Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1911-12-22
CHAPTER XIII.
Mrs. Missioner's Visitor.

Mrs. M~issioner's Visitor.
Mrs. Missioner, after the ball, took
in the fag-end of a bridge party, and
stayed SO late that when she returned
to her home the east was striped with
dawn, and the maid who had waited
up for her was sleeping soundly in a
chair. The widow was not yet dis
posed for slumber. 1t had been an
exciting night. Her fancy had been
stimulated sc greatly by her brief
talk with the Swami in the ballroom
chat she was unable to turf it from
the mysterious Oriental history of
the Maharanee diamond. She knew
no more of the jewels past than she
had related to the sage. for her hus-
band had not acquainted her with all
the details connected with his acquisi-
ton of 1t. Something in the Swami's
m caused her to regard the stone
with more or less aversion. She be-
gan to doubt the purity Of its record
Fond though she was of gems, even
to the point OF being a jewel worship
er, she was American to her finger
tips, and would shrink in terror from
any bauble hat came to her stained
with the tiniest drop of human blood.
She had loved her husband in a
way; at any rate, she had always re-
spected and admired him. 1t seemed
impossible he would be a party to
wrongdoing. Yet she could not shake
off a sensation of dread whenever she
had nestled in the SHOWS of her throat,
and rivaled the brightness Of her eyes.
Could 1t be she had worn a gem whose
fire was more suited to the glow of an
inferno than to the Eden of a good
woman's loneliness?
Drawing about her shoulders a soft,
warm shawl, she took a seat at a win
dow in her boudoir and sat gazing into
a sky pink and gray with d%aybreak.
trying to solve her real feelings In
regard to the recovery Of the Mahara-
nee diamond. She was in the midst
Of her meditation when she heard the
faint ringing Of bell at tive other end
Of her big house. In a little while.
a footman raped on the door Of her
boudoir. 1t awakened her maid, and
the girl, her eyes swollen with sleep.
approached the widow with a card
bearing no name. but inscribed with
the message:
1T is important hat be permitted
to see you at once"
At such an hour? Mrs. Missioner
was astonished by the request. Who
could her early visitor be? Surely no
one In her own circle Of acquaintances
would venture upon such a liberty. II
1t were a question Of life or death,
there was still the telephone. Secre-
cy was indicated by the attempt Of
the person to see her face to face.
Haste breathed in every word Of the
scholarly scrawl. Mrs. Missioner was
not ultraconventional, but the request
for an interview at that time of day
an hour that almost might be called
a time of night-was beyond the scope
Of even her liberal views. However,
curiosity conquered. as it has been do
ing in the cases of women, Jewels. and
apples since the world began, and she
informed her maid she would see the
visitor in the library.
She controlled her eagerness for
understanding of the request, never
theless, so well that when in a leisure
ly way she reached the big room on
the main floor, the visitor was already
within It. He stood at a window look
ing into a street and shielding him
self behind a curtain from chance
chances. AS his head was bare, 1t was
not until the second glance that she
recognized the Swami. She was not
only astonished, but startled by the
recognition. What could this mysteri-
Gus student Of the occult want with
Der? What could possibly be the OBJ
ject Of his visit to her home at such
on hour? He was an old acQuaint-
ance In q sense, but one Mrs. Mis-