The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1912-09-05

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ed on him as he sat opposite her,
the Redeemed light of the candles fall
ing on his beloved, familiar face.
After dinner they went into the sit
ting-room, the sanctum with the ebon-
lied cherry furniture where the fami-
ly always retired when important mat
tiers were afoot. Here, side by side,
they sat before the fireplace with the
portrait of the late Cornelius Ryan
looking benignly down on them. They
did not talk much. The subject Of
the young mans marriage had been
thoroughly gone over in the after
noon. Later on, his mother would ex-
tract from him further particulars,
till she would be as conversant with
that miserable chapter of his life as
If she had lived 1t herself.
Tonight they were both in the quiz
escent state that follows turmoil and
strife. They sat close together, star
ing into space, now and then dropping
one of the short disconnected SEN
fences that indicate a fused, under
standing intimacy. The young mans
body was limp in his chair. his mind
lulled in the restorative lethargy, the
suspension of activities, that follows
a struggle. His thoughts shrank
shudderingly from the past, and did
not seek to penetrate the future. He
rested In a torpor of relief through
which a dreamy sense of happiness
came dimly, as If in the faintest, most
delicate whispers.
His mothers musings were definite
and practical. She could now make
that settlement, share and share alike.
on both her children that sch had long
desired-Corneila's would be a dowry
on her wedding day and Dominick's
well, Dominick had had hard times
enough. She would go down to-mor.
row morning and see her lawyer
about it.
At the same hour, in the house Of
the other rich man, the Bonanza
King, having driven the servants from
the room with violent words that did
not Indicate bad humor so much as
high spirits, told his daughter the
story. He told it shortly, hardly
more than the main facts. and when It
was concluded, forbore to make COM
ments or, in fact, to look at her. II
was a great deliverance, but he was
not quite sure that his darling would
experience the frank, unadulterated
Joy that had possessed both himself
and Mrs. Ryan without restraining
qualms. He did not know what to
say to Rose. There were mysterious
complexities in her character that
made him decide to conf1ne his state
ment to a recital Of facts, eliminating
those candid expressions Of feeling
which he could permit himself when
talking to Mrs. Ryan or Berry.
AS soon as he had told 1t all he
rose from his chair as II ending the
interview. His daughter rose, too,
pale and silent, and he put his arm
round her shoulders and pressed her
against his chest in a goodnight hug.
She kissed him and went up stairs to
her own rooms, and he returned to his
armchair at the end of the dining
table. Here, as was his wont, he sat
smoking and bordering, turning oyr
in his head the various aspects Of the
curious story and. its unexpected out.
come Once, as the memory Of Berry
weeping into his handkerchief recur-
red to him, he stirred uneasily and
muttered to himself:
"Why didn't the damned fool stick
out for the whole fifty thousand? I'd
have given it to her as soon as not"
Meantime the storm center, the TO-
Gus round which the hopes and an:
gers and fears of this little group
had circled, was speeding eastward
in the darkness of the early night.
Berry sat in the corner OF her sec
ton with her luggage piled high on
the seat before her, a pillow behind
her head. In the brightly clear light,
intensified by reflections from glazed
woodwork and the surfaces Of mir.
rors, she looked less haggard, calmer
and steadier, than she had looked for
many weeks. Relief was at her heart.
Now that she had turned her back on
1t she realized how she had hated 1t
all-the fat, the isolation, the unsuc.
cessful struggle, Dominick and his
superior ways
The excitement Of change, the de-
sire for the new, the unfamiliar, the
untried, which had taken her Tar
afield once before, sang in her blood
and whispered its siren song In her
ear. She had missed a fortune, but
still she had something. She was not
plunging penniless into the great
outside world, and she pressed her
hand agaianst her chest where the
thirty-five thousand dollars was sewed
into the lining of her bodice. Thirty.
five thousand dollars! 1t was q good
deal if it wasn't three hundred thou
sand.
AS the train Numbered on through
the darkness she saw before her the
lights Of great cities, and heard the
call of liberty, the call of the nomad
! and the social vagabond, the call OF
the noisy thoroughfare, of the bright
places, of the tumult and the crowd.
The rowing passion Of the wanderer,
to whom the spell of home Is faint as
a whisper in the night, passed into
her veins like the fnvigorating heat
! of wine. She exulted in the sense OF
her freedom, in the magic Of adven-
ture, in the wild independence OF the
unknown.