The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1912-08-16

times, Stanton? I'm sure he is the
best man We have had" fretted his
manager.
Stanton was recalling that interview
as he went up the stairs of the quiet
apartment house indicated. After all,
1t was true that Floyd might have
volunteered his address, himself, If
he had wished 1t known. Perhaps he
did not want to see his driver unoffi-
cially. A sense Of unwelcomeness OPP
pressed Stanton, but he kept on his
way. He had never swerved from a
course because of the opinions Of
others; he did not think of turning
back now.
Some one was singing, as he reached
the fourth floor; singing in a smooth,
honey-rich, honey-golden contralto.
Warned Of his approach by the bell
pushed below, the door Of the apart
ment was opened, so that the melody
came flooding his hearing with it's
haunting familiarity. A little old
Irishwoman in black silk was peering
up at the tall visitor on the threshold
"Mr. Floyd?" he inquired. my
name Is Stanton"
The old servant drew back, smiling
invitation, and pushed aside a cur
tain. And Stanton saw Jessica Floyd
rise from her seat at the piano, TAX.
Ing step to meet him.
She was so like Floyd that he could
have cried out in wonder, yet was
most purely and softly feminine. She
seemed taller, in her clingirg pale
blue gown, and even more slender, but
Floyd's silver-gray eyes looked out
from her long lashes, Floyd's bronze
curls clustered around her wide
brows, under the braids wound about
her head, and her smile was q more
timid reflection Of the incarnate sun
shine Of his.
81 am sorry Jes is not at home" she
said, holding out her hand with nat
ural grace Of hospitality that rose
above her nervous shyness. 81 am
Jessica Floyd, Mr.. Stanton. his sis
ter"
She was afraid Of him. The too OBJ
EAOoo AaOt I'll uCCp lutO
as he felt her fingers flutter in his
clasp. So this was the reputation he
had earned for himself?
Perhaps / should not have come"
he apologized quite humbly. q
Floyd gave me no warrant for It, But
he was very good to me, when I was
sick in Lowell, and wanted to thank
him"
She looked at him fully then, and
again he could have cried out at the
wonder Of so meeting Floyd's straight
candor of regard.
why should you not come? Jes
has not so many friends that they are
not welcome In his home. Only, If he
had known Of your coming, he would
have been here"
She moved to a chair, inviting him
by gesture to do likewise, and took
up a half-embroidered silk scarf.
"He was called out Of town." she
added, after waiting for her silent
guest to speak "He will be sorry to
have missed you. From Mr.. Green he
learned that you had quite recovered,
after he left you."
And he? hurt his arm"
She glanced up astonished.
You hurt his ARM"
II was driving the car" Stanton
assumed grim responsibility.
This time she laughed, two adorable
dimples starting into view in her
cheeks Of glowing rose-and-amber
velvet; not the complexion of blonde
beauty, nor Of a brunette, but some
happy intermediate tint that presup-
posed fawless health and much sun
light. Stanton had never observed
any dimples about his mechanician.
II am certain Jes never thought Of
that standpoint He said a turn and
tire were to blame. But his arm
is almost WELL"
She spoke so lightly. with SO much
OF Floyd's own nonchalant acceptl
ance Of Incidental mishaps. that Stan
ton was surprised into indiscretion.
you do not worry about himY" he
questioned. you are not nervous
about his racing, and racing with me-"
Her lashes fell, her face grew seri-