At last I summoned courage to speak.

"Can't I do somthing to help?" I said, in a quaking voice, to the

window.

There was no anser, but I could hear a pen scraching on paper.

"I do so want to help you," I said, in a louder tone.

"Go, away" said his voice, rather abstracted than angry.

"May I try the keys?" I asked. Be still, my Heart! For the scraching had

ceased.

"Who's that?" asked the beloved voice. I say `beloved' because an Ideal

is always beloved. The voice was beloved, but sharp.

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"It's me."

I heard him mutter somthing, and I think he came to the Door.

"Look here," he said. "Go away. Do you understand? I want to work. And

don't come near here again until seven o'clock."

"Very well," I said faintly.

"And then come without fail," he said.

"Yes, Mr. Beecher," I replied. How commanding he was! Strong but tender!

"And if anyone comes around making a noise, before that, you shoot them

for me, will you?"

"SHOOT them?"

"Drive them off, or use a Bean-shooter. Anything. But don't yell at

them. It distracts me."

It was a Sacred trust. I, and only I, stood between him and his MAGNUM

OPUM. I sat down on the steps of our bath-house, and took up my vigel.

It was about five o'clock when I heard Jane approaching. I knew it was

Jane, because she always wears tight shoes, and limps when unobserved.

Although having the reputation of the smallest foot of any girl in our

set in the city, I prefer Comfort and Ease, unhampered by heals--French

or otherwise. No man will ever marry a girl because she wears a small

shoe, and catches her heals in holes in the Boardwalk, and has to soak

her feet at night before she can sleep. However---Jane came on, and found me croutched on the doorstep, in a lowly

attatude, and holding my finger to my lips.

She stopped and stared at me.

"Hello," she said. "What do you think you are? A Statue?"

"Hush, Jane," I said, in a low tone. "I can only ask you to be quiet and

speak in Whispers. I cannot give the reason."

"Good heavens!" she whispered. "What has happened, Bab?"

"It is happening now, but I cannot explain."

"WHAT is happening?"

"Jane," I whispered, ernestly, "you have known me a long time and I have

always been Trustworthy, have I not?"




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