and handsome young man to Miss Yardwell.

The boys talked their plans all over again while the strong young horse spattered through the mud. Slowly the night fell, and as they rode under the branches of the oaks, Jack took courage to say: "I wish Miss Yardwell had been here, Harry." "It's no use talking about her; she don't care two straws for me; if she had she would have written to me, at least." "Her mother may have been dying."

He didn't forget me when they sent me to jail. Neither did Mary. She sung for me." "Can't you tell me Mary's name?" "Why, it's just Mary, Mary Yardwell." "Where does she live?" "Oh, don't bother me," he replied irritably. "What do you want to know for?" The princess softly persisted, and he said: "She lives in the East. In Chicago. It's too far off to find her.

He could not look at the pitiful wreck of his once proud and fearless boy without weeping, and being mindful of Harold's prejudice against sentiment, he left the room to regain his composure. To Mary Mr. Excell said: "I don't know you but you are a noble woman. I give you a father's gratitude. Won't you tell me who you are?" "I am Mary Yardwell," she replied in her peculiarly succinct speech.

He knew very exactly her hours of recitation and at last she came, her arms filled with books, moving with such stately step she seemed a woman, tall and sedate. She perceived Jack waiting, but was not alarmed, for she comprehended something of his goodness and timidity. He took off his cap with awkward formality. "Miss Yardwell, may I speak with you a moment?" "Certainly, Mr.

Perhaps if we meet on a clear understanding we will get along better. Come, anyhow, and let me know you as you are. Perhaps I have never really known you, perhaps I only imagined you. "Your friend, "MARY YARDWELL. "P.S. The reason for the postscript is that I have re-read the foregoing letter and find it unsatisfactory in everything except the expression of my wish to see you.

The first one he found to be situated up several flights of stairs and was closed; so was the second. The third was in a brilliantly lighted building which towered high above the street. "Is there a girl named Mary Yardwell in your school?" he asked with some effort, feeling a hot flush in his cheek a sensation new to him. "I don't think so, I'll look," replied the girl with business civility.

Father does not suspect anything out of the ordinary as yet, and it will be quite safe. "Your friend, "MARY YARDWELL." As soon as he decently could Harold went to his room and opened the important letter. In it the reticent-girl had uttered herself with unusual freedom. It was a long letter, and its writer must have gone to its composition at once after the door had closed upon her visitors.

The girl started in dismay, and then, as she understood the meaning of this noise, a beautiful flush swept over her face and she shrank swiftly into shadow. But a man from an upper cell bawled: "Sing The Voice, miss! sing The Voice!" The leader of the band said: "Sing for them, Miss Yardwell."