Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1894-03-23

ton OF his own carriage Al Its steps
he paused and courteously turned To
the officer of the law, with regal air:
Before me, Mr. Moore"
Moore entered the vehicle. Sibley
stepped in after him. Old Cato clam
bered To his perch on the high old-fash-
toned box, and touched up his horses
brislly, IL was a grim home-going!
What fiction should he invent 10 ac-
count To Ida, the most fastidiously re-
served of women. for bringing a strange
man home with him To ms fathers
funeral? She would think him brute.
He was not good at lies. lie was sick
of shams, and of trying to parry fate's
spiteful thrusts. Should he say TO her,
with blunt truthfulness, that this beard
less boy, from whose cashmere trou-
ers-pockets pair of ugly handouts
were permitted To obtrude, was his
keeper?-that he was prisoner of the
law, wanted for the murder of his wife.
the little Ninette's mother? lie could
fancy his high-bred lda's horror and
disgust.
II would not pe an easy thing 10 DO.
1t grew harder even in the bare con-
the wheels brought him closer To the
home whose shelter he had spurned in
his hot boyish resentment ten years
ago. 1t grew to the proportions of a
CHASTITY impossibility, as the crunching
of the wheels on the graveled drive
brought TO the open front door of Glen
burnie touchingly helpless group.
Ida. rs tall and stately as some pure
white Easter lily, Ninette, his own lit
tie daughter, all a-futter with flaunt-
ing ribbons and crisp embroideries,
clinging to Ida's black draperies, and
old Dido, the old nanny who had
rocked him TO sleep in her withered
arms so many, many times in the long
ago.
They were waiting for him, watching
for him-gladof his homecoming, eager
for his home-staying.
He groaned aloud, and dropped his
head upon his breast
ais that all there is of them Moore
asked. looking out at the small feminine
group
THAT is all
mo men folks but you?"
'None."
Its hard lines. no mistake. ! wish
it wasn't me that had to tako you ava y
from them again tomorrow. Hanged
if | ever had a rougher job put on me-"
1T is creditable TO you 10 feel SO.
am obliged 10 you.
''Oh, as for that, it's natural to sup
pose that anybody in my line of bust
ness is brute but if you can think of
any way in which can soften this con-
sistently with my duty, command me. ."
Il cannot think at ALL" said Sibley,
leaning back among the moth-eaten
cushions of the old family coach, with Il
groan of helpless wretchedness.
81 have it," said Moore, briskly. Il
am a man prospecting for land. You
kindly gave me lift this far. Your
man puts YOU out at the front door and
drives away with me. He can hide me
somewhere, The day after the-after
the"
The funeral is set for tomorrow,
said Sibley, steadily. THE boat that
brought us mp returns from Vicksburg
tomorrow night viii be there"
Il will trust you! never felt surer
of man since went into the bust
ness"
Thank you"
They were at the front door. Cato
drew up with a jerk. Sibley let him
self out, and. giving Cato an order in a
low tone, turned slowly and hesEating-
iy towards the little group in the door
way
Moorc's device had given him respite
only-a very short one at that. Ida's
arms were about him. Her wet cheek
lay against his Dido's sobs were ring
ing in his ears Ninette was standing
shyly alIbf, looking on with grave wa.
der at this dismal scene of welcome
"Auntie!'' she spoke presently, sharp,
rebuking words, you said my papa was
coming 10 make us all glad and happy.
He has come, and you and nanny Dido
DO nothing but cry and wipe your eyes
on your handkerchiefs. Is that my
rapa?'
Sibley put Ida away from him and
;urned towards the small Pathfinder.
lie held out his hands
lis that my Ninette? Do you not re-
member me, child? Have you not the
faintest recollection of me? No love at
all to give me?"
At each yearning question Ninette
shook her small golden head in grave
eyed ncgation Then, in rapid cres-
cendo:-
Il remember my Norrie! remember
| Uncle John, and Dick. and RATE, and
| and Celeste. But you-never! Auntie
Ida said my papa was the most beauti-
full man in the world. She showed me
his picture, and made me kiss it every
day, and taught me to pray God bless
my papa every night. But you don't
look one bit like my papa's picture; not
one tiny little speck."
He drew back his suppliant hands.
LET her be-" he said, as Dido whis-
pered reproach in her pink ear. Let
her continue TO worship the unreal
father you have all made her acquainted
with. Where does our father lie, Ida?''
Ida turned, and, with her hand rest
ing upon his arm, led the way towards
the drawing-room, where all that was
left of Ames Fairbanks lay in state