Mexico Missouri message., 1910-01-27

rearing a valuable lyric nightingale
that would not long be content to trill
and quaver unheard.
Immense and deserved success had
half reconciled the old lady to what
had happened, and after all Margaret
had not married an Italian tenor, a
Russian prince, or a Partisan COM
poser, the three shapes Of man which
seemed the most dreadfully immoral
to Mrs. Rushmore. She would find It
easier to put up with Logotheti than
with one of those, though it was bad
enough to think of her old friends
daughter marrying Greek instead of
a nice, clean Anglo-Saxon, like the
learned Mr.. Donne, the girls father,
or the good Mr. Rushmore, her la
lnented husband, who had been an up
right pillar of the church in New
York, and the president of a trust
company that could be trusted
After all, though she thought all
Greeks must be what she called de
| signing" the name of Konstantin Lo-
| gotheti was associated with every
thing that was most honorable in the
financial world, and this impressed
Mrs. Rushmore very much.
Logotheti was undoubtedly consid-
cred honest, and Mrs, Rushmore made
quite sure of it, as well as of the fact
that he had an immense fortune.
At Versailles. with its memories of
her earlier youth, the prima donna
wished to be Margaret Donne again,
and to forget for the time that she
was the Cordova, whose name was al
ways first on the opera posters in New
York, London and Vienna.
She travelled incognito. That is to
say, she had sent her first maid and
theatrical dresser Alphonsine to see
her relations in Nancy for a month,
and only brought the other with her;
she had, moreover, caused the state
room on the channel boat to be taken
in the name of Miss Dome, and she
brought no more luggage to Versailles
than could be piled on an ordinary
cart, whereas when she had last come
from New York her servants had
seen 81 pieces put on board the steam
er, and a hat-box had been missing
after all.
Mrs. Rushmore came out to meet
her on the steps in the hot sunshine,
portly and kind as ever, and she ap-
piled an embrace which was affection
ate, yet imposing.
MY dearest child" she cried. 81
was sure l had not quite lost you
yeti"
81 hope you will never think you
have" Margaret answered, almost
quite in her girlish voice of old.
She was very glad to come back. As
soon as they were alone in the cool
drawing room, Mrs. Rushmore asked
| profound concern, as though it were
a grave bodily ailment which might
turn out to be fatal.
| Don't take it so seriously" Marga-
ret answered with a little laugh; Tn
not married yeti"
The elderly face frightened.
do you mean TO say that-that
there is any hope?" she asked eagerly.
Margaret laughed now, but in a gen.
tie and affectionate sort of way.
Perhaps, just a little! But don't
ask me, please. I've come home to
forget everything for few weeks"
Thank heaven!" calculated Mrs.
Rushmore in a tone of deep relief.
Then if-if he should call this after
noon, or even to.morrow-may l tell
them to say that you are out?"
She was losing no time; and Marga-
ret laughed again, though she put her
head a little on one side with an ex-
preston of doubt.
81 can't refuse to see him." she said,
though really l would much rather
be alone with you for a day or two"
My darling child" cried Mrs. Rush
more, applying another embrace, you
shall! Leave it to mel"
Mrs. Rushmore's delight was touch
ing, for she could almost feel that
Margaret had come to see her quite
for her own sake, whereas she had
pictured the child" as she still called
the great artist, spending most of her
time in carrying on inaudible conver-
sations with Logotheti under the trees
in the lawn, or in the most remote
corners of the drawing room; for that
had been the accepted method OF
courtship in Mrs. Rushmore's young
days, and she was quite ignorant of
the changes that had taken place since
then.
Half an hour later. Margaret was
in her old room upstairs writing a let
ter, and Mrs. Rushmore had given
strict orders that until further notice
Miss Donne was mot at home" for
any one at all, no matter who might
call.
When the letter already covered ten
pages, Margaret laid down her per
and without the least pause or hesita
tion tore the sheets to tiny bits, ink
, ing her fingers in the process because
; the last one was not yet dry
What wicked woman l ami" she