Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1898-09-08

Io you huOW, shS salu III al uWeu,
childish way, Il like him?'
"All women like him, snapped Dr.
Ericsson.
do they?''
Its feminine instinct which moth
ing can kill to like the man who domi-
mates you--and who can do without
your
"Well. go on, she said, leacing
closer.
Women and their affairs, said DR.
Ericsson, lighting cigar, engage Da.
vid Temples thoughts very little. He
is not intolerant, he is simply indiffer-
emit, although most masculine in the
gentleness coming from consciousness
of his own strength. 1t seems to me as
if woman could never fill his many
sided life. There are men born with the
love of woman in their being, and it
grows with their growth To possess it
too strenuously weakens character and
| often perverts what should be rever-
ence into TASTE To possess it with a
! separateness from the other interests of
fife suggests the lack of some vital and
spiritual fiber. I've felt this with Da-
! lid. If he ever marries, it will be be.
sause his intellect suggests it as wis
or because his physical nature is en-
saved. The two will scarcely blend.
''Tas, he suggests all you say. JOY
Che way, wat - Donald Sefain--his
sGepornHher?"
"OE. - w. LAX ains,~
"This afternoon. His face haunted
me all the way home.
81 see you have Vaudel's Desert
Monk on your shelf. You've read it.
The pictures are Donald Sefain's Fine,
aren't they? half believe he made
them just to show what he could do,
and then from 'cussedness' flung down
| his pen. He's done no serious work
since.
"Do tell me about him." and Anne,
leaving the table, wheeled low arm
chair to DR.. Ericsson's knee.
Its bit of story. Can you reach
me match? Thank you, my dear. This
is very cozy." He sat back and half
closed his eyes, "When David Temple
was about Is, his father, as hard and
stern a man as ever lived, married a
Frenchwoman, a widow with boy of
G. Some people know and a great many
suspect there never was Mr.. Sefain,
and the boy Donald was as surely John
Temples son as David, for whom he'd
have cut out his eyes; he loved him SO.
Well, Mrs. Sefain was beautiful wom-
an, an adventures with the manners of
duchess. l never saw her in G. bro.
cade dress without thinking how we'll
she'd look on one Of those little pompa-
dour fans, all covered with roses and
things. Donald is the picture of her. /
think his eyes and smile-the latter too
rare, God help him--would glorify a
plain face into beauty. After five years
of the most absolutely perfect marital
misery Donald's mother died, and he
was left in old John Temples care. It
was hard fate.
"Why? He didn't like him?"
Like him? He hated him as only an
intolerant, conscientious man can hate.
Donald was constant reproach to him
and reminder of his married unhappi.
ness He never let David be friends
with him, never. You see, Donald
hadn't fair chance He was lonely
little soul. -
"Why didn't he set his teeth and
make something of HIMSELF" said Anne
with the defiance of champion.
"Ah, that's what he should have
done exactly But he didn't. Instead,
at 90, after leaving John Temples
house he went from bad to worse His
face today bears scars of the odds against
him. He's failure. tried to get near
him, but he wouldn't let me be his
friend. It is one of his perversities to
affect the poor and mingle with the I'M
fortunate, Anything prosperous inspires
a morbid dislike in him; all that's de-
formed, summed; all that lies in shadow
finds favor in his sight. He's strange
and silent creature, drinking fevershly,
cultivating his worst instincts, finding
an unreasonable satisfaction in Offering
himself as a sacrifice to the discomfort
instilled into him through the circum.
stances of his life. :"
81 don't understand why he's on The
Citizen with David Temple"
"Oh, he simply does work for that as
we'll as few other papers! He's brim-
full of talent. David employs him as he
would a stranger and pays him for what
work he turns in. He's seldom in the
Office.
The clock struck 8, and DR.. Ericsson
started up.
GOOD heavens! And sick man not
mile away is waiting for metz
He got into his coat, kissed her and
hurried away.
She carried the bowl of roses from
the table to the mantel and stood for q
moment with her hands upon them,
look of disquietude in her eyes, She
was thinking Of Donald Sefain.
CHAPTER ".
fresh bright afternoon a vaoroot