The Jennings daily record. [volume] (Jennings, La.) 1900-1903, 1901-10-26

est 1ngenue ever created by PinerO
and company. Come back, and I'll in
vite you again, and give you a lovely
cushioned chair all to- yourself, and
sing reveries and cradle-songs and
love-songs-oh yes, especially love-
songs-to you till you shut your
mouth with kisses-what am l saying?
No, no, let us be careful, and cold
surtout cold. But one little kiss does
not matter, does it? Just before one
goes out into the |night-which is so
callous, SO Indifferent. And so L bid
you farewell, Tommy dear. Hope for
letter next week. 1t will mean my
luck is in. Your Fleurette.
CHEZ PAPA.
cts no good, Dad, I've stuck to it
six months and it's killing me by
inches. I'll have to CO.
They We're seated in the big book
lined library. Thomas Griffiths, sem
ior, upright in his red 1eathern chair,
calm and dignified, observed his son
from beneath acute, shaggy eyebrows.
$50 i see. It's the young blood again. ~
he sighed. 81 thought You had sown
Your oats, but it seems there's still
a plentiful crop"
y
be steady as the Inchcape Rock,
butt must get away. I'm choking"
Cant brook restraint. Home ties
what are they? Brittle as paper,
solid as water. My son!'' He turned
over the leaves of the ''Graphic'' with
a large paper-knife, and let his eyes
rest vacantfy on the pictures. Sud
denly he spoke again.
you tell me who and what she is?"
The roots of Tommy's hair b1ushed
a quivering red.
"There's no woman" he said after
a pause.
land before the cock crows We
shall deny me thrice!' O love!'
Through the stained-glass window
fell shafts from the westering sun.
Long shadows lay across the thick
pile carpet, the face of the old man
cleaned like the emotionless stern
ness of a sculpture in the dying light.
"Iou are choosing, Thomas" he
said at last. My way or thy way.
There is no going back. My fortune
goes to your sister if you thwart me.
can allow you nothing any more.''
81 can't stick it, dad he repeated
but the fever's in my blood. The bat
theories drown the voice of agricul-
ture.''
"1ou are not in the army?''
''The battle-cry of life. dad, of the
world-the struggling-the swimming
to shore, the huzzas, the champagne
l must get back to it, sink or SWIM"
Mr.. Gritfiths rose. 81 don't speak
I,r,
the old school, 1 suppose You have
gone beyond me. Unless you change
your mind before tomorrow week our
ways lie apart. Do not seek to alter
my decision. You know my-shall we
call it-obstinacy? Good-night.''
Upstairs in the boudoir of his dead
wife Thomas Griffiths. senior. I'M
locked an escritoire. Drawing out a
miniature of little lad in a Scotch
suit. he held it to the light. while dag
onal lines from nostril to mouth
deepened into ploughed burrows.
He should have been named Alb
salon." he said bitterly.
VII.
FLEURETTE.
y familiar knock drew Fleurette
bolt upright. She waited breathlesslv.
The door handle was impatiently
turned and a sunburnt man stood
bareheaded in the middle of the room
Tommy"
Tommy didn't say anything. He
devoured her with his eyes. from the
sober serge gown to the baneleless
wrists.
What does it mean. Fleurette p"
She laughed, but the blood fiared in
her cheeks.
What an awful time since I've seen
you? [ believe you've grown"
What does it mean, Fleurette?"
What does what mean? Don't be
SO silly, Tommy. You look as if you
were going to eat me-
Tell me, please
Don't you like it?''
Tommy spoke slowly. mo, I like
the gew-gaws. frills and things.
Where are they?"
I've changed-tired of them. I'm
capricious. You haven't said YOUR
glad to see me-
He looked at her wit h such intensity
that she stirred uneasily.
Come and tell me all you've seen
and done. I've been hungerinr for
you"
us that true?"
"Of course not. Do You think I
should say so if it was? | want to be
polite
They sat down, and n strained ST
lence fell between them. Tommy
broke it diffidently.
I've got billet with a chap who