The Washington times., 1912-06-14
THE TIMES DAILY SERIAL STORY
House of the Purple Windows
MARY KATHARINE MAULE
Copyright. The Frank A. Munsey Col

in a broken voice and kissed her. Then
he signed the woman to go on. As she
did so. Annabel drew near and laid her
hand on his shoulder and young Cliff
ford came and stood at the back of his
chair
1T is long story. Lord Baramore.
| resumed the woman, "and a painful
one; l must ask you to have patience
with me-"
drank from a pail that stood on a lit
tie table, with plates containing scraps
of food and a few dishes. When she re-
turned she dropped again to the low
stool upon which she had been sitting
when they, entered.
You know the beginning" she said
i'll toneless voice, her elbows on her
knees, her chin on her hands, her black
hair falling in disorder about a face lii
which there was not a vestige of color:
"As girl of eighteen l was deceived
and betrayed, thrown out upon the
streets to earn my living. You know
me, took me into her home, and gave
me chance for life and a means of
earning my bread. ! was only a kitchen
maid at first; but I worshiped her.
| studied her, and at last became her
personal attendant.
"You"-her fierce black eyes blazed
as she fastened them upon him-"You
never knew her. / did. You. never
guessed OF cared, OF 10"
much she loved YOU. how her proud
that you buried with your first
wife and lavished on her child. Night
after night | have heard my lady sob
and cry. Day after day have seen
her heart break because she could not
win YOU"
She paused. Lord Baramore, with his
face hidden on the child's shoulder,
moaned aloud.
THE day we met with the automobile
accident she went on, she would
have been killed had l not thrown my
own body over her and saved her from
striking the tree.
Il got these scars then. l will carry
them all the rest of my life.
1T was about ten days after that,
after you had gone away to Paris, that
| she called me into her room one eve
! ming.
Janet she said, I know you are
grateful for what have done for you. l
have given you chance for happiness
In your life; now will you help me 10
| try for happiness in my own?
of course 1 told her that l would. !
told her that would give my very life
and soul to make her happy. And so
| l would.
"'Wili you do anything I ask you to
do without question or protest? she
| asked me, and / told her that would.
That same night, about midnight,
! she came into my ROOM She was as
| white as sheet and shaking all over.
| She had some clothes over her arm,
and said to me:
| Get up Janet, and dress yourself
| quickly. Put on your best clothes and
| wear this gown and cloak, l want you
| to go on Journey
IL told her l wouldn't ask any ques-
tions, and I didn't. l dressed as quick
| ly as l could and went into her room.
| That DR.. Marlowe, the doctor we had
seen at the hospital, was there. He
stridng UP and down the room.
Il asked hirS where Lady Baramore
| was. and he said she was In the west
wing and wanted me to go to her
| there. That seemed rather queer to
me. for it was late at night, and the
west wing was seldom used But
| hurried in there, and found Lady Bara-
! more fixing the blue room and making
up the bed. l had never seen my lady
| use her little white hands before, ant
] sort of cried out with establishment
| but she told me sharply to 'hush.' ano
hurry and help her to fix the room.
Il never dared ask her questions
least of all now, but did as she order
the journey. Before we were quite
through with the room | heard steps
in the hall, and Dr. Marlowe came ir
carrying a bundled-up little figure II
his arms. | kind of cried out, because
I thought at first it was Miss Elenore
but when he laid her in the bed I saw
it was not her, but strange chile
about her age"
Lord Baramore sprang up.
"A strange child he cried out?
chiId She was dyping with diptheria
She did die that night. And
And was buried as my little d3ugh
ter,' moaned Lord Baramore, grief an'
horror making his voice almost maud
Yes, sir. In the meantime your owl
daughter, Miss Elenore, had been tax
en- to Lady Baramore's room and mad
ready for the journey, and Just b ,for,
dawn | left Baramore Grange In
hired vehicle, taking Miss Elenore will
me. The next morning we sailed TO
America"
And | wore little boys clothes oil
the ship, daddy" broke in the child
''and Janet wouldn't let me go on decl
at all. but kept me wrapped up IL
blankets and told everybody l wa
sick And l wasn't bit, daddy, onl!
homeslck for you"
But ! was good to you, darling
wasn't l? Janet was always good t
you, wasn't she?' broke in the womal
eagerly, tremulously' stretching ne
arms TO the child.
From her place on her fathers kne
the little one smiled at her sweetly.
"Oh. yes" she answered, throwin
a kiss to her from the tips Of her littl
fingers "Oh. yes, daddy, Janet wa
Hlways good to me. l love Janet"
Tears welled to the woman's eyes an
rolled down her checks.
what happened to her" she wen
on, almost fiercely, was not my fault
: II was fate, l suppose. l knew nothing
| of America. I did not know where t
90 or what to do when We landed
LADY Baramorc had given me plent
of money, but no Instructions what t
do when / got to New York. She onl
: said to take the child away and kee
her hidden in some quiet place In tn
; new country, where her father woul
never find her"
but you did find me didn't you
daddy?" again broke in the child. 90
always thought you would find me
. YOU or Annabel. I love Annabel."
A Continuation of This Story VIII
he FONnd In TOmOrrOw's
Issue of The Times,