The dawn of a new era

Chapter I

H EY, there, Syb ! Where do you think you’re going?” cried a merry, boyish voice as the tall, slender figure of Jack Carpenter swung into view from around the corner of Fifth and Bradford.

The girl he accosted was small and very beautiful. She was walking quickly, with the rich color of perfect health glowing in her soft, round cheeks. The smile she gave the young fellow in answer to his words warmed his very soul.

“I’m on my way to the library, Mr. Jackie. And where have you started?”

“I’d started over to see you ”

“All right — wait here just a minute, and I’ll be back.” She started to go, but he stopped her.

“Let me go with you to the library ” he

began.

“O, I can’t, Jack. I’ve a little private business to attend to,” smiling half shyly up into his face. “You stay here and I won’t be gone half a second. Good-by,” and she was gone.

Jack stood where she had left him, a thought- 7 ful little frown gathering between his brows. A man in passing jostled him, but he did not seem to be aware of it. His mind was far away — on the girl who had so rapidly turned from him. She was the daughter of old General Huntington, as brave a general and as gallant a soldier as ever entered on a battle-field. Jack’s father and General Huntington had been business partners all of their lives, and he and Sybil had been playmates and sweethearts ever since he could remember.

Always, she had been his confidante; always, he had gone to her with his joys and sorrows, his triumphs and defeats, partly because she was ever sympathetic and compassionate, partly because his mother had died in his infancy and he had turned to Sybil as his next dearest and best friend.

He was aroused from his revery by a light touch and a jolly laugh.

“My, but you were looking serious,” the low, musical voice mocked. “I think you must have been utterly oblivious of the whole world and the fullness thereof — you almost frightened me.”

Jack grinned and blushed guiltily. “I was thinking of you,” he confessed frankly.

“Were you?” the teasing voice went on. “I’m sure I feel highly honored; but let’s don’t stand here on the street; you said you had started over to see me, so come along.” They started up the street, and as they did so Jack saw the letter in her hand for the first time.

“Who’s it from, Syb?” he asked, and there was fear underlying his words.

She flushed slightly and held it up for him to see. It was postmarked Kentucky and her name and address were written in big, bold letters. Jack knew at once who had written it, and despite himself his face flamed up with jealousy.

“Let me read it,” he demanded suddenly.

The girl only shook her head laughingly.

“It’s been only lately that you’ve kept any secrets from me, Syb ; you know I never keep any from you. Why do you do it?”

“Please don’t get cross, Jack. If you’re so anxious to know what’s in the letter, I’ll tell you. It’s from Mr. Stuart; I sent him an invitation to my dance, and he sends me this letter telling me that he accepts.”

“Good Lord! I believe I hate that fellow worse than any mortal God ever created. Why did you ask him?”

“Because I wanted to — I like him, and I can’t help it if you don’t,” she tossed her head defiantly.

“You like him too darn well,” he continued bitterly, “and he’s the most conceited cuss I’ve had the pleasure to run up against in many a long day — and the brass of the big brute, too. He

The Damn of a New Era thinks what he doesn’t know isn’t worth knowing ! Did you notice the self-complacent air with which he walked down the aisle after he had made that tremendous blow-out of a speech in defense of that criminal that ought to have been hanged

“Well, he’s the handsomest man I ever saw, anyhow, Jack Carpenter,” she defended.

“He thinks he’s handsome — he’s sure stuck on himself — and the big fool thinks every girl in town is crazy about him.”

“That also is true.”

“It’s not!”

“How dare you dispute my word!” she flashed.

“Forgive me, Syb,” he begged humbly. “Can’t you understand that I can’t bear to think that you care for any fellow except me? Can’t you understand that I’m — I hate to say it — I’m jealous as the devil of that lawyer up in Kentucky. You don’t love him, Syb, tell me you don’t.” He was gazing down into her brown eyes with burning intensity. All the love that a good man gives to a pure, beautiful girl showed in their depths.

“O, don’t worry about anything serious resulting from my acquaintance with Mr. Stuart; he’s probably engaged to some pretty girl in Kentucky,” she smiled reassuringly. “Now, let’s not discuss him any longer. Here we are at home,” as they came in view of a tall, stately mansion

The Dawn of a New Era n

towering majestically from its position in the center of the lawn where grand old elms, oaks, and willow trees were grouped in silent splendor.

“Won’t you come in, Jack?” Sybil asked pleasantly.

“No, thank you, Syb; I thought I would, but it’s getting late, and I’d better not. Good-by.”

“Nonsense! Come in at once.”

They had been mounting the stone steps as she spoke, and now he held the door open for her as she entered. He followed her immediately. The home of the Huntington’s was large and beautiful — a veritable old Southern palatial mansion. General Huntington had had it remodeled after the war, and it was now even more splendid and magnificent than it had heretofore been.

Sybil led the way to a vine-arbor, and seated herself beside Jack in a hammock.

“It’s heaven to be out here with you,” he began. “I’d ask for no greater bliss than to be near you always ”

“What a sentimental boy he is! I know you don’t mean a word of it.” Her laughing eyes challenged him. “Besides, let’s talk of something besides love all the time.”

“O, Syb, can’t you be serious for just a moment? I’m in no mood for frivolity to-day; I have never been more earnest in my life. You know, Syb, darling, my greatest desire on earth has been and always shall be to have you for my own little wife, my very own to have and to hold forever, and somehow a strange feeling of doubt has taken possession of me lately, a strange fear that I can’t fathom and that is tearing my very heart-strings. O, Syb, my own little sweetheart, tell me that there is no one living that can come between us.” He took her dainty little hands in his and pressed them with ardent fervor. “Syb, can’t you marry me now?”

“Don’t, Jack,” and she quickly rose to her feet. “You have so many things before you,” she went on feverishly. “You don’t need me yet ”

He had arisen, and was clasping her hands tightly in his. At her last words, he only pressed them closer and started to protest vehemently, but she stopped him.

“Jack, Jack, you forget the great opportunities that are yours. Think of your unusual talents, your great wealth.”

“Syb, all I want in this great world I am holding in my hands right now.”

She quickly withdrew her hands. “I’ll answer you some other time, Jack,” she said nervously. “I must go in now, it’s getting late. Mother will be getting uneasy. Won’t you come in the house?”

He slowly shook his head as he looked at her hungrily. How he loved her!

“Good-by, Jack,” he heard her say. “Come to see me soon; I’ve some new songs that we can try over.” She hurried past him and disappeared into the house.

“I wish I didn’t worship her so ! If she really cares for that fellow, Stuart, I think it’ll about kill me. I can’t — can’t bear this suspense much longer,” he sighed as he walked slowly away.

Chapter II

G eneral john j. Huntington

had had extensive business interests in and around Charlotte, a little southern town in Tennessee, for many years, and was very influential in both the social and religious life of that community.

General Huntington was a large man of dignified bearing, with a firm mouth and chin that plainly expressed determination and strength. At times, his gentle, refined little wife was almost afraid of his stern, austere manner, though he was always good and kind to her.

“Isn’t it getting rather late for Sybil to be out, my dear?” asked General Huntington in a worried tone to his wife.

They were seated in the large living-room of their handsome home as he spoke. It was three days after Sybil’s encounter with Jack.

No sooner had he spoken than the old General felt soft-slender fingers cover his eyes, and a merry, musical voice exclaimed: “Guess who?” “That’s my baby; kiss me!”

Sybil was their only child, two others having 14 died in infancy, and now this lovely young girl was their pride and joy.

“Where have you been?” asked her father, smiling down into the winsome face. “We have just dined, and missed our little girl’s cheerful company greatly.”

“O, Dad, you forget I’m not your little girl any longer,” she interrupted quickly. “I will soon be a big, grown-up lady and folks will call me ‘Miss Sybil.’ ”

“I do hate to see my little girl get grown,” he said tenderly. “It almost breaks her old dad’s heart.”

“You will have to be very careful, ‘Miss Huntington,’ when you go abroad next summer,” her mother said merrily; “you will have to be very, very careful.”

“Don’t — don’t you call me that!” the girl cried, pretending to be very angry. “Do you hear? I won’t stand for it !”

Her mother smiled fondly. “Dearie, I don’t see how I am to part with you next summer,” she said. “Of course, I wouldn’t have you miss your trip for anything, but the place will seem so lonely without your bright presence to cheer it. Still, you must go, and your father and I have been planning it all afternoon. You must cultivate your voice, especially. I think you have the most beautiful one I have ever heard.”

“Love sees through rose-colored glasses, mother, dear,” the young voice said quietly.

“Perhaps, my dear, but every one acknowledges that you have an exceptional voice. I think you will make a fortune with it some day.”

“I don’t want to make a fortune.”

“All right, darling, but you can sing beautifully anyhow. Who would you like to accompany you on your trip? The General and I have been racking our brains for a suitable chaperon.”

“I don’t want to go abroad,” the girl said slowly. “I have decided to stay right here with you and Dad.”

“Look at me, Sybil,” she heard her father say sternly.

Sybil had made up her mind a short time ago that she would not make the trip, but had put off telling her parents, from day to day, fearing their displeasure. She knew their hearts had been set on this trip, and now as her father spoke, she faced him instantly, but with a trembling heart.

“Yes, Daddy,” she smiled, in a vain attempt to speak brightly.

“How about this big lawyer from Kentucky? He hasn’t been putting any fool ideas into your pretty head, has he?” He looked at her keenly. “I don’t quite understand his frequent visits here. I’ll admit he’s a fine-looking fellow, but what do you know about him or his people?”

Sybil blushed, but replied firmly: “I know he’s a perfect gentleman, Daddy, dear.”

“You know nothing of the kind,” the old gentleman retorted impatiently. “Don’t encourage his coming here too much.”

“Why, Mr. Stuart’s splendid, Daddy!” she defended hotly. “Everybody is talking about that magnificent speech he made in the Douglass case last court; and I think he is the most clever young man I’ve talked to in a long time.” She hesitated a moment, then changed her tone. “Mr. Stuart is just a friend of mine — that’s all. I don’t think seriously of any one but you and Mother. Now, kiss me, and I’ll go and eat dinner, for I’m hungry as a bear.”

They kissed her and General Huntington said lovingly, “All right, pet, run along, and when you have finished dinner come back and play and sing Dad’s favorite.”

He watched the slender, graceful figure disappear, and, turning to his wife, remarked, “Do you think it possible that she cares more for that big lawyer than for Jack?”

“I’m inclined to believe Sybil is very interested in Mr. Stuart,” his wife replied thoughtfully. “He seems to be a poor boy and I think he has had a hard time trying to make a success. He appears to be very ambitious also, and Sybil wishes to encourage him. I think, however, when she has been away from him a while she will forget him.”

Sybil’s silvery voice interrupted them, “Mother, did you see the flowers Jack sent me. They’re perfectly beautiful. He’s a dear old boy.” She spoke affectionately.

“Yes, I have seen them.”

“Have you forgotten what I want, Baby?” interrupted her father.

“No, Daddy, I haven’t forgotten; I’m ready right now.”

Chapter III

O N the glorious, moonlight night of Sybil Huntington’s eighteenth birthday, the old residence of the Huntingtons shone in all its splendor. The stately old trees reflecting their shadows on the perfectly kept lawns, the perfume from the lovely flower-borders, and the sweet strains of music from the orchestra floating on the breezes, were an inspiration to the arriving guests.

Inside the brilliantly lighted mansion could be heard the jolly voices and merry laughter of the happy young people. The young hostess had never appeared more beautiful than on this occasion. She was dressed in a delicately tinted gown of chiffon and taffeta. Her silky, golden-brown hair was done in a simple psyche at the back of her perfect head, and, falling loosely about her forehead, it seemed to form a frame around the lovable, laughing brown eyes which were on fire with excitement to-night. Her only jewels were an exquisite rope of pearls around her white throat.

Her slender little figure was the embodiment of youth and grace, and with her sweet, winning 19 smile and refined, cultured manner, Gilbert Stuart, watching her every move, thought her a picture of maidenly perfection. Sybil had written him that she would be glad to have him come on this occasion and meet some of her friends. With a heart full of joy, he had responded to her invitation.

“Who is the man with the handsome face and noble physique looking at Sybil so adoringly ?” asked Mable Greene of her companion.

“Why, that’s Mr. Gilbert Stuart, the talented young lawyer of western Kentucky. He’s a brilliant speaker, if I’m a judge of oratory. I heard his speech in the Douglass case. By George, if it wasn’t the best thing I ever listened to,” answered Roy Parker, enthusiastically.

“Isn’t he crazy about Sybil!”

“You bet he is. She’s rather fond of him, too, I think.”

“But Jack — how does he take it?”

“Say, look here, let’s cut out this talk of people who aren’t thinking of us. You’re more interesting to me. I move we discuss you.”

The girl blushed brightly, but the music started and they began dancing.

“Sybil,” whispered Stuart, as the music stopped, “please let me talk to you during the next dance.

I don’t want to dance, and I have something to say to you.”

Sybil smiled at him sweetly. “We won’t have time for that to-night. You must remember that I am hostess, Mr. Stuart.”

“You know that I must leave in the morning and won’t see you again for a whole month. Please, let’s go out on the balcony,” he pleaded passionately.

She shook her head. “I promised Jack the next dance.”

Stuart bit his lip in annoyance. “Well, then, will you do as I ask after the dance with Jack?”

“Perhaps; I can’t promise,” was the evasive answer, and she offered her arm to Jack, who gazed at her fondly as they disappeared through the crowd.

“Darn that fresh cur! I’ll make it a point to see that he doesn’t have any more dances with Sybil to-night,” muttered Stuart under his breath.

“Why aren’t you dancing, Mr. Stuart?” asked a fresh young voice, as Sybil’s best girl friend, Dorothy Courtney, approached him. Stuart turned instantly and offered her his hand.

“You’re the very one I want to talk to; but, pardon me — do you want to dance?”

“Not unless you do. I’m a little bit tired.”

“Then it’s talk, is it? There are some mighty important things I want to ask you. Will you?” His tone dropped to one of earnestness.

“Why, my dear Mr. Lawyer, I’ll be delighted to tell you anything I know,” Dorothy replied carelessly, with a laugh.

“I’m coming right to the point then, no matter how I may astonish you. Tell me, is Miss Huntington a flirt?”

“Sybil — a flirt? You are funny, Mr. Lawyer. What put that notion into your handsome head?”

“I see you are determined to joke,” he said, smiling. “Well, will you answer this? Do you think she really cares at all for me? I’ve been in love with her from the first time I saw her,” he continued, not giving her an opportunity to answer. “She’s just the ideal I’ve dreamed of all my life.”

“Surely it isn’t so serious. Of course, Syb likes you. How could she help it?” with a saucy little toss of her head.

Stuart laughed at that, but resumed in the same serious tone, “You know what I mean. Certainly she ‘likes’ me, but I don’t want to know that. I want you, who are her best friend and with her constantly, to tell me whether she really cares for me; whether she cares for Carpenter more than me? I’ve begged and begged and she won’t tell me. Therefore, it’s up to you.”

“Awfully sorry, Mr. Stuart, but I don’t betray confidences. You’ll have to keep on begging until she answers you.”

“All right. I’ll say you are a born and bred tormentor, Miss Courtney.”

“O, no ! You painfully misjudge me,” she cried in a mock-serious tone.

“You’ll at least let me know how long she has been acquainted with that fellow,” he began again after a while.

“That fellow? I don’t understand,” she said sweetly. “O, perhaps it’s dear old Jackie you are referring to. Certainly, I’ll answer that, Mr. Stuart. Syb and Jack have been playmates and sweethearts ever since they were babies. He simply adores her now.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that. I hope she doesn’t return the feeling?”

“She’s awfully fond of him.”

“I’m going to stop questioning you. You’ll drive me mad with a few more such replies.”

“Now, Mr. Stuart, answer me truthfully. Don’t you think Jack is a fine boy? How could Sybil refuse him with his great wealth and aristocratic family?” the girl demanded suddenly.

“That should not be in the question if a woman truly loves a man. As for myself, I have no money, but I have something that is much better — undaunted energy and great ambition to excel,” he returned slowly, with a strange fire burning in his eyes.

Dorothy looked surprised. “Why, Mr. Stuart, those are Jack’s qualities exactly.”

“I tell you Jack’s sole ambition in life is to make money; mine, to be a leader of men and I will be some day,” he added in a low tone. “I hope to be governor of my state before many years have passed.”

“Is that so? Your aspirations are very high indeed, Mr. Stuart. I only hope you will realize them,” she said in a queer, incredulous tone.

“Of course, Miss Courtney, you don’t believe me, but I hope some day to prove to you that what I am saying is the truth.”

The music ceased and in a few moments Sybil’s laughing voice interrupted the conversation.

“You two seem to be mightily interested in your discussion,” she laughed.

“Hope we haven’t interrupted,” cried Jack, who was by her side.

“O, no, not at all. We were watching for your return,” replied Stuart, quietly.

“Were you? It didn’t appear that way,” laughed Sybil.

“I think I’ve just about persuaded Sybil to favor us with a song,” Jack remarked.

“O do! Won’t that be grand?” Dorothy enthused.

Sybil glanced up at Stuart quickly with unconscious inquiry in her lustrous eyes.

“I think it would be fine,” was the hasty answer.

Before any one else had time to speak, a charming lady of about fifty entered the group, and, glancing at Sybil, said: “Daughter, they keep insisting that you sing.”

Sybil bade the others a merry farewell, and started toward the magnificent piano with her mother. As Mrs. Huntington lightly touched the keys, a hush fell on the great assembly of young people in anticipation of hearing Sybil Huntington’s wonderful voice in song. The song was one of her mother’s favorites, entitled “Spring,” and one that Sybil sang with unusual feeling. The guests were held spell-bound as her sweet, bird-like voice rang out full and clear.

Only once did Sybil cast her eyes toward Stuart, and as she did so, he felt as if some divine power had touched him, and his heart throbbed.

“She shall be mine and mine alone, if I have to move Heaven and Hell to get her!”

Chapter IV

Y OU see I have kept my promise, Mr.

Stuart,” said the happy voice as Sybil smiled up into his face.

“Yes, but I knew you would. Sybil, that song you sang was the most wonderful thing I ever listened to in my life. Your priceless voice? Sweetheart, I imagined I was in Heaven with the angels about me, for the music in Heaven could be no more beautiful!”

“Hush! You are quite overwhelming in your extravagant praise,” she laughed joyously.

“I determined to own the bird that sang that song,” he continued vehemently. “Sybil, you have put me off long enough; you’ve driven me mad with your constant evading. When I ask you if you love me, you always reply meaninglessly. I love you better than life. Sweetheart, don’t you love me a little?” he pleaded in passionate tones.

She felt instinctively that now she must be serious. She stole a glance at the tall, commanding figure before her. How very, very handsome he was ! Sybil knew she loved him even as he 26 loved her. What a masterful way he had of speaking, yet how lovingly he addressed her! For a moment, Jack’s appealing, boyish face flashed over her. How it would hurt Jack if she should wed Stuart, but she did not love Jack as he wished and never could. Her admiration for him was great, and she liked him exceedingly, that was all.

But with Stuart — her feeling for him was entirely different. She loved him as a woman loves the man she intends to marry. Sybil had never made known to any one her love for the big Kentucky lawyer, though not a few had guessed it. She knew her parents would object strongly. Mrs. Huntington liked Stuart and admired his talents; it ended there. She loved Jack as a son; and her father did also. He had always made her understand that she was to marry Jack when she was old enough, and she had always declared that she cared nothing for Jack save as a friend, but he would laugh at her and tell her that girls did not marry for love these days anyhow. At that, Sybil would smile strangely and declare that she would never marry unless she loved the man she married, very much.

From the first, Stuart had fascinated her, and, after she had been with him a few times, she began to fall in love with him, and now that she had known him nearly a year, she almost worshiped him.

“Sybil!” he broke in on her revery. “Dear, won’t you give me an answer! I leave before daylight in the morning. What an indescribable comfort it would be to me to have the sweet assurance of your love, my darling. I know that it means much that you would have to give up to marry me, and I’m a selfish brute to ask you to do it, but oh, dearest, my great love pleads for me. I can not live without you ! You are my inspiration, my light, my joy. I worship you. Will you, Sybil ”

The fair face flushed crimson, and she cast her eyes quickly down.

“Sybil, darling, tell me you’ll be my very own, dear!” He caught her hands with fervent eagerness and pressed them against his heart. With burning eyes, he gazed into her face and asked: “Don’t you love me a little, dearest?”

“Yes; I love you with all my heart.” She hesitated a moment, “I have always loved you, always.”

CHAPTER V J ACK, have you seen Sybil?”

“No, sir, not since she thrilled every one with that beautiful song a short while ago. Do you want her?” the boy replied in answer to General Huntington’s inquiry.

Jack was standing apart from the dancers near a window, with a strange, meditative look on his face. The old General’s face wore a frown as he answered.

“I do. I’m afraid she’s with that lawyer from Kentucky. I tell you, Jack, she’s going with that Stuart too much,” and the old gentleman stamped his foot angrily. “I’m sorry he ever came here,” he added. “I believe she’s half in love with him now.”

“I believe I’d just die if they were to marry,” Jack cried in low, desperate tones.

“Tut, tut! It’s nothing serious. Marry Stuart! My only daughter marry a poor, unknown stranger. Sybil, who has been used to every comfort and luxury that money could buy all her life, marry a pauper!” The old man was 29 becoming excited. “No, my boy, she’ll never do that. When she gets ready to marry, it’s you or no one 1”

“I wish I was as confident as you that she doesn’t care for Stuart. Oh, General Huntington, no one can ever love Sybil as I love her, and have loved her all my life!”

The General patted Jack reassuringly on the back. “Don’t worry, son. She’ll never wed Gilbert Stuart; I’ll see to that. But where is she? Her guests are wanting her. Excuse me, Jack, and I’ll go search for her,” and with a fatherly smile, he left him.

Jack sighed deeply, and an unaccountable feeling of hopelessness and foreboding came over him.

“Sybil Huntington, what in hell’s the meaning of this? Explain yourself instantly, young woman!” cried Huntington, so angry and surprised he could scarcely control himself.

He had searched everywhere for her and finally had come to the balcony where he found her encircled in Stuart’s arms. Sybil’s face turned scarlet for a moment, as she quickly disengaged herself. But before she could speak, Stuart’s low, calm voice rang out;

“Your daughter has promised to marry me, General Huntington. Won’t you be the first to congratulate us?”

“Congratulate you, the devil! I order you from these premises immediately, you fresh upstart! As for you, Sybil, I did not think you held yourself so cheap.”

“I don’t understand you, Father. You must not speak to Mr. Stuart in this manner again. I have promised to become his wife, and I shall do so,” she spoke quietly, yet firmly.

General Huntington seemed beside himself with rage. His hands shook so that he could barely hold his cane, and he cried in a trembling voice that he tried in vain to make steady:

“My daughter, I will not listen to any such tomfoolery a second longer. Go instantly into the house to your guests, and, Gilbert Stuart, you leave this place before you are kicked out for putting such devilish ideas into my daughter’s head.”

The dark, angry face of the big lawyer flushed grimly. “I am sorry you consider my proposal as you do, but if Sybil still remains true to me, I shall marry her. I will depart in a moment, but first I want a word with Sybil ”

“Leave, I say! Go! You shall never speak to my daughter again. .So you don’t intend to go, eh? Then it will be my painful duty ”

“Be careful, sir,” the deep voice said quietly, but the old man seemed not to hear him and was preparing to carry out his threat when Sybil threw herself between them.

“Father!” General Huntington fell back. “You will have to go now, my lover,” she whispered to Stuart. “But I’ll keep my promise. I am yours. I love you better than life ! When you come back, I’ll be ready. Now, sweetheart, good-by. I’ll be thinking of you every minute you are away.”

He pressed her to him without a word, but his eyes spoke volumes, and, as he turned to go Huntington’s voice roared passionately:

“Get away from here! Do you hear? You scoundrel! You ” but Stuart had disap-

peared.

For a while after he had gone, neither father nor daughter said a word. The General had dropped wearily on a bench near him, with head bowed, and Sybil had stood over him, her eyes burning with a strange fire. Presently, she spoke :