the night was so dark, the mist so heavy and the street so illy lighted that mollie could not clearly see either of her companions; but as she turned to the stranger who had appeared upon the scene so opportunely, a feeling of perfect confidence took possession of her, for his dignified and self-assured bearing inspired her with a sense of absolute security.
"oh, thank you! thank you!" she breathed gratefully though tremulously, as she involuntarily drew nearer to him.
"i am very glad that i happened to be near," the gentleman replied in a rich, deep but pleasantly modulated voice. "i was just passing out of a gate opposite when i heard you call. the wretch was very bold to assail you on the street at this hour of the evening! is he intoxicated?"
"i think so," said mollie, and speaking more calmly now, for she was fast recovering her self-possession, "and i am very thankful to you for your timely assistance, i——"
a groan from the prostrate man interrupted her at this point, and both she and her companion turned at the sound.
"well, sir, what is it?" curtly demanded the stranger, as he bent over him and tried to get a view of his face.
"you've given me a nasty blow, whoever you are; curse you!" he growled, as he made an effort to regain his feet.
but he seemed to find it a difficult achievement, and the stranger grasped him by the arm and assisted him to rise.
"there you are," he said, "now can you walk?"
again his victim groaned as he attempted to take a step or two, and almost fell a second time.
"well you are a trifle the worse for your fall, that is a fact," his companion observed. "i will help you to the corner, where you can get either a carriage or a car to take you home; and, now, if you will accept a bit of friendly advice, i will suggest that you keep your brain clearer in the future, when perhaps you will not be tempted to assault unprotected women in the street and get yourself into trouble again."
mollie's recent assailant wrenched his arm from the other's grasp with another oath, and, bending forward, tried to peer into the face before him. his fall evidently had not disabled him so seriously as he had at first feared, while the shock had served to sober him somewhat.
"look here!" he exclaimed in a supercilious tone; "i've a notion that i know who you are, and this isn't the first time, either, that you have interfered with me in what was none of your business. i know you, faxon, and i swear i'll make you sweat for this!"
clifford faxon—for it was he—now bent forward and peered into the face of the speaker, even though he had already recognized the speaker.
"great heavens!" he exclaimed in a voice resonant with mingled disgust and indignation, "have you descended so low as this, wentworth?"
a startled cry broke from mollie at this point, and she swept close to the young man's side.
"philip wentworth!" she gasped, and now she knew why his voice had sounded familiar to her, although, having been under the influence of liquor, his utterance had been very indistinct, while fear had so changed hers that, in his drunken condition, he had failed to recognize it. but as she now spoke his name a terrible shock went through him, sobering him completely.
"mollie! good god!" he cried in a tone of mingled mortification and dismay, while clifford's heart leaped with joy as he caught the name. the fair girl haughtily drew herself erect and away from him.
"let this be the last time, mr. wentworth, that you ever address me so familiarly; indeed, from this moment we are strangers."
"by all that is sacred, mollie, i never dreamed that it was you."
philip faltered with abject humility. "i swear——"
"silence!" she commanded imperatively. "never presume to call me 'mollie' again. of course i understand that you did not know me—neither did i recognize you under existing conditions. but you did know that you were insulting a woman, and the fact that you had no more respect for my sex, whoever the individual might be, i regard as direct an outrage as if you had known me."
"come, now," said philip appealingly, and his voice was husky with shame and grief, "you are downright hard on a fellow. i was not quite myself, i am bound to confess, and so not responsible——"
"not responsible!" repeated mollie with grave reproof. "yes, you are responsible; for you have no moral right to put yourself in a condition that renders it unsafe for people to come in contact with you upon the street, or elsewhere.
"let me say one word more," she added more gently, yet not less impressively, "for your mother's and sister's sake and for your own good, i beg that you will forsake your cups and the aimless life you are leading and try to live to some purpose in the future."
she stepped aside to allow him to pass, whereupon clifford faxon considerately inquired:
"shall i lend you an arm to the corner, wentworth?"
"no!—you!" was the passionate response, as philip angrily struck aside the proffered support, almost beside himself with mingled shame and rage, "and, let me repeat, that i will yet make you sorry for this night's work." he turned his back upon them both and strode away limping, but not nearly so badly crippled as his companions had feared he might be.
then mollie stepped forward to clifford.
"mr. faxon," she said, and extending her hand to him, "this is the third time that we have met under peculiar circumstances, all of which have made me greatly your debtor. i am miss heatherford, and i have never forgotten the hero of that exciting new haven incident."
"thank you, miss heatherford," faxon returned, and tingling to his finger-tips with rapture as he clasped the hand so cordially offered him, "and let me assure you that i am very much pleased to meet you again, and, at last, learn the name of one to whom i am also indebted. i refer to the beautiful souvenir of the event of which you have spoken, and which i have always treasured most sacredly. i am very glad i was at hand to rescue you from your recent unpleasant experience. now, may i have the additional pleasure of attending you to your home? i should feel very uncomfortable to allow you to go alone after the shock you have received."
"thank you; it is very kind of you to offer to attend me," mollie replied, and feeling much relieved in view of having a protector, for she had been badly frightened. "but, mr. faxon, i am afraid it will seem almost an imposition, for i have quite a walk yet," she added doubtfully.
"that will not disturb me in the least," clifford returned eagerly, "though it is very damp, and perhaps you would prefer to take a car; in either event, however, i shall not leave you until i see you safely housed."
"taking a car would not save me very much, as i must go back to pennsylvania avenue to get one, and i would have just about the same distance at the other end," said mollie reflectively. "on the whole, i believe i will take you at your word and we will walk."
"thank you," clifford responded so earnestly that mollie smiled involuntarily, while she experienced a peculiar exhilaration in his companionship.
she unhesitatingly accepted the arm he offered her, and they fell into a social chat which grew so absorbing to both that distance became of no account, and faxon was conscious of a sense of keen disappointment when his companion finally paused before her own door.
"why, miss heatherford, you told me it was a long walk; i did not suppose we were half-way there yet!" he exclaimed in a tone that plainly betrayed his regret.
"i think you must be a practised pedestrian, for it is very nearly a mile," said mollie with a silvery little laugh, "and, now, won't you come in for a little rest before you make the return trip?"
clifford would gladly have accepted the invitation and prolonged his enjoyment of her society for another half-hour, but he did not feel quite justified in doing so upon so short an acquaintance, and so politely excused himself.
"then some other evening, mr. faxon, i shall be happy to have you call if you should feel inclined," mollie cordially observed greatly to his delight.
"thank you, miss heatherford; it certainly will give me great pleasure to do so, and i shall avail myself of the privilege at an early date," the young man responded, and he was on the point of bidding her good evening when mollie lifted a shy glance to him and said:
"i feel that i owe you an apology, mr. faxon, for not recognizing you a few days ago when you saved me from having a fall from the car, but i was so surprised at the unexpected meeting that i was momentarily embarrassed, and so failed to do my duty."
"pray do not be disturbed," faxon returned with a heart-throb of gladness. "i saw you were somewhat overcome, and the omission was not to be wondered at under the circumstances."
"i knew you at once," mollie continued naively and with charming frankness, "and i feared afterward that you might attribute my seeming neglect to an unworthy motive."
"indeed, no—i hope i could not so wrong you, although you will allow me to say that i was somewhat disappointed," clifford replied in the same spirit.
he then bade her a reluctant "good evening," lifted his hat, and went away. it seemed to him that he was walking on air as he retraced his steps up-town.
at last he had met and learned the name of the divinity who for years had been his inspiration, whose fair face and deep blue eyes had haunted both his waking and sleeping hours; whose sweet girlish tones and thrilling words had rung like a melodious refrain in his ears for nearly six long years.
it had been a great trial to him not to know who she was, and he had been more irritated over the fact that philip wentworth had refused to give him any information regarding her than he usually allowed himself to become over anything. it had been like a poisoned dagger in his heart when that young man had arrogantly boasted of his engagement to the girl who had given him the cameo, which was the choicest treasure he possessed.
but now he knew that philip had lied—the occurrence of that evening had proved to him that no such tie had ever existed between the two. to be sure, wentworth had addressed her by the familiar name "mollie," but her manner toward him had plainly indicated that, although she might previously have regarded him as a friend, she had never surrendered her heart into his keeping.
this assurance set every pulse bounding with a feeling of exultation, and a vague, sweet hope that possibly he might yet awaken some responsive chord in her nature that as yet had been untouched began to take root in his heart.
he blessed the fates that had sent him upon an errand that night into the locality where he had found her in trouble, and thus enabled him to go to her rescue. then that never-to-be-forgotten walk had seemed leading him straight toward paradise, the door of which mollie had opened to him by her invitation to call—a privilege of which he resolved to avail himself at a very early day.
and three evenings later found him standing at her door, seeking admittance.
eliza answered his ring and showed him into the cosy homelike parlor, and five minutes later mollie appeared, looking charming in a dainty house-gown of some soft, white material without an atom of color save her blue eyes and glorious hair to mar its chaste simplicity.
she almost always wore white at home—it had been her custom since childhood, for her father loved to see her in it.
she greeted faxon with a cordiality which assured him that he was most welcome, and his heart thrilled with joy unspeakable as he observed the lovely color that suffused her face as he clasped her hand and responded to her salutation. she put him at his ease at once by seating herself near him and beginning to chat freely of washington and its society; of politics and politicians and various current topics. then she gradually drifted to other things, and finally to their first meeting, after which she adroitly led him to speak of his college life, struggles, and experiences.
he was surprised to find how freely and almost involuntarily he opened his heart to her of those things which he had seldom mentioned to others, and when he concluded he held up and showed her the cameo ring upon his hand.
"it has been my mascot," he said, smiling, "and i can never make you understand how much it has meant to me. but i never presumed to wear it in public until the day i took my degree and only occasionally since."
"i am afraid you have prized my simple souvenir far beyond its worth," said mollie, flushing. "it was really intended for a good-luck ring, however. i purchased it, and had it marked for a cousin who was going west to live, but as some one else had already given him a ring i kept it and sent him something else. have you discovered its little secret, mr. faxon?"
"yes," said clifford, as he touched the spring and the stone lifted from its place; but he did not tell her then how he had learned it, "and i have wondered during all these years until i met you the other night what these tiny initials stood for."
"marie norton heatherford," mollie repeated with a flush as she observed the look with which he was regarding the letters.
then to dispel the feeling of embarrassment she smilingly added:
"but, mr. faxon, i am afraid i should have felt that i was doing rather a bold thing to offer a gentleman a ring marked with initials if i had stopped to think about it that day—not that i regretted the ring, believe me," she interposed, as he glanced up at her quickly, "it was a very little thing to express all that i felt, but the letters rather troubled me. i—i almost hoped you would not find them."
"ah! but the initials and the horseshoe have been its chief charm to me," clifford returned earnestly; "somehow they seemed to be a link between the giver and myself, although, of course, i did not know what they stood for. and, now that i have met you again, may i have your permission to wear it constantly?"
"by all means, if you wish—i am sure you will honor my little souvenir by doing so," mollie responded with downcast eyes and bounding pulses.
she began to tell him something of her own life since that day; how a few days later she and her parents had sailed for europe to remain for several years; how she had lost her mother during her sojourn abroad, and one misfortune followed another until just after her return to this country the grand crash had come that had made her father penniless.
"yes," she said, with a little regretful sigh at an exclamation of sympathy from faxon, "papa met with loss after loss, until a year and a half ago we found that we were literally homeless and almost penniless. a friend helped him to a position here in washington, and for a while we were very comfortable and happy; but papa lost his health, and for several months past has been very ill—is, in fact, a hopeless invalid."
"that is very sad," clifford gravely observed, "and the change in your life must have seemed hard—even cruel."
"i don't know as i can say that," said mollie reflectively; "i believe i have rather enjoyed the change in some respects."
"enjoyed it!" repeated her companion astonished.
"yes," mollie brightly affirmed, "for i then began to feel that i was really of some use in the world. after papa gave up business i secured a position, and i am now working regular hours every day; were it not for my father's pitiable condition, i believe i should be perfectly happy. i think it is grand to feel that one has the power to win one's own way in the world."
faxon regarded her with mingled admiration and sympathy. he knew just the feeling she described, for he had experienced the same thrill of proud independence while working his way through college and also since he had begun to know something of the real business of life, in spite of the many crosses and hardships that he had endured.
then a wild, sweet hope took possession of his heart as he realized that she no longer inhabited a sphere so far above him socially that she was, as he had always believed her to be, utterly beyond his reach.
she was every whit as poor as himself, according to her own frank acknowledgment—there was now no golden barrier between them. why, then, might he not hope to win her—this fair, brave, sweet girl who had been the star and the inspiration of his life during the last six years?
