e chagrin of an army of suitors, she married an
artist named Jason Jones, whose talent, it was said, was not so great
as his luck. So far, his fame rested on his being "Tony Seaver's
husband." But Tony's hobby was art, and she had recognized real worth,
she claimed, in Jason Jones' creations. On her honeymoon she carried
her artist husband to Europe and with him studied the works of the
masters in all the art centers of the Continent. Then, enthusiastic and
eager for Jason's advancement, she returned with him to New York and
set him up in a splendid studio where he had every convenience and
incentive to work.

So much the world at large knew. It also knew that within three years
Mrs. Antoinette Seaver Jones separated from her husband and, with her
baby girl, returned West to live. The elaborate Jones studio was
abandoned and broken up and the "promising young artist" disappeared
from the public eye. Mrs. Jones, a thorough business woman, had
retained her fortune in her own control and personally attended to her
investments. She became noted as a liberal patron of the arts and a
generous donor to worthy charities. In spite of her youth, wealth, and
beauty, she had no desire to shine in society and lived a somewhat
secluded life in luxurious family hotels, attending with much
solicitude to the training and education of her daughter Alora.

At first she had made Denver her home, but afterward migrated from one
middle-west city to another until she came to Chicago, where she had
now lived for nearly three years, occupying the most expensive suite of
rooms at the very exclusive Hotel Voltaire.

Alora fairly worshipped her beautiful mother and although Mrs.
Antoinette Seaver Jones was considered essentially cold and unemotional
by those who knew her casually, there was no doubt she prized her child
as her dearest possession and lavished all the tenderness and love of
which she was capable upon her.

Retrospectively, Doctor Anstruther considered this historical revue of
his fair patient as he sat facing her. It seemed a most unhappy fate
that she should be cut off in the flower of her womanhood, but her case
was positively hopeless, and she knew it and had accepted the harsh
verdict without a murmur. Bravery had always been Tony Seaver's prime
characteristic. To Doctor Anstruther it seemed that she might as well
know the truth which she had demanded from his lips.

"This disease is one that accelerates toward the end," he