Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1903-01-08
Through q Chid's
! M51NW Illness. MN71JM

By Lerek Vane.

G. HE had just returned from the
y crowded concert hall, where she
had enjoyed a veritable triumph.
Her face was flushed and smiling
and she still held in her hands the
great bouquet of roses-her ~favorite
fiower-which had been given her as
she left the platform. She was re
called to her surroundings by the
voice of her maid, Fanchon.
There is a telegram for madame
on the table," she said. Denise
picked it up; it was addressed to
Mrs. Felden," which was unusual.
She was known to the London world
and her friends as Madame Elena
She opened it sharply. 1t was brief
and to the point:
II think it is right to let you know
that the boy is seriously ill.-Mich-
ael."
Unconsciously she crushed the mes
sage in her hand, and her thoughts
flew to the Lincolnshire village where
it had been written. She saw again
the fiat fen-land, the long stretches
of empty wastes, which she had
grown to loathe, almost to fear: all
the grayness and barrenness which
we're SO antagonistic to her gay,
beauty-loving nature. Then the scent
OF the roses smote her sharply, she
saw the luxury of her w surround
ings, the signs of taste and money
everywhere, and turning to the maid
she cried:
Bring me an "A. B. c. and pack a
bag. I am going into the country"
Shall I attend, madame?"
mo, l don't know how long I shall
be away. 1 will write" Her lips
twitched as she thought of the fash
ionable French maid in the bare
manor-house with old Hannah for
company.
Il wonder if he is really very ill?"
she pondered as she sat in the train.
II think Michael would scarcely sent
for me unless he were. The meeting
will be as awkward and uncomfort-
able for him as for me. Poor little
Michael-what a name to give a child!
I wonder what he is like now? He
was not a pretty or interesting child.
remember he was always crying"
There was no one to meet her when
she arrived, but that she did not ex-
pect, though the village fly had been
sent to the station on the chance of
her coming.
After a drive of nearly an hour she
recognized a familiar gateway; she
remembered the old coat-of-arms cut
in the stonewerk, though she could
not see it now, with the motto. 81
live! / die!" Yes, that was all the
Fieldens had been doing for genera
lions. 1t was q decaying race, and
they had not had the energy, or per-
haps the power, to stop the ruin that
was creeping on them, and the man
who lived there had grown sour and
bitter with his baked life.
master is upstairs" old Hannah
said distantly, in reply to Denise's
greeting. HE hoped you would ex-
cuse him coming down, but the child
is very restless tonight, and can't
well be left. If you will please to sit
down and take something I will tell
him you are here" And she opened
the door of a room where a frugal
meal was laid.
Il don't want anything, thank
you,' Denise said hastily. II will go
up at once if / may" and before
Hannah could raise any objection she
was half way up the stairs.
She heard a murmur from the oak
bedroom, where the head Of the
house was always born and where
most Of them had died, and tapping
on the door she went in. No
one had heard her, and for an in
she stood as though arrested
on the threshold. What a great
room it was! And how solitary
those two figures looked in it!
Il am sorry to trouble you," the
man said, getting up as she moved.
II am afraid you have had a long,
journey; but I thought you
ought to know"
you did quite right" she said,
lhickly. What a pitiful, little shrunk-
IN form it was, looking almost lost
in the vast oak bedstead, of which it
a tradition that each successive
Fielden should carve a panel, so that
Y had always seemed to Denise a
weird resting-place, belonging tc the
lead rather than the living She had