A Fool in Spots

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[Illustration: “‘She is beautiful!’ he exclaimed.” Page 77.]

A FOOL IN SPOTS

by

HALLIE ERMINIE RIVES.

Illustrated.

Published by Woodward & Tiernan Printing Co. St. Louis.

Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1894, by Woodward & Tiernan Printing Co. St. Louis. Mo., In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. All Rights Reserved.

To my dear Mother and Father.

CONTENTS.

Page CHAPTER I.

TWO ARTISTS 7

CHAPTER II.

DREAMS AND SCHEMES 20

CHAPTER III.

AN HONEST MAN’S HONEST LOVE 31

CHAPTER IV.

IN THE SOCIAL REALM 37

CHAPTER V.

THE IMAGE OF BEAUTIFUL SIN 44

CHAPTER VI.

WHITE ROSES 52

CHAPTER VII.

THE CALL OF A SOUL 57

CHAPTER VIII.

LIFE’S NIGHT WATCH 62

CHAPTER IX.

A KENTUCKY STOCK FARM 68

CHAPTER X.

THE BIRTH MARK 75

CHAPTER XI.

HEARTS LAID BARE 87

CHAPTER XII.

SUNLIGHT 97

CHAPTER XIII.

THE PICTURESQUE SPORT 103

CHAPTER XIV.

WEDDED 108

CHAPTER XV.

CHLORAL 113

CHAPTER XVI.

A BOLD INTRUDER 120

CHAPTER XVII.

AN ERRAND OF MYSTERY 130

CHAPTER XVIII.

A TIMELY WARNING 140

CHAPTER XIX.

A PLAINT OF PAIN 146

CHAPTER XX.

A CROP OF KISSES 151

CHAPTER XXI.

A HOPE OF CHANGE 156

CHAPTER XXII.

THE HOME IN THE SOUTH 160

CHAPTER XXIII.

A STRANGE DEPARTURE 172

CHAPTER XXIV.

OF THE WORLD, UNWORLDLY 183

CHAPTER XXV.

TEMPTED 193

CHAPTER XXVI.

LOST FAITH 197

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE CUP OF WRATH AND TREMBLING 203

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A DROP OF POISON 207

CHAPTER XXIX.

ROBERT’S TRIUMPH 211

CHAPTER XXX.

SHADOWING HER 216

CHAPTER XXXI.

GONE 219

CHAPTER XXXII.

STORMING THE LION’S DEN 222

CONCLUSION 232

A FOOL IN SPOTS.

CHAPTER I.

TWO ARTISTS.

They were seated tete-a-tete at a dinner table.

“Tell me why you have never married, Milburn,” and the steel eyes in Willard Frost’s face searched through his glasses.

Robert Milburn’s answer was a shrug, and a long cloud of smoke blown back at the glowing end of his cigar.

“Tell me why,” persisted the keen-eyed Frost.

“Because it is too expensive a luxury; besides, a man who has affianced a career like mine must take that for his bride,” was Robert’s answer.

“Admitting there is warmth and color in some of your artistic creations, old fellow, I should think you would find these scarcely available of winter nights, eh?”

Robert laughed; his laugh was short, though, and bitter. He had taken keen pleasure in the cynical worldly wisdom and unsentimental judgment of this man.

“If you can’t afford the wife, then let the wife afford you,” began Frost’s logical reasoning. “You have brain, muscle and youth. Marry them to that necessary adjunct which you do not possess, and which the government refuses to supply. This is perfectly practical. The whole question of marriage is too much a matter of sentiment; too little a matter of judgment. Now, the son of a millionaire without an idea above his raiment and his club, devoid of morals and of brains, marries the daughter of a silver king. What is the result? A race of vulgar imbeciles.”