The Golden Slipper HTML version

Problem 8. Missing: Page Thirteen
"One more! just one more well paying affair, and I promise to stop; really and truly to
"But, Puss, why one more? You have earned the amount you set for yourself,--or very
nearly,--and though my help is not great, in three months I can add enough--"
"No, you cannot, Arthur. You are doing well; I appreciate it; in fact, I am just delighted to
have you work for me in the way you do, but you cannot, in your present position, make
enough in three months, or in six, to meet the situation as I see it. Enough does not satisfy
me. The measure must be full, heaped up, and running over. Possible failure following
promise must be provided for. Never must I feel myself called upon to do this kind of
thing again. Besides, I have never got over the Zabriskie tragedy. It haunts me
continually. Something new may help to put it out of my head. I feel guilty. I was
"No, Puss. I will not have it that you were responsible. Some such end was bound to
follow a complication like that. Sooner or later he would have been driven to shoot
"But not her."
"No, not her. But do you think she would have given those few minutes of perfect
understanding with her blind husband for a few years more of miserable life?"
Violet made no answer; she was too absorbed in her surprise. Was this Arthur? Had a few
weeks' work and a close connection with the really serious things of life made this change
in him? Her face beamed at the thought, which seeing, but not understanding what
underlay this evidence of joy, he bent and kissed her, saying with some of his old
"Forget it, Violet; only don't let any one or anything lead you to interest yourself in
another affair of the kind. If you do, I shall have to consult a certain friend of yours as to
the best way of stopping this folly. I mention no names. Oh! you need not look so
frightened. Only behave; that's all."
"He's right," she acknowledged to herself, as he sauntered away; "altogether right."
Yet because she wanted the extra money--
The scene invited alarm,--that is, for so young a girl as Violet, surveying it from an
automobile some time after the stroke of midnight. An unknown house at the end of a
heavily shaded walk, in the open doorway of which could be seen the silhouette of a
woman's form leaning eagerly forward with arms outstretched in an appeal for help! It