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EUGENE ANDERSON,
President Georgia-Alabama Business
College, Macon, Ga.
A Training School, Limited to 200
Students.
Mr. 11. K. Burns, of the Burns Motor
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“I have employed several good men
from you. I come to you again. I
want you to furnish me a SIOO office
man.”
The Georgia-Alabama has a fund for
training properly recommended stu
dents and allowing them to pay their
tuition after they go to work.
—■■■ ■■■ —— l
<Bk The man who has I
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W Hymns says of
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Price by mail: Boards.3oc; Leatherette,2sc: Manila.2oc
Specify whether you want round or shaped notes.
Get our rates to Sunday Schools and Evangelists.
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Office C ATLANTA, GA.
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TRIAL AND TRIUMPH
(Continued From Page Three)
’em. I lay he’s goin’ to ask dat city
gent into supper. . I’ll hafter run
down and put another plate on de
table.”
Anabel heard her husband’s genial
voice pressing the ‘‘city gent” to come
in and take tea while his horse had a
feed and a rub down. The moon
would then be up and he would have
a pleasant drive back to town.
“Thank you, I will,” responded a
voice that went through Anabel like a
charge of electricity.
She ran to the window. She saw
King alight from the buggy and join
Sylvia and Glenn in the walk. How
sylph-like and graceful Sylvia looked
in her white frock and straw hat! A
pang of jealous rage pierced Anabel’s
heart.
“She is the cause of his rejecting
me. It was that baby face of hers.
He would have got over the letter Mrs.
Dudley showed him,” was her bitter
thought.
She clinched her hand; her eyes
flashed.
“How dare he come here, making
love to her in this house —my house
before my eyes?” she muttered. “Is it
possible he does not know of my mar
riage? Yes, he must know of it.” Her
eyes softened. “Perhaps he drove
down here on purpose to see me. I
know he did care for me once —and
men do not shake off my power so
easily. How is it possible for me to
meet him tonight? But I must meet
him. Well, he shall see no sign of re
membering or regretting in me.”
She turned to Rachel.
“Put the brown silk back in the
closet,” she said. “I will wear the
light-gray gauze you have just laid in
the trunk. Can you get me some red
roses?”
“Dere’s some beauties here in de
vases what Miss Sylvia gathered dis
mornin’ afore she went away.”
“Not those,” Anabel said, quickly.
“Go out and get some fresh ones.”
She dressed herself with nervous
haste, her color rising, her heart beat
ing in fierce, quick throbs. Rachel,
coming in with a handful of roses,
cried out in admiration at sight of the
beautiful bare arms and throat re
vealed by the short puffed sleeves and
half-low corsage.
“Where is the gentleman who came
with Sylvia?” asked Anabel.
“He’s down in the parlor by hisself,
Mr. Charley’s gone to de stables, and
Miss Sylvia’s in de dinin’-room gittin’
out de silver and de chiney.”
“I will go down and speak to Mr.
King; he is an old friend of mine,”
Anabel said, as she fastened a bunch
of the crimson flowers in the soft folds
of her bodice.
“He’ll think you’se a beauty for shu’
—prettier’n Miss Sylvia! Your cheeks
is redder’n hers,” declared the deceit
ful Rachel, with an eye to cast-off
finery.
Anabel threw a glance at the mirror.
“It is true,” she thought. “He must
see it. He adores beauty—and he
loved me once.”
She ran downstairs. She stopped a
moment in the library, a pretty little
room shut off from the parlor by por
tiere curtains, and used by Dr. Glenn
as a study. She stood with a fold of
the curtains in her hand, trying to
calm herself for the meeting; then she
drew the curtain apart and stepped in
side.
King heard the rustle of a dress,
and turned, thinking it was Sylvia. He
started, and his brow darkened as he
found himself face to face with the
woman he had believed he was done
with forever. She was the first to
speak.
“How do you do, Mr. King?” she
The Golden Age for October 6, 1910.
said,, making a little curtesy. “We are
glad to have you with us. Tea will be
ready directly.”
He made no response, and she went
on:
“You look surprised. You stare at
me as though you would like to say,
‘What the devil are you doing here’?”
“You are a good mind reader,” he
said, curtly.
“Then, you have not read your own
paper this morning. If you had, you
would have seen the notice of my
marriage.”
“Your marriage? Not to ”
“To Mr. Glenn,” she said, burning
with angry disappointment that
through his surprise he showed no
pain at the announcement of her mar
riage. “I am Mrs. Charles Glenn, and
the mistress of this sweet old country
home.”
He still looked at her, dazed, half in
credulous.
“Why have you done this?” he burst
out at last. “Why have you imposed
yourself upon this man and forced
your way into this peaceful home?
Your coming into it will bring it no
good.”
“Good!” She laughed sardonically.
“It will be its evil genius.” Then she
turned upon him with flashing eyes.
“I have not. imposed upon my hus
band,” she said. “He knows all there is
against me. He believes in me in spite
of it. He will defend me against
slander and persecution.”
How beautiful she was in her pride
and defiance! He thought this as he
looked into her eyes.
“Pray to Heaven that you may be
worthy of his trust,” he said, sol
emnly.
Her face changed; a tumult of emo
tions passed over it.
“I have prayed,” she faltered. “I
prayed last night as I have not prayed
since I was a child. It is no use. To
day I have seen you, and my good re
solves are gone.”
“Put me out of your thoughts. You
have married a better man than I am.
Be thankful for it,” he said, with stern
impatience.
She flushed; but the dark face and
downcast eyes had a fascination for
her that she could not shake off. She
leaned nearer to him.
“But you loved me once —you can
not deny it,” she said, with a slow,
soft intonation.
He raised his eyes; their stern look
made her shrink.
“Why do you persist in bringing
that up?” he asked. “It is past. I did
admire you. I might have asked you
to be my wife; but — You know what
interposed. It is worse than idle to
speak of it now; it is a wrong to your
husband.”
“Yes, I do know what interposed,”
she broke in, speaking with suppress
ed passion. “It was not that letter
so much as a new sac girl’s
baby face. You talk of wrong; you
say I have come into this house to
break up its peace. Why have you
come here? Why, but to bring discord.
You are trying to win that girl from
the young man she is happily engaged
to. You may succeed. She may be
flattered by your devotion; but her
heart will belong to her young lover;
it will never be yours, and she will
never marry you. Mark my words,
Stanley King, she will never marry
you.”
Her eyes went through him like
cold steel. There was a sharp inten
sity in her low utterance that made
her words impressive. Afterward he
had cause to remember those words,
and to recall her look and tone.
He would not let her see that he
was disutrbed.
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“Is it a sibyl that speaks,” he said,
scornfully.
Before she could utter a retort she
had caught a glimpse, in a mirror op
posite, of Sylvia’s figure in the door
way. The girl had that instant drawn
aside the portiere; her little foot was
raised to step across the threshold,
when she became conscious that Ana
bel was speaking to King in a confi
dential tone, which made her feel
that her coming in would be an intru
sion. She dropped the curtain and
drek back, but not before she had dis
tinctly heard the words that had been
spoken solely to reach her ear and to
deceive her.
This is what she heard Anabel say,
