My story will be published when I am dead. I have a
reputation to sustain, you know."

Aaron King was not laughing, now. Something, that lay deep hidden beneath
the rude exterior of the man, made itself felt in his deep voice. Some
powerful force, underlying his whimsical words, gripped the artist's
mind--compelling him to search for hidden meanings in the novelist's
fanciful suggestions.

A few moments passed in silence before the young man said slowly, "I met a
character, yesterday, Mr. Lagrange, that might be added to your cast."

"There are several that will be added to my cast," the other answered
dryly.

To which the painter returned, "Did you notice that woman with the
disfigured face, at the depot?"

Conrad Lagrange looked at his companion, quickly. "Yes."

"Do you know her?" questioned the artist.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Only because she interested me, and because she seemed to know your
friends--Mr. Rutlidge and Mrs. Taine."

The novelist knocked the ashes from his pipe by tapping it on the veranda
railing. The action seemed to express a peculiar mental effort; as though
he were striving to recall something that had gone from his memory. "I saw
what happened at the depot, of course," he said slowly. "I have seen the
woman before. She lives here in Fairlands. Her name is Miss Willard. No
one seems to know much about her. I can't get over the impression that I
ought to know her--that I have met and known her somewhere years ago. Her
manner, yesterday, at seeing Mrs. Taine, was certainly very strange." As
if to free his mind from the unsuccessful effort to remember, he rose to
his feet. "But why should she be added to the characters in my novel, Mr.
King? What does she represent?"

"Her name,"--said the artist,--"in your study of life, is suggested by her
face--so beautiful on the one side--so distorted on the other--her name
should be 'Symbol'."

"There really is hope for you," returned the older man, with his quizzing
smile. "Good night. Come, Czar." He passed into the hotel--the dog at his
heels.

It was two days later--Thursday--that Conrad Lagrange made his memorable
visit to the Taines--memorable, in my story, because, at that time, Mrs.
Taine gave such unmistakable evidence of her interest in Aaron King and
his future.

Chapter IV

At the House on Fairlands Heights

As my friend the social scientist would say; it is a phenomenon peculiar
to urban life, that the social strata