Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1911)

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82 THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE. arm dropped to his side, and he took the hint. "Little prude," he whispered under his breath, but he walked on with her, talking of various things, until they came to the corner of the street where Euth lived. She stopped, and held out her hand. "I must leave you here/' she said. "Why not let me see you all the way home?" "I have a visit to make a sick friend before going home." He took her hand in his, and held it for a moment, with as close a pressure as he dared. "Why don't you ever let me come to see you?" he said softly. "I thought you might let me go home with you tonight, and spend an hour with you." "Sometime, perhaps, but not tonight," was her hurried reply, her face flushing, and her manner a little flurried. He released her hand, raised his hat, and stood with it in his hand, watching while she walked swiftly away, until her figure disappeared around the corner. "Let him go home with me ? I guess not. His aristocrat nose would be offended by the smell of the ghosts of all the dinners that have ever been cooked in that stuffy building of ours, and his high toned eyes would nearly pop out of his head at the sight of the general shabbiness. No, I can hold my own at the library ; there we are on common ground, but in my own home, shabby as it — " She did not finish her sentence, for she had stopped before a big tenement, which she entered, and, making her way up the narrow stairs to the very top of the building, softly knocked at a door. "Come in," she heard in a high, feeble voice, accompanied by a shuffling step inside. She opened the door and entered. The room was lighted by a little oil lamp, and the air was permeated with the odor of smoking kerosene, and was hot and close. "Oh, you must have a window open," said Euth, bringing a whiff of the fresh outside air with her, but the old man huddled over the small stove. "Oh, don't," he cried, "it is as much as we can do to keep warm ! It's no use to try to warm all the outside air." "He's always so cold," came a weak voice from the pillow, followed by a cough. "How are you tonight, Mary ?" asked Euth tenderly, going over to the bed where lay a wasted form, wrapped in an old cloth cape. "I think I am better, Euth, and I hope I can go back to work next week." "I hope so, dear," was the reply, but Buth's heart sank as she saw the great hollow eyes raised to hers, so big and dark in the whiteness of the wan face. "I'm so glad you came. Can't you sit down a few moments? You always make me feel so much better." "Just a few moments, clear; mother is expecting me home every moment now." But she did not leave till she had settled the sick girl comfortably for the night, and made sure that she would soon fall asleep. The next afternoon as Euth was preparing to leave for the day, for it was not her evening on duty, she saw Harry enter the delivery room. She nodded with a friendly little smile as she met his eye, expecting to pass on, but he put himself in her way. "What, going so soon?" he exclaimed, "and I wanted a word with you. Well, never mind, I'll walk on with you." Without waiting for her permission, he held the door open for her to pass thru, and then putting on his hat, he walked by her side, not attempting to touch her as had Eichard Lee the evening before. "What was it you wanted to say to me?" asked Euth, after they had gone a little distance. "Oh, yes, what was it now?" and he hesitated, while he was trying to think of something that would sound plausible, for he had just wanted to be with her; and then added hastily, "Oh, I know now. What were you doing out with that Eichard Lee last night?" Euth drew herself up a little proud i.y. "In the first place," she said, "I was