Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1906-04-10
By BOOTH TARKINCTO
Author Of "The Gentleman From Indiana" and Mons


Betty's cheeks. she trembled no more,
and a salutation as Icy as her fathers
was returned to him. He bent his heavy
brows upon her and shot black glance
her way. being. Of course, Immediately
enraged by her reflection Of his own
manner but he did not speak to her.
Nor did he once address her during
the evening meal, preferring to honor
Mrs. Tanberry with his conversation,
to that diplomatic lady's secret anger,
,ut outward amusement. She cheerful
| " neglected to answer him ut times,
having not the slightest awe of him,
and turned to the girl instead; indeed,
she was only prevented from rating
him soundly at his own table by the
fear that she might make the situation
more difficult for her young charge. AS
soon as 1t was possible she made her
escape with Miss Betty, and they drove
away in the twilight to pay visits of
duty, leaving Mr.. Carewe frowning at
his coffee OH the veranda.
When they came home three hours
later Miss Betty noticed that a fringe
of illumination bordered each Of the
heavily curtained windows In the Gu
pola, and she uttered an exclamation,
for she had never known that room to
be lighted.
"Look!" she cried, touching Mrs.
Tanberry's arm, as the horses trotted
through the gates under a drizzle Of
rain. II thought the room In the cupOla
was empty. It's always locked, and
| when l came from st. Mary's he told
10. that old furniture was stored
| there"
Mrs. Tanberry was grateful for the
darkness. He may have gone there to
read," she answered in queer voice.
Let us go quietly to bed, child. so as
| not to disturb him."
Betty had as little desire to disturb
her father as she had to see him; there
fore she obeyed her friends injunction
and went to her room on tiptoe. The
house was very silent as she lit the
candles on her bureau. Outside the
gentle drizzle and the soothing tinkle
from the caves were the only sounds.
Within there was but the faint rustic
of garments from Mrs. Tanberry's
room. Presently the latter ceased to be
heard, and wooden moan Of protest
from the four poster upon which the
good lady reposed announced that she
had drawn the curtains and wOoed the
rulers of Nod.
Although it was one Of those nights
Of which they say, 1T Is good night
to Sleep" Miss Betty was not drowsy.
She had half unfastened one small san
dal, but she tied the ribbons again and
seated herself by the open window.
Peering out into the dismal night, she
found her own future as black, and 1t
seemed no wonder that the sisters
loved the convent life; that the pale
nuns forsook the world wherein there
| was SO much useless unkindness, where
women were petty and jealous, like
that cowardly Fanchon, and men who
looked great were tricksters, like Fan
chon's betrothed. Miss Betty clinched
her delicate fingers. She would not re-
member that white, startled face
| again.
Another face helped her to shut out
| the recollection-that Of the man who
had come TO mass to meet her yester-
day morning and with whom she had
taken a long walk afterward. He had
shown her quaint old English garden
er who lived on the bank Of the river,
had bought her bouquet, and she had
helped him to select another to send to
q sick friend. How beautiful the tiow-
ers were and how happy he had made
the morning for her with his gayety,
his lightness and his odd wisdom! Was
it only yesterday? Her fathers COM
ing had made yesterday fortnight
old.
But the continuously pattering rain
and the soft drip, drop from the roof,
though as mournful as she chose to
find them, began after awhile to weave
their somnolent spells, and she slowly
drifted from reverles Of unhappy sorts
| into half dreams, In which she was
still aware she was awake, yet slum-
ber, heavy eyed, stirring from the cur
tains beside her with the small night
breeze, breathed strange distortions
upon familiar things, and drowsy i'm
possibilities moved upon the surface OF
her thoughts. Her chin, resting upon
her hand, sank gently until her head
almost lay upon her relaxed arms.
THAT is mine, Crailey Gray"
She sprang to her feet, immeasurably
startled, one hand clutching the back
Of her chair, the other tremulously
pressed to her cheek, convinced that
her father had stopped over her and
shouted the sentence in her ear. For
1t was his voice, and the house rang
with the words. All the rooms, halls,
and even the walls, still seemed mur-
murous with the sudden sound, like the
| tinkling Of a bell after 1t has been
struck. And yet-everything was quiet.
She pressed her fingers to her fore
head, trying to untangle the maze OF
dreams which had evolved this shock
| for her, the sudden clamor In her IA
theirs voice Of q name she hated and
hoped never to hear again, q name she
was trying to forget, but as she was
unable to trace anything which had