To Save a Soul.

"Reaction follows all exceptional enthusiasm,—even be it of a religious nature. We may try to plead an exception in religion, but we deceive ourselves, if we do.

"The time following a great spiritual effort, is the hardest to meet. If we conquer ourselves, we rise to loftier planes. If we fail, we are worse off than before the exaltation. There is a proverb, "Success is built on failure." True, but the reverse also holds good. "Failure is built upon success." The idea of one grand moment of conversion when the soul of man is roused to great things, never to become earthly again, is at best an idle dream. The ladder to perfection must be climbed slowly and with care. The rounds of that ladder are marked either "Success" or "Failure." Often our feet are resting surely upon the one, when we go to step higher, and we feel the painful contact with the other."

Betty laid down the tract which she had been reading, and arose from her chair with a deep sigh.

She had been resting a few moments, before dressing to go out with Edgeway.

George and Alma had been gone just five days, and in that time, she had come to realize that the past late experiences with George had not only re-awakened her love, but, if possible, made it stronger and more unconquerable.

She had kept her promise and had gone out every evening with Edgeway. He had been more than grateful, but she began to see that his attentions were more than friendly ones.

How dull she had been, to remain blind to the fact! She blamed herself greatly.

"Poor Edgeway!" she said, taking up one of his roses, and fastening it on her dress. "You are suffering for a hopeless love, and—I also. George is so fond of Alma—poor Alma—she needs all the love possible, if she remembers the cause of her shock. Probably George will make it appear to her like a dream. Will Lambert will vanish again, and she will never know the real tragedy of her life."

She began to dress her hair slowly.

"Perhaps," she thought on, "if I think of others, I will forget myself. I thought I had conquered selfishness, but it seems not."

That evening Edgeway was quiet, and possessed none of the animation of previous evenings.

They witnessed the grand display of fireworks with slightly aroused enthusiasm, but it subsided instantly when the excitement was over.

"Miss Emmit, this is the last night of the celebration we will enjoy together. Won't you favor me by prolonging it with a little supper?"

She acquiesced, and they were soon seated in a private room, as far apart from the world, in this big hotel, as if they were at the north pole.

The subdued, red glow of the candelabra, and the distant strains of the orchestra, were restful after the glare and noise of the streets.

"I suppose," said Edgeway gravely, "that from now on, your mind will be only upon your art."

"I hope so," she returned earnestly. "I find myself strangely unbalanced in my thoughts, when I lose the thread of my life."

"Suppose there was one person, who needed to be saved from absolute uselessness, and you were the only one who could influence him. Would you try very hard?"

"What a question! Of course I would!" she returned earnestly.

"How much would you sacrifice for one soul?"

"Almost anything."

He looked into her fair, pure face, and his own flushed hotly.

"I believe you would," he said eagerly. "But I feel almost ashamed to acquaint you with such a one. You would sacrifice too much."

"Tell me of any one I can help," she returned. "I especially need to think of others, now."

At that moment the supper was served.

"Eat," said Edgeway, "I will talk of him later."

Edgeway ate little, but regarded Betty with a wistful despondency.

She felt his mood and tried to brighten him with light comments on the evening's display.

At last they finished, and Betty looked at him with a grave smile.

"You must not forget to tell me who needs me so much."

"Miss Emmit, it is none other than poor, unfortunate I."

Betty colored crimson. There was no mistaking his words, and the look that accompanied them.

"Yes," he continued, "without you, my life will be a useless hollow affair. With you, I believe it would be worth while. Your very presence exalts me to better things. O, could you,—could you stoop to poor insignificant me?"

His humility was genuine, and Betty beheld the absolute prostration of a man's heart at her feet.

She gazed at him with a look of great sorrow.

"Oh, have I led you to this?" she asked gently. "I shall never forgive myself to have let you so misunderstand me!" she exclaimed in sudden self blame.

"Misunderstand you?" he said, and there was a slight bitterness in his tone. "I would not dream that you could love me! I only ask permission to love you!" he declared passionately. "You—my salvation from life's pitiful 'Nothingness!'"

She regarded him with pity and surprise.

"You ask no love from me in return?" she asked tremulously.

"None!" he pleaded, "Perhaps some day my devotion may give it birth, but I shall expect nothing! Don't, don't refuse me, or—I'm a lost soul! I possess no strength in myself. I know it. I have lived to learn my cradle's curse. But I have the power of loving—poor dog-like trait! You could strike me now, and I would still turn to lick your hand!"

His wild devotion made her tremble. Did she indeed hold this man's soul in her hands? Was he really weak and helpless without her? Perhaps God had sent him to her for her care to save.

She was confused, almost tortured with her thoughts.

"Ask me no answer tonight," she said trembling. "I must think and—pray."

"You do not scorn me, then?" he asked with a great joy lighting his eyes.

"Scorn you? It will be my happiness to arouse you to a real sense of your worth!"

***********

One month later, Betty announced her engagement to Frank Edgeway.

She had thought and prayed over it, and he had not ceased his persuasions. It did not seem quite natural to be contemplating marriage with another, when her heart's idol was surely George. But George belonged to another, and the hopelessness of her own love, gave her greater sympathy for Edgeway.

"Frank, sometimes I think you love me too much," said Betty, "are you sure that you will not be disappointed in my poor return?"

"Disappointed? O, if you only know what you have done for me. I thought it impossible to ever be really content. I hardly know myself. The world is a very different affair with my Betty. My Betty!—How strangely beautiful those words sound! Just to repeat them over and over again gives me untold joy!"

She looked into his adoring eyes, and felt a certain delight in the thought of his satisfied longings. She smiled at him happily.

"To make one heart so perfectly transformed with happiness is indeed a privilege," she said, running her hand through his abundance of hair with almost a maternal caress.

Another month passed happily, and Edgeway seemed indeed transformed. He needed no gay mask to cover his cynicism now—it had all entire vanished.

Suffused with the light from Betty's radiant nature, he suddenly developed all his latent aspirations. They read and talked together, and he felt her spirit touch all things.

Sometimes he asked himself if this dream could possibly last. Would Betty be satisfied always? Then his complete happiness would chase away the doubt.

One night when she and Edgeway were alone together, the post brought a letter from Alma.

"Ah," she said delighted, "I have wondered why she did not write?"

She opened it quickly and was surprised to find only a note.

"Dearest Betty:—George returns alone tomorrow. You may expect to see him very soon. He will tell you all—I dare not trust myself to write now. We are all well and oh! So happy! My darling girl, my heart's best to you.

"Devotedly,

"Alma."

Betty handed the letter to Edgeway in astonishment.

"Is that not a strange note? What could have happened?"

Edgeway read, and re-read thoughtfully. Then he handed it back saying,

"Something unusual, surely. Maybe Dr. Cadman has had their marriage annulled, and your friend is reunited with her first husband. That Dr. Cadman has brains enough to engineer a case like that successfully."

"You think it possible?" she asked in an awed voice.

He took her hands and pressed them hard.

"Does it concern you, if he did?" he asked quickly, his eyes compelling hers with sudden fear.

"I'm not sure that it would be best," she answered evasively, and he read in her eyes a shrinking from his scrutiny of her.

Turning the conversation, he talked of their future life together, but the light had died from his eyes, and Betty noticed the effort of all his remarks.

That night and the next day, she never ceased to think of Alma's note, and Frank's surmise.

"Yes, all things are possible of George. Perhaps even"—then she stifled the thought. A sudden misery that seemed unbearable, demanded all her strength to overcome. She was bound in honor to Edgeway. How dared she even run her fancy so far!

In the evening she was dressing to go out again with Frank, when the maid announced Dr. Cadman.

Trembling, she grasped the chair. With effort she finished her toilet, almost too dazed to think. A vague fear possessed her.

"I am weak," she said hopelessly. "O God, give me strength!"

Her prayer was answered. She found herself descending to the parlor with an outward calm covering her inner pain.

Dr. Cadman stood awaiting her.

As she entered, he took her outstretched hand.

"A long time away, Betty," he said, holding it fast, "but a short time considering all that has been accomplished. Alma wished me to come and tell you everything."

"Yes?" she asked in a low tone. "You must tell me all about it. How is our dear Alma?"

She sat down as she spoke, and he drew a chair near to hers.

"Our Alma is well and ever so happy! Can you possibly realize it when I tell you she is re-united with Will!"

Betty caught her breath and looked at him fearfully.

"You are not glad for her?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes, but—" she could not say anymore, but gazed at him piteously.

"You are not glad, Betty?"

Neither saw Edgeway at the door. George's back was to him, and Edgeway saw Betty's eyes looking at George with infinite longing.

Edgeway turned, and slowly and thoughtfully went to his room.

"Yes, I am very glad," said Betty.

"You don't look it," he said gently. "Tell me girlie, what troubles you?"

She smiled up at him bravely.

"I have good news, too, not bad. I'm engaged to be married."

"You? Why, who is the lucky man?"

"Mr. Edgeway."

"Well, my dear girl, I do wish you all the happiness in the world. You are sure you are happy, though?" he asked in deep concern.

Betty dropped her eyes in confusion.

At that moment, Mr. Mellor and the ladies entered the parlor, so Betty and George were no more alone. He did not stay long. As he said goodbye, he added, "Betty, you are hiding something from me. I must know what. I have to return to Chicago to arrange some details. When I come back, I shall call again."

And so he left her, standing pale, but determined—determined to be true to Edgeway and save a soul.