Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1912-02-03

Never had she seen more excellent
taste. Not too much; everything per-
fectly placed, one object nicely bal
anced against another. Here was
rare bit of Capo di Monte, there
piece of Sevres or Canton. Some
houses, with their treasures, look like
but this one did not. The
owner had not gone mad over one
subject; here was a sane and prudent
collector. The great yellow Chinese
carpet represented fortune; she
knew enough about carpets to realize
this fact .Ivories, jades, lapis-lazuli,
the precious woods, priceless French
and Japanese tapestries, some fine
paintings and bronzes; the rooms
we're full of unspoken romance and
adventure; echoed with war and
tragedy, too. And Fortune might have
married a man like this one. A posi-
bility occurred to her, and the ghost
of a smile moderated the interest in
her face. They might be upon the
desert for weeks. Who knew what
might not happen to two sucn
romantic simpletons?
The butler and the first man (who
was also the cook) were impeccable
types of servants; SO thought Rey'
nolds. They moved silently and anticl.
pated each want. Reynolds determined
that very afternoon to drop line 10
Jones and compliment him upon nis
good taste in the selection OF MS
friends. A subsequent press OF o1ilce
work, however, drove the determlna-
ton out Of his mind.
The instant his car carried him out
of sight, strange scene was enacted.
The butler and the first man seized
the major by the arms, and the tnree
executed a pas-seul. Mrs. Chedsoye
eyed these manifestations OF Joy
stonily.
"Now then, what's been done?"
asked the major, pulling down MS
cuffs and shaking the wrinkles from
his sleeves.
Half done!" cried the butler.
"Fihe! What do you do with the
refuse?" ..v
Cart it away in an automobile
every night, after the gun starts down
the other end of the street"
"Gun?" The major did not quite un-
derstand.
Gun or bull; that's the argot Tor
policeman" So,
"Thieves' argot," said Mrs. Ched'
soye CONTEMPORARY.
The butler laughed. He knew Go
where's that wall-safe?' the major
wanted to know.
Behind that sketch by Detaille.
And the butler, strange to say, pro-
nounced it Det-i.
"Can you open it,"
"Tried, but failed. Wallace Is the
man for that" :,
He'll be along in an hour or So.
where's Ryanne?"
Don't know; don't care me
major sketched the pred1cament OIL
their fellow conspirator.
The butler whistled, but callously.
One more or less didn't matter IN sucn
an enterprise.
When Wallace arrived he applled
his and acquired science to the wall
safe, and finally swung outward tne
little steel door. The major pushed
him aside and thrust a hand into the
metaled cavity, drawing out an
exquisite casket of rosewood ana
mother-of-pearl. He opened the 10
and dipped hand within. Emeralds'
deep and light and shaded, cut and un
ont and engraved, flawed and almost
perfect. He raised handful and let
them tinkle back into the casket. one
hundred in all, beauties, every one Oh
them and many famous.
And while he toyed with tnem'
pleased as a child would have Deen
over a handful of marbles, Mrs. Ched-
soye spread out the ancient Yhlordes
in the library. She stood upon the
central pattern, musing. Her mood was
not one which she had called into be-
ing. not often did she become
retrospective; the past to her was al
ways like a page in book, once
finished. turned down. Her elbow IN
one palm, her chin in the other she
stared without seeing. 1t was thls
house, this home, 1t was each sign
of riches without luxury or ostenta-
ton, where money expressed Itself py
taste and simplicity; home sucn as
she had always wanted. And why, WIN
all her beauty and intellect, why had
she not come into possession? she
knew. Love that gives had never been
hers; hers had been the love that re-
ceives. self-love. She had bartered her
body once for riches and mad Deen
fooled, and she never could DO 1t
q gain ** And the child was
OVERLOOKING with the love that gives:
She couldn't understand. The child
was the essence of it; and she, her
mother. had always laughed at her.
The furry of snow outside in the
court she saw not. Her fancy re-
formed the pretty garden at Mentone,
inciosed by pink-washed walls. Many (,
from her window she had
watched Fortune among the flowers,
going from one to the other, like bee
or butterfly. She had watched her
grow. too. with that same detachment
a machinist feels as he puts together
the invention of another man. Would
she ever see her again? Her shoulders
moved ever so little Probably not. She
had blundered wilfully. She should
have waited, thrown the two together,
And she had permitted
this adventure to obsess her! She
might have stood within this house by !
right Of law, motherhood, marriage
py.nna was in love with Fortune. and |