The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1907-12-25

of his conduct than that it was his
latest eccentric whim.
1T can't be that he hopes to keep
me away from jacques" she smiled to
herself. when he CURLY informed her
of his decision. 'for he knows that
Jacques and l correspond, although he
has forbidden us to meet 1t is just
fathers latest craze; he wants to rough
1t bit, and when the craze is over he
will return home to comfort and Neuil-
ly once more
But his curious fad had already last
ed three weeks, and SO far there was
no visible sign of his growing tired of
it.
Paul Desaix peered eagerly from be-
hind the shade at the second floor Win
dow of the house opposite, the blinds
of which were tightly shut. He con-
shadow Of mans figure fit family
across the blind, and then, with a NUT
tered He is still there, thank Heaven
he is still there" i'll d tone which was
half chuckle and half a groan. He
tottered back to the table and resumed
the writing Of his letter.
When Margaret entered the room a
few moments later dressed for going
out he was about to close the envelope
We'll. father is your letter ready?"
she asked.
1T will be, in second OF two, my
is very important letter, Marguerite,
l may say an extremely important let
ter. | trust you will be very careful
with it. my dear"
Il won't forget
He handed her the letter and, glanc-
ing at it, she exclaimed: why, father
you have changed your handwriting."
Have I. my dear? Is it really differ
ent? Surely not. | have not changed
it Intentionally. Marguerite--certain
ly not Intentionally. But the light in
the room is SO bad, and that probably
accounts for it,
of course the light is bad. father,
If you will persist in keeping the room
SO dark. Why don't you let up the
shades? And why don't you go out
for a walk in this lovely weather? We
have been here three long weeks, and
you haven't been outside the door
once"
mo, Marguerite, no." he answered
irritably as she moved to the window
with the obvious intention of letting
in the light. Il have already explained
to you that | am suffering with my
eyes and prefer dim light, and
and | can't go out because l haven't
the time. l am extremely busy, Mar
guerite, and the sooner l finish my
business the sooner we shall be able
to return to Neuilly. You will be SO
glad to return home, little girl?"
''Of course, father, but
His evident uneasiness seemed in
some way to have suddenly communi-
Gated itself to her. She paused, as
though she were trying to see some
thing which she was most reluctant
which she was even afraid-to see,
while he was too anxious to be re-
lieved of the necessity Of answering
her embarrassing questions to notice
these unmistakable singns of a motion
less distress.
Nov do go. darling. | want that
letter mailed. 1t is very important,
and must not be lost or forgotten"
Don't worry. father. I won't for
get. Goodbye, and don't wait for ME
if l am not back in time for lunch, for
it's just possible | may be late
She stopped and kissed him, but it
was not until she had gone that he
discovered the tear on his cheek which
told him that she had been crying.
oh. dear. dear. POOR grit Poor
Marguerite. She is unhappy here
Fire hundred thousand francs. It
viii make her independent of all
changes and misfortunes after / am
gone-the dream of my waking hours.
the one thing have toiled for, shaved
for
he paused in his muttering, and then