Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1907-09-05

SuOuluer ana detained MIN.
I've seen the Duke" she whisper
i ed, f'and he wouldn't have me"
He" Trafford began, in a puz-
zled voice.
He thought it was a sacrifice on
my part she explained, looking up at
him with glowing eyes, land he
wouldn't let me make it. It's all over
And would it have been a-sacri-
fice?" he demanded, with shaggy
Ibrows drawn together.
met if could have pleased you"
| His face cleared as he bent low and
kissed her again.
Then l shall only keep my little
girl the longer" was all he said.
CHAPTER VII.
I'm going to do it, Laura" Paula
whispered, as they approached the
luncheon-table' 81 mean the portrait.
/ I've got his address, and I'm going
this afternoon"
There was no time to say more, for
Mrs. Trafford entered the room. fol-
lowed by George Trafford and little
Paul.
There had been several reasons for
their return to Paris in the early days
i of February. The protracted absence
OF Mr.. Tratford In Germany and Rus.
STA was the one they spoke of openly
The Dukes silent departure from
Monte Carlo. taking the spirit out of
their little band, was subject they
mentioned to one another only when
Paula was not there. The sudden ar
xiety of Mrs. Trafford about her
health and her haste to see a doctor
i in Paris was a matter that they dar-
ed not discuss. at all.
Whereas everybody going this after
noon?" Mrs. Trafford demanded 4
half hour later, with the briskness
which her courage enabled her to
maintain.
Where are you going, Aunt Traf.
ford?" Laura inquired warily.
/ ION, I've got a lot of things to do.
First, | have the committee of the
Bazaar de la Charlie; the Princesse de
Friedland counts on me absolutely
this year. Then l have to go to a
meeting at the American Art-Students
Home. Then l must drop in at the
Duchesse de Dodovilles COULTER. BY
the.way, could some back and take
you there, Laura. You'll want some
| tea
81 simply must go to the Bon Mar
che" Mrs. George Trafford declared.
Il have all sorts of things to buy for
Paul I'll get my tea at Rumpel-
meyers or Colombins on the way
back" -
'.Then couldn't you come, Paula?'
Mrs. Trafford continued. Il hate go
ing into crowded rooms alone-espec
tally in French houses; and l speak &C
badly"
Paula knew the moment had come
and nerved herself to reply in her
usual tone.
81 can't go. mother DEAR" she said
as calmly as she could. I've got tC
see. about sitting for portrait I'm
going to have painted"
1t seemed to Paula as if her com
monplace words fell with curious
solemnity on the stiffness of the room
She knew that, in spite of herself
she was coloring.
; George Trafford took his cigar from
his lips and looked around at her owe
, his shoulder.
; you seem to be lost in admiration
of yourself Paula he observed "Yol
had a portrait last year by Carolu
| Duran, and one by Chartran the yea
| before"
a don't like either of them,' sh,
} returned. her eyes searching tn
l depths Of her empty coffee cup.
"And yet they weren't considered t
). be what you'd call unfair to the orr
: ginal," he went on
| I'm sure l don't know where you'll
hang it," Mrs. Trafford complained
: looking round the splendid room. Il
t you put another item on the walls o
t this house we'll smother"
r ri was thinking Of making it pre-
: sert to George"
e "Oh, don't put the responsibility q
. slowing 1t away on me-" TRAITOR
cried. Laura and have alread
A more stuff than we can handle"
:. 81 don't know about that. George
(, dear" Laura argued. "It might b
i nice in years to come for Paul. We'y
got so little in the way of ancestra
+ things to leave him. And they sa
that in forty or fifty years from now
h that would be easily within Paul
!. lifetime-some Of the great portrait
[ palnLGrS Oh IHe present udy Will NAY
+ become what Romney and Gains
: borough are for us"
S Its a good while to look ahea
:. to-" Trafford laughed. "But l suppos
!, if ancestors hadn't had foresight d.:
r pendants wouldn't have privilege:
Who's your man, Paula? Give us a
American this time. won't you? Sa
= Sargent, or some of those fellows
t "He is an American" Paula re
g piled, "but he isn't Sargent. He's
0 new painter I believe he has n
}. markable talent. We spoke OF bill
Il one night at Monte Carlo. You TOT
a me about him, George. His name
Winship.'
y Mrs. Trafford gave little screai
and let her coffe-cup fall with
T. crash on the floor.
e Paula Trafford," she cried, eff 20
e. want to kill me, do it now; don't Ii
u it be by inches.
I "You do beat everything, Paula
Il her cousin observed, grimly for ge
ting things on the brain. I'll bt