A Day of Fate

A Day of Fate

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Title: A Day Of Fate
Author: E. P. Roe
Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6113] [Yes, we are more than one
year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on November 11,
2002]
Edition: 10

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[Illustration: "SHE FELT MY PRESENCE AND LOOKED UP
QUICKLY."]
The Works of E. P. Roe
VOLUME FOURTEEN A DAY OF FATE
ILLUSTRATED 1880
PREFACE
"Some shallow story of deep love."
--Shakespeare

CONTENTS
BOOK FIRST
CHAPTER I
AIMLESS STEPS
CHAPTER II
A JUNE DAY DREAM
CHAPTER III
A SHINING TIDE
CHAPTER IV
REALITY

CHAPTER V
MUTUAL DISCOVERIES
CHAPTER VI
A QUAKER TEA
CHAPTER VII
A FRIEND
CHAPTER VIII
THE MYSTERY OF MYSTERIES
CHAPTER IX
"OLD PLOD"
CHAPTER X
A BIT OF EDEN
CHAPTER XI
"MOVED"
CHAPTER XII
ONE OF NATURE'S TRAGEDIES
CHAPTER XIII
THE LIGHTNING AND A SUBTLER FLAME
CHAPTER XIV
KINDLING A SPARK OF LIFE
CHAPTER XV
MY FATE
BOOK SECOND
CHAPTER I
THE DAY AFTER
CHAPTER II
"IT WAS INEVITABLE"
CHAPTER III
RETURNING CONSCIOUSNESS
CHAPTER IV
IN THE DARK
CHAPTER V
A FLASH OF MEMORY

CHAPTER VI
WEAKNESS
CHAPTER VII
OLD PLOD IDEALIZED
CHAPTER VIII
AN IMPULSE
CHAPTER IX
A WRETCHED FAILURE
CHAPTER X
IN THE DEPTHS
CHAPTER XI
POOR ACTING
CHAPTER XII
THE HOPE OP A HIDDEN TREASURE
CHAPTER XIII
THE OLD MEETING-HOUSE AGAIN
CHAPTER XIV
LOVE TEACHING ETHICS
CHAPTER XV
DON'T THINK OF ME
CHAPTER XVI
"RICHARD"
CHAPTER XVII
MY WORST BLUNDER
CHAPTER XVIII
MRS. YOCOMB'S LETTERS
CHAPTER XIX
ADAH
CHAPTER XX
THANKSGIVING DAY
CHAPTER XXI
RIPPLES ON DEEP WATER

BOOK FIRST

CHAPTER I
AIMLESS STEPS
"Another month's work will knock Morton into 'pi,'" was a remark that
caught my ear as I fumed from the composing-room back to my private
office. I had just irately blamed a printer for a blunder of my own, and
the words I overheard reminded me of the unpleasant truth that I had
recently made a great many senseless blunders, over which I chafed in
merciless self-condemnation. For weeks and months my mind had been
tense under the strain of increasing work and responsibility. It was my
nature to become absorbed in my tasks, and, as night editor of a
prominent city journal, I found a limitless field for labor. It was true I
could have jogged along under the heavy burden with comparatively
little wear and loss, but, impelled by both temperament and ambition, I
was trying to maintain a racer's speed. From casual employment as a
reporter I had worked my way up to my present position, and the
tireless activity and alertness required to win and hold such a place was
seemingly degenerating into a nervous restlessness which permitted no
repose of mind or rest of body. I worked when other men slept, but,
instead of availing myself of the right to sleep when the world was
awake, I yielded to an increasing tendency to wakefulness, and read
that I might be informed on the endless variety of subjects occupying
public attention. The globe was becoming a vast hunting-ground,
around which my thoughts ranged almost unceasingly that I might
capture something new, striking, or original for the benefit of our paper.
Each day the quest had grown more eager, and as the hour for going to
press approached I would even become feverish in my intense desire to
send the paper out with a breezy, newsy aspect, and would be elated if,
at the last moment, material was flashed in that would warrant startling
head-lines, and correspondingly depressed if the weary old world had a
few hours of quiet and peace. To make the paper "go," every faculty I
possessed was in the