New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1903-08-11
CHAPTER III.


My father was never the same again. The
loss Of fortune had tried him; but if my mother
had lived he might have become his old genial
self once more. Without her, however. life lost
it's charm. Only the necessity of caring for
me prevented him from killing himself This
he frankly acknowledged. Lord Ebbrides, his
sworn friend. deserted him. Perhaps Charles
Derohan poor proved too dull a companion for
gay man. Lord Ebbrides neither came to
my mothers funeral nor expressed sympathy
for us in our sorrow. He left Paris at once,
and my father never saw him again. Cray. his
valet and confidential man. came for the emer-
aids and-married Julie. My father gave her
handsome dot, though he could i'll spare the
money.
She served your mother faithfully Athena"
he said
Our house in Paris was given up, and my
father. before sailing for New-York. placed me
in the care Of a melancholy French lady who
lived in the country. He had hoped to retrieve
his shattered fortunes, but his efforts met with
no success. He not fitted for business.
Poverty, the necessity Of asking favors, broke
him down. When 1 went to him, ten months
later, he had grown old man.
was fourteen when first saw the fiat, green
meadows and gray dunes Of Long Island.
love the eastern end of that strange length Of
old gray farmhouse, half a mile from the sea.
we set up housekeeping. For five years. win
ter and summer. I lived there often quite
alone but too busy to be lonely. as I took en-
tire charge of the house. grew proud OF my
skill in cooking My cake in demand at
the village fairs.
My father spent most of his time and all his
money in Wall Street. He took no comfort in
being with me, realizing too keenly the change
in my position. He pleased when
learned to launch the fshermen's dory through
a high surf. to understand the weather signs
and the management Of crops; rejoiced that
my complexion stood wind and weather, and
sighed because disliking the noise of firearms
and taking the lives of birds, refused to go
shooting. He predicted that I should lose my
skill
Boxing was not allowed to forget. Prize
fights still aroused his enthusiasm. and when
one came off he read me every detail from his
sporting paper. If he returned from town in
a happy mood he always renewed my lessons.
calling me to the barn, where they took place.
Thankful to give him pleasure. tucked up my
long braids. rolled UP my sleeves, and drew
the gloves with feigned zest.
The barn was a pleasant place to loiter in,
smelling sweet of the hay that Mr.. Wellborn,
our landlord, stored there. But on the board
floor found a square chalked out-the ring.
in fighting parlance-and there lettering
for me! Sometimes. because Of the swallows
and pigeons circlng past the wide flung DOORS
the shunshine checking the dusty floor. the
cadence of waves on the distant shore. I would
grow dreamy, forget myself and so get fall!
Again. my father forgot that his adversary
was his daughter, and I. remembering. fell
again. I did not mind the bruises, but box
ing is an unwomanly exercise and this often
limited
Nonsense, Athena" he would cry indig-
nantly. mo woman is the worse for under
standing the art, the noble art, of self-defence!
Say you met a tramp. would you run away
screaming? Or become helpless through terror
if you he meant mischief? Not much"
chuckling. mot much, my dear! You'd simply
play for his head. smartly. with your left, hit
ting straight. Or better STILL If you could man
age it-nind what I'm saying, Athena-give him
two hard rights over the heart, driving him
back, then send straight left to the neck and
you'll have him guessing in no timer Sigh
ing, he would add. IF you'd only let yourself
go. not be so Internally anxious to spare your
old dad hard knocks, you'd daze me. have me
helpless straight off! Few men could get the
better of you. my girl. though you look so
dainty What you lack in weight you make up
for in skill. Your styles perfect. if I say it
who shouldn't! You're supple as Indian.
your grip is iron, your muscles steel. Tell you
what, my slender goddess. you'll do"
But moments of contentment-when he re-
joiced in my strength-were rare. The thought
of my nunlike existence harried him perpet-
ually since he wished to see me launched in the
gay world. My nineteenth birthday was ap-
preaching fast when bent upon making money
for me, he took the small sum he had in hand
nd emf IN n He All
time. When he returned he looked startlingly
i'll.
I'm all right" he said in answer to my
questions; for Gods sake. don't badger mew
But he could not eat, and later I heard him
pacing his room. up and down. up and down.
till he came back to me and said, his eyes
averted, his voice low and husky:
Athena, must raise money the ring.
Put 1t in my room I go BAGS to town early to-
morrow"
Nemesis" I cried. "Oh. papa?
He turned upon me fercely as if about to
speak harshly. then his expression changed to
one of feeble bewtlderment.
It's got to CO." he muttered got TO go!
Put it in my room"
After my mothers death he had given II me.
the only jewel remaining US. and to me the
emerald with its Nemesis was no trinket. but
a live thing Parting with it was bitter. I
opened the case and looked long at the GENT
was less brilliant than usual; then, in memory
of my mother. pressed my lips against the in
taglio. 1t was. 1 thought, my last farewell
Going softly to my fathers room I placed the
case still open. on the table by his bed.
At midnight a great cry rang through the
house:
.'Miilicent Millicent. Mllicent."
Swiftly as I answered it, could give no help
faf Lruov