The Mystery of Mary

aining, her breath bated as if she were experiencing it all once more. The horror of it! Her own hopeless, helpless condition! But finally, because her trouble

hat strange insistence which torments the victim of such dreams, she was obliged to lie still and imagine it out, again and again, until

suing thoughts and deliberately r

in two braids and wound closely about her head. It was neat, and appropriate to the vocation which she had decided upon, and it made more difference in her appearance than any other thing she could have done. All the soft, fluffy fulness of rippling hair that had framed her face was drawn close to her head,

ntil there was nothing visible but dull gray shadows of a world that flew monotonously by. With sudden remembrance, she opened the suit

into her cheeks. Yet the costume was not unbecoming, nor unusual. She looke

alarm. How could she protect it? She did not for a moment think of abandoning it, f

, but that was all the better. The feathers were upheld and packed softly about with bits of paper crushed together to make a springy cushion, and the whole built out and then covered over with p

d gloves in the suit-case, but she took off her be

dining-car, he looked at her almost with a start, but she answered his

ay outside. I 'spect Chicago'll be mighty wet. De wind's

y as possible, so she followed the stream of people who instead of going into the waiting-room veered off to the street door and out into the great, wet, noisy world. With the same reasoning, she followed a group of p

d and sent to the address Dunham had given her. Her gentle voice and handsome rain-coat proclaimed her a lady and commanded defer

at could she buy and yet have something left for food? There was no telling how long it would be before she could replenish her purse. Life must be reduced to its lowest terms. True,

s feeling, she walked aimlessly down between the tables of goods. The suit-case weighed like lead, and she put it on

decided on a seventy-five cent black one. It seemed pitiful to have to economize in a matter of twenty-five cents, when she had been used to counting her money by dollars, yet there was a feeling of

hirt-waist for fifty cents. Rubbers and a cotton umbrella took another dollar an

faced saleswoman if there were any place near where she could slip on a walking skirt she had just bought to save her other skirt from the muddy streets. She was ushered into a little fitting-room near by. It was only about four feet square, with one chair and a tiny table, but it looked

t. On the whole, the disguise could not have been better. She added the blue woollen blouse, and felt certain that even her most intimate friends would not recognize her. She folded the rain-coat, and placed it smoothly in the suit-case, then with dismay remembered that she had nothing in which to put her own cloth dress, save the few inadequate paper wrappings that had come about her simple purchases. Vainly she tried to reduce the dress to a bundle that would be covered by the papers. It was of no use. She looked down at the suit-case. There was room for the dress in there, but she wanted to send Mr. Dunha

and with nervous haste wrote "Mary" underneath. She opened the suit-case and pinned the paper to the lapel of the evening

had to carry it with her, and perhaps the dress might have been found during her absence from her room, and she suspected because of it. At any rate, it was too late now, and she felt

nue indefinitely; it might be, throughout her whole life. She could now see no way of help for herself. Time might, perhaps, give her a friend who would a

to seek a position as accompanist, and she knew how futile it would be for her to attempt to teach music in an unknown city, among strangers. She might starve to death before a single pupil appeared. Besides, that too would put her in a position where she would be more easily found. The same arguments were true if she were to attempt to take a position as teacher or governess, although she was thoroughly competent to do so. Rapidly rejecting all the natural resources which under ordinary circumstances she w

pped into a drug-store and looked up in the direc