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The Woman Thou Gavest Me -3 By Hall Caine
The Story That the Whole Country Is Talking
About, and bv Far the Greatest h rom the
Virile Pen of This Unrivaled Author, Strik
ingly Illustrated by Frank Craig.
Now Running in Hearst’s Magazine--Read the
Synopsis and Installment and Continue It in
Hearst’s M gazine for September, Just Out
As soon as Sister Mildred and Father Dan reached my room I locked the door and sa‘d, “Now, out with it. Tell me everything about Mary.
When, where, and by whom was she seen last?" I was too impatient to listen to Father Dan, so Sister Mildred answered, “She was last seen a
week ago, and again to-night on the streets—by a fallen woman. She does not know that you are alive; perhaps her child is dead, and she is
throwing herself away, thinking.there is nothing else to live for." “What?" I cried. “You believe that? Never! Not Mary O’Neill! She would
beg her bread, or die in the streets first!” ,
I Hurtful Thoughts.
I began to paint my pale face red, tor I was going out into the streets
—for baby’s sake!
Copyright, inis, by Hiuret s Majtailne—Copyright in c.n ii Britain
Oriven From the Home of the
Holy.
T HE sun was shining in the
street. It was one of
those olear. olean frosty morn
ings when the vrn air of Lon
don, even in the worst places,
seems to be washed by the sun
light of the sin and drink of the
night before,
1 was on my way to that
church among the back alleys of
May fair to which I had gone so
frequently during the early days
of my marriage when I was
struggling against the mortal sin
(as I thought it want of loving
Martin.
Jus. us ! rue ted ilit. uliuivh aiul
w«s asvemlinK Hie u Rorgcou*
lamluu with high-.-'topping hnr.-rs ;iu<l
powdered footman drew up at the
bottom of them
The carriage. which borv a coronet
ua cuut-ot-arniK on tin* door, con
tained n lady in long furs, a roav-
faced baby girl with a large doll In
bar arm*, and a nurse
The Mother.
1 could ssfct? that, like myaelf, the
lady (a young mother) had come to
confess, tor a.s she rose from her seat
ahe told the child to sit quiet and be
good, as she would not keep her ong.
“Turn out soon, mummy, and dolly
wjll lub > ou eber and eber,” said the
child
The lauy stopped .and kissed the
tittle one. and then, with a proud
FULL SYNOPSIS.
and happy look, stepped out of the
carriage and passed Into the church,
while the doorkeeper opened the vea- :
tlbuic door for her ami bowed deeply
I stood at the top of the steps for
a moment looking buck at the car
riage, the horses, the footman, the
nurse, and, above all, the baby girl
with her doll, and then followed the
lady into the church.
Apparently ni«?i was just over. LU-
• ]e spirelets of smoke were rising
from the candles on the altar which
jthe sacristan was putting out, a few
communicants were still on their
I knees, and others with light yet echo
ing footstep 1 - were making for the
j door.
The lady in furs hud already taken
j her place at one of the confessional
hoxes. and as there seemed to he no
I other that was occupied by a priest,
1 knelt on a chair in the naive ami
tried to fix my mind on the prayers
(once so familiar) for the examina
tion of conscience before confession:
“Oh, Lord JeSua Christ, dispell the
darkness of my heart, that I may be
wail my sins and rightly confess
them.”
But the laboring of my spirit was
like the tlight of a bat in the day
light. Though I tried hard to keep
rny mind from wandering, 1 could not
do so. Again and again it went hack
to the lady in furs with the coroneted
carriage and the high-stepping horses,
j She wa.^ about my own age. and
she began to rise before my tightly
closed e>es as a vision of what I
might have been myself if I had not
given up everything for love—wealth,
| rank, title, luxury
| God is my witness that down to
1 that moment I had never once thought
I 1 had made any sacrifice, hut now, as
by a flash of cruel lightning. 1 flaw
myself as I was- a peeress who had
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CONSERVATION
EXPOSITION
Sept. 1st to Nov. 1st
Knoxville, Tenn.
Only S l /2 Hours' Ride
VERY LOW RATES
NO CHANGE OF CARS
City Ticket Office, 4 Peachtree Street
Union Passenger Station.
Even this did not hurt me much,
but when I thought of the rosv-faced
child in the carriage, so thin and
pale, and with her little bib staineo
by her curdled milk, a feeling I had
never had before pierced to my very
soul.
I asked myself if this was what God
looked down upon and permitted—
that because 1 had obeyed what I
still believed to be the purest impulse
of my nature, love, my child must
be made to suffer.
Then something hard began to
form in my heart. I told myself that
what 1 had boen taught to believe
about God was falsehood and decep
tion.
All this time I was trying to hush '
down my mind by saying my prayer,
which called on the gracious Virgin
Mary to Intercede for me with my
Redeemer, and the holy Saints of
God to assist me.
“Assist me by thy grace, that I may
be able to declare my sins to the
priest, thy vicar.”
li was no use. ©very moment mv '
heart was hardening, and what I had
intended to confess about my wicked
thoughts of the night before was
vanishing away. At last 1 rose to
my feet, and, lifting my head, looked
boldly up at the altar
The Voice Supernatural.
J UST at that moment the young
peeress, having finished her con
fession, went off with a light step
and cheerful face Her kneeling
place at the confessional box was
now vacant, yet 1 did not attempt to
tHke it. and some minutes passed in
which I stood lilting my lips to pre
vent a cry. Then the priest parted
his curtains and beckoned to me, and
1 moved "stubbornly by the perforated
brass grating
"Father,” 1 said, as firmly as I
could, for rny throat was fluttering.
"I came here to make my confession*
but something has rume over me
since I entered this church, and now
I can not make it.”
“What has come over you, my
child?” asked the priest.
“I feel that what Is said about God
in a place like this, that He Is a
kind and beneficent Father, who is
just and merciful and pities the suf
ferings of His children. Is untrue. It
Is all wrong and false. God does not
care."
The priest did not answer me im
mediately. but after a moment of >1-
lence he said, in a quivering voice:
l »uniel o’Nell, a powerful, self-
made man, forces his on y daughter.
Mary, into u loveless marriage with
the impecunious and profligate Lord
Baa, so that his ambition to have
his descendants the rightful heirs
of the one earldom ‘in Elian may be
realized Mary, a convent-raised
young woman, shocked to And her
husband a man of sordid, sensual
passions, ret uses utterly to nave
anything to do with him until such
time as he can prove himself worthy
of her love During the honeymoon
abroad Alma Lier, a divorcee who
had been expelled from the convent
Mary attended in Borne, attaches her
self to the party, and makes the
; “honeymoon trip” a long series of
i slights and Insu ts for Lady Baa.
At last Lady Baa becomes certain
; of the infidelity of her husband and
, of his misconduct with Alma Lier.
1 On her return to London Mary en |
| counters her --Id playfellow*, Martin 1
! Conrad, who has returned from his j
triumphant expedition to tho Ant- j
arctic Drawn Into ever closer re
, lations with the only man for whose
1 friendship she had ever cared, Mary
1 flnallv awakes to the fact that she
! is hopelessly in love, with Martin.
• Terrified by this knowledge. and
' finding herself more and more in
, <iv.■ with Martin, sho determines to
> run away from the cause of her dis-
' tress, ami go home.
\ Mary's flume-coming to Castle Baa
> is a sad affair. Her husband fills
the tumble-down old mansion with
j bis fast friends irom London, in-
> eluding Alma Lier, who assumes
\ control of the household. Ulti-
S matel.v rtie illness, of her father of-
k ft rs Alary excuse for escape from
\ the intolerable environment. But
before visiting her old home. Mar>
appeals to her Bishop and to her
father’s lawyer, on’y to be told that
neitiier church nro state can offer
any relief from her false position.
She returns next day to Castle Baa
to rind that Martin is arriving for a
farewell visit, and that by Alma
Ller’s deceitful scheming the whole
"My child, I feel just like that my
self sometimes. It is the devil tempt
ing you. He is standing by your side
and whispering in your ear at this
moment.”
The Priest’s Words.
1 shuddered, and the priest added:
"1 see how it is, my daughter. You
are suffering, and those you love are
suffering, too But must you surren
der your faith on that account? Look
round at the lectures on these walls”
(the Stations of the Cross). “Think
of the Great Sufferer, the Great Mar
tyr, who in th<? hour of His death, nt
the malicious powar of the world,
cried, 'Eli, Eli, lama sabachthanl:
house party has gone off for a tew
da j s’ cruise.
During the three days alone with
her lover Mary tights a grim
battle with temptatfbn, only to find
on the last night that her faith in
renunciation and the laws of the
church is a fragile thing compared
with her overwhelming love for mis
pure-hearted man. \Vith Martin’s
passionate* words, “You are my real
w'ife: 1 am your real husband.” ring
ing in her brain, sue forgets every
thing else, and with strong steps
walks across the corridor to Mar
tin’s bedroom. This is the action
which Martin lias advised as being
the only course open to them wnic».
is sure to bring the »ne result they
have decided to attain—Mary's di
vorce from Lord Baa.
Mary determines after the depar
ture of Martin Conrad, to hide her
self in London. Sl.e is driven by
fear of Lord Baa’s discovery of her
unfaithfulness to him: she is equally
afraid of the venomous tongue of
Alma Lier. She is no sooner settled
in a cheap little boarding house in
1 nndon than a great hue and cry
is raised by her father. Of all per
sons. it is Mildred, that one truest
friend of her convent days, who fer
rets her out; but for Mary's sake she
breaks a vow and refuses to g*vo her
up. Then comes the report of the
loss of Martin's ship in the Antarc
tic. The report is false, but Mary,
who flees from Mi tired to a still more
obscure part of London. Is plunged
Into the depth of black despair from
which she is saved only by the birth
of her child. Motherhood is poignant
with joy and sorrow, bid poverty
compels Mary to deny herself of even
Its privileges; she leaves her oh.Id with
a Airs. Oliver and her brute of a hus-
Uftntl, while she herself works for a
sweatshop. The Olivers impose upon
her; she is even compelled to pawn
her last treasure, a precious relic of
her mother, to keep the roof over her
sickly chi tl Then she comes upon
Sister Angela, who has become a
painted woman of the streets for the
sake of her dying husband. She spends
the night with the fallen woman and
escapes in the morning.
My God, My God, why hast Thou for
saken Me?’”
I had dropped to my knees by now,
my head was down, and my hands
were clasped together.
“You are wrong, my child, if yoa
think God does not care for you be
cause He allows you to suffer. Are
you rich? Are you prosperous? Have
you every earthly blessing? Then
beware, for Satan is watching for
your soul. Hut are you poor? Are
you going through unmerited trou
ble? Have you lost someone who
was dearer to you than your heart of
hearts? Then take courage, for our
holy and blessed Saviour has marked
you for His own.”
I knew nothing of that priest ex
cept his whispering voice, which,
coming through the grating of the
confessional, produced the effect of
the supernatural, but I thought then,
and I think now, that he must have
been a great as well as a good plan.
I perfectly recollect that when I
left the church and passed into the
streets it seemed as if his spirit went
with me and built up in my soul x
resolution that was bright with
heavenly tears and sunshine.
The Solution.
Work! Work! Work! I should
work still harder than before. No
matter how mean. Ill-paid and un
congenial my work might be, I should
work all day and all night if neces
sary. And since I had failed to get
my child into an orphanage, it wai
clearly intended that I should keep
her with me, for my own charge ani
care and joy.
This was the mood fin which I re
turned to the house of the Jew.
It was Saturday morning, and
though the broader thoroughfares
the East End were crowded and the
narrower streets were full of life,
the Jew’s house was silent, for it was
the Jewish Sabbath.
As I went hurriedly upstairs, I
heard the Jew himself, who was
dressing for the synagogue, singing
his Sabbath hymn: Leeko daudl lik-
ras kalle—“Come, O friend, let us go
forth to meet the Bride, let up re
ceive the Sabbath with Joy!"
Then came a shock.
When X reached my room, I
found, to my dismay, that the pile
of vests which I had left on my
bed on going out the day before
had been removed, and just as T
was telling myself that no one else
except Mrs. Abramovitch had a key
to my door, I heard shuffling foot
steps on the stair, and knew
that her husband was coming up to
me.
Questions Unanswerable.
A MOMENT afterward the Jew
stood in my doorway. He
was dressed in hfs Sabbath
suit, and free from the incongruous
Indications of his homely calling, th?
patriarchal appearance which had
first struck me was even more
marked than before. His face was
pale, his expression was severe, and
if his tongue betrayed the broken Eng
lish of the Polish Jew, I, in my
confusion and fear, did not hear it
then.
My first thought was that he had
come to reprove me for neglecting
my work, and J was prepared to
promise to make u-' for rny absence.
“You have been out al
have been?"
night,” he said. “Can you tell me where you
But at a second glance I saw that
something had happened, something
had become known, and that he was
there to condemn and to denounce
me.
“You have been out all night,” he
said. “Can you tell me where you
have been to?”
1 knew I-could not, and though it
flashed upon me to say that I had
slept at the house of a friend, I saw
that, if he asked who my friend was,
and what, I should be speechless.
The Jew waited for my reply, and
then said, “You have given us a name.
—can - you say It is your true and
rigiu one?”
Again I made no answer, and after
another moment the Jew said, “Can
you deny that you have a child whom
you have hidden fro|i our knowl
edge?”
1 felt myself gasping, but still I did
not bpea*.
(Continued in Hearst’s Magazine
for September.)
amt
Read What Dr. Parkhurst Says About This Great Story!
By DR. C. H. PARKHURST
H ALL CAINE’S new story, “The
Woman Thou Gavesit Me.” is
running as a serial in Hearst’s
Magazine. A novel by Hall Caine is
always an event, and is certain to
create a large readership, whatever
Its aim. and along whatever line It
is constructed. He writes easily and
Is, therefore, easily read. He knows
how to translate Into common English
the inner experiences of women, and,
therefore, enchains the attention of
the reader and evokes a quick re
sponse. So far as can be judged, his
work in the present instance will not
differ in that respect in comparison
HID
Eliminates the Em
barrassing Odor of
Perspiration.
Cream or Liquid.
25c
All Jacobs’ Stores
with what he has previously given to
the public.
It is on one account regrettable
that so much of what is recognized
as reputable fiction pivots on what
is evil and corrupt in human life.
By familiarizing the mind with what
is off color it tends to reproduce
after its kind and to sow the steeds
of evil thought, and, therefore, of
evil life, In the heart of the reader.
Whether such is the result will de
pend up n the complexion thrown
over the story by its author. That
which is good can be so presented
as to issue in bad effects, and that
which is nad can be ®t> presented
as to is'-me In good effects.
The influence of s *h scenes and
events as are narrated in a work
like this of Hall Caine will depend
also on the ton? of thought brought
to it bj b-r. We find what e
look for. Tho same narrative that
will inttamfe tt\e pas-ions of one read
er will create in another disgust for
the very evil over which a mind of
coarsest fiber will exult. As in a
gla>* we find ourselves in the volume
into which we ga^ze,
FuueraT Designs and Flowers
FOR ALL OCCASIONS.
Atlanta Floral Company
- STREET
It will be well if all who read “The
Woman Thou Gavest Me” will ob
serve in the experience of tho un
married mother the undertone of re
morse which sounds beneath her af
fectation of self-statisfiaotion and in
nocence. The danger in all such
cases is that the reader, if possessed
of impulses not altogether unsullied,
will seize upon l he girl’s expressions
of self-approval, to the neglect of
her stealthy confessions of self-con
tempt. While Marv is allowed to re
joice in a sense of God s blessing upon
her irregular life, the author is suf
ficiently true to the requirements of
moral nature to darken her rejoicing
with an indelible shadow of remorse.
This is as it should be. No novel is
safe that gets away from what is
fundamental in the soul.
While doubting very much whether
Caine’s story is literally true to fact
we mav well believe that it is true
to reality, and therein lie- the prin
cipal part of its actual value, espe
cially to such readers as are so cir
cumstanced and so charactered as
never to come into close range with
the underworld of degradation and
suffering poverty. So that while the
narrative Is a product of literarj
imagination it is nevertheless prac
tically true to life, and answers the
purpose of a revelation to those whose
entire knowledge of the world is lim
ited to its sunnier and sweeter por
tions
We ought all of us know life on
all its *<ides. We are Incapable of
rendering to the world the service it
is obligatory* upon us to render, if
our familiarity with it is confined
within the narrow area within which
a happy destiny or a kindly provi
dence may chance to have placed us.
We can read such a storv as this anfi
win from it only a parsing emotional
entertainment, or we can use It as
means by which our eyes are opened
to the sorrows, temptations and sins
of the world, ar.d so find in it an im
pulse to extend our interests, and
stretch our existence into regions of
life and experience less lovely and
congenial than our own.
(55 EAST FAIR
ELLA WHEELER WILCOX
Read What She Savs About “The Woman
Thou Gavest Me” in the Last Two
Columns of To-day’s Editorial Page.
Women Are Constantly Being
Health by Lydia E. Pinkh
Vegetable Compound.
“Worth mountains of gold,” says one woman. Another
says, “I would not give Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable
Compound for all the other medicines for women in the
world.” Still another writes. “ I should like to have the
merits of Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound thrown
on the sky with a searchlight so that all suffering women could
read and be convinced that there /s a remedy for their ills.”
We could fill a newspaper ten times tbe size of this with such quo
tations taken from the letters we have received from grateful women
whose health has been restored and suffering banished by Lydia E.
Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound.
Why has Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound accomplished
such a universal success? Why has it lived and thrived and kept on
doing its glorious work among the sick women of the world for more
than 30 years ?
Simply and surely because of its sterling worth. The reason _ no
other medicine has ever approached its success is plainly and sim
ply because there is no other medicine so good for women's ills.
Here are two letters that just came to the writer’s desk—only two
of thousands, but both tell a comforting story to every suffering wo
man who will read them—and be guided by them.
FROM MRS. I>. H. BROWN.
Iola. Kansas.—“DuringtheChange
of Life I was sick for two years. Be
fore I took your medicine I could
not bear the weight of my clothes
and was bloated very badly. I doc
tored with three doctors but they
did me no good. They said nature
must have Its way. My sister ad
vised me to take Lydia E. Pinkham’s
Vegetable Compound and I purchased
a bottle. lie:ore it was gone the
bloating left me and I was not so
sore. I continued taking it until I
had taken 12 bottles. Now I am
stronger than I have been for years
and can do all my work, even the
washing. Vour medicine is worth
its weight in gold. I cannot praise
it enough. If more women would
take your medicine there would be
more healthy women. You may use
this letter for the good of others.”—
Mrs. D. H. Brown, 809 North Walnut
Street, Iola, Kan.
parfS».Write to LYDIA E.FTMTHAM MEDICINE CO.
IMF (CONFIDENTIAL) LYNN, MASS*.,forftdvlo*.
Your letter will he opened, read and answered
by a woman and held in strict confidence.
MRS. WILLIAMS SAYSt
Elkhart, Ind. —“I suffered for 1<
years from organic inflammation, fe
male weakness, pain and irregulari
ties. The pains in my sides were
increased by walking or standing on
my feet and I had such awful bearing
down feelings, was depressed in
spirits and became thin and pale
with dull, heavy eyes. I had si*
doctors from whom I received only
temporary relief. I decided to give
Lydia E. Pinkhnm’s Vegetable Com
pound a fair trial and also the Saiji-
tive Wash. I have now used the
remedies for four months and cannot
express my thanks for what they
have done forme.—Mrs. Sadik Wil
liams,4D5 James
Street, Elkhart,
Indiana.
A