Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1903-12-17

Q01te SeI 00e0 Oh u R00W ,y02y II IN
not a Catholic. I vaguely remember q
sweet woman who taught me to pray
IKE this: Our Father who art in heav.
en-, hallowed be thy name.'"
And Alice went ON through the bean.
tiful and perfect prayer. which she re-
pcated in English with infinite sweet.
ness and solemnity. her eyes uplifted.
her hands clasped before her. Bcver.
ley could have sworn that she was a
shining saint and that he saw an au-
reole.
II Know" she continued. "that some
time. somewhere. to a very dear per-
son. promised that never. never. never
would pray any prayer but that. and
remember almost nothing else about
that other life. which is far of back
yonder in the past. don't know where
sweet, peaceful, shadowy. dream
that have all but lost from my mind"
Beverley's sympathy was deeply
moved. He sat for some minutes look
ing at her without speaking. She. too,
was pensive and silent. while the fire
sputtered and sang. the great logs
slowly melting, the flames tossing
wisps of smoke into the chimney still
booming to the wind.
II know. too. that am not French"
she presently resumed, but l don't
know just how / know it, My first
words must have been English. for !
have always dreamed &c talking in that
language. and my dimmcst half recol-
lections of the old days are of Il large.
white house and a soft voiced black
woman, who sang to me i'll that Ian
guage the Very sweetest songs in the
world
Beverley listened as one who hears a
clever reader intoning a strange and
captivating poem. To his mind it was
clear that she belonged to the Tarle-
ton family Of Virginia. Youth always
concludes matter at once. He knew
some Of the Tarletons. But 1t was a
widely scattered family. it's members
living in almost every colony in Amer
ica. The crest he recognized at
glance by the dragon on the helmet
with three stars. 1t was not for wo-
man to bear. But doubtless it had
been enameled on the locket merely as
a family mark. as was often done in
America.
'The black woman was your nurse.
your nanny" he said. II know by
that and by your prayer in English as
well as by your locket that you are Of
good old family"
Like most southerners he had strong
faith in genealogy, and he held at his
tongues tip the names of all the old
families. The Carriers, the Blairs, the
Fitzhughs, the Hansons, the Ran
dolphs, the Lees, the Ludwells, the
Joneses. the Beverleys. the Tarletons-
whole catalogue Of them stretched
back in his memory. He knew the
coat Of arms displayed by each house.
He could repeat their legends.
Il wish you could tell me MORE" he
went on. Cant you recollect any
thing further about your early child
hood, your first impressions-the house,
the woman who taught you to pray.
the old black nanny? Any little thing
might be of priceless value as evil
dence.''
There is absolutely nothing more to
TELL" she said. "All my life have
tried to remember more, but it's i'm
possible; can't get any further back
or call up another thing. There's no
use trying. It's all like dream; prob
ably it is one. do have such dreams.
In my sleep can lift myself into the
air just as easy and fly back to the
same big white house that seem to
remember. When you told me about
your home it was like something that
had often seen before. shall be
dreaming about it next"
Beverley cross questioned her from
every possible point of view. He was
fascinated with the mystery, but she
gave him nothing out of which the
least further light could be drawn. a
half breed woman, it seemed, had been
her Indian foster mother, a silent,
grave, watchful guardian from whom
not a hint of disclosure ever fell. She
was moreover a Christian woman who
had received her conversion from an
English speaking Protestant mission
ary. She prayed with Alice, thus keep
ing in the child's mind perfect men,
DRY Of the Lords prayer.
"Well," said Beverley at last, you
are more Of a mystery to me the Ion
ger l know you"
'Then must grow every day more
distasteful to you"
mo; love mystery"
He went away feeling new web Of
interest binding him to this inscrutable
maiden whose life seemed to him at
once SO full Of idyllic happiness and so
enshrouded in tantalizing doubt. At
the first opportunity he frankly ques-
toned NJ. Roussillon, with no helpful
result. The big Frenchman told the
same meager story. The woman was
dying in the time Of great epidemic
which killed most Of her tribe. She
gave Alice to NJ. Roussillon, but told
him not word about her ancestry or
previous life. That was all.
A wise old man when he finds him
self in a blind alley no sooner touches
ha oh