The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1912-12-19

friend now the wife Of . successful
financier
Miss Fanella's hand trembled. hel
face was drawn and white.
"A nurse maid" she moaned al
last bitterly, "a common nurse maid!
She put 1t kindly, and it is kind OF
her to think of me in my restitution,
but that is what 1t means. Yet, isn't
it better than cold and loneliness and
starvation? I'm tired of being diff.
ferent from other people. I'll try be.
ing as common as the commonest for
a WHILE"
Suddenly the great bell pealed
through the resounding old rooms.
She lifted the little lamp in wonder
ment and threaded her way again
through the icy gloom. No trades
people called at the house, and GER
tainly not at the big front door! And
generations of superiority had taught
the neighbors the futility of calling
at the Fenway portals.
Nelson Travers stood in the porch,
the big white fakes heaped upon his
broad shoulders.
Good evening, Fanella," he said as
II he had parted with her but yester-
day. Tomorrow is your birthday,
believe. and Christmas, too. VIII you
come for ride with me?"
Miss Fanella gasped, as we'll she
might. This, after fifteen years of 81
lence! Had 1t taken him so long to
recover from the repulse of old
Madam Fenway?
"I-what will the neighbors Think"
she gasped
you are thirty-six tomorrow, are
you not, Fanella? Isn't that old
enough to act as you please regard
less OF the neighbors7"
II suppose it is, Nelson" she ad-
mitted with smile. But where?"
will you trust me this once, Fanel-
la? promise to bring you back
whenever you WISH"
Miss Fanella looked into the white
night. Was she dreaming, or could
this unlikely thing really have hap
pened in the deadening monotony OF
her life?
What difference did 1t make, any.
way. Henceforth she would be only
a nursemaid. She looked back into
Nelson Travers' honest eyes pleading
with her to trust him. About her the
stately old furniture upon which her
pride had fed so many years, pleaded
in vain.
"Yes," she said, '1'll come. do not
know how far ! shall 60, though"
The man stepped into the old hall
and held her coat. His lips closed
over his displeasure when he felt the
weight of it.
She did not remember the worn
gloves on the hall table, and only
thought about locking the door when
she saw Travers slip the key into his
deep pocket.
Wrapped in robes, she seemed un-
conscious of the storm, realizing only
the pleasant sensation of companion
ship and warmth.
She was not even surprised when
he drew up before low, ample house
and lifted her carefully to the door
stone.
"Pll be in in a minute" he told
her. Take off your wraps and get
Miss Fanella, her heart beating
high at her own audacity, opened the
broad door.
The wide, low rooms within opened
together, lighted by can
dies on the mantels, and by softly
shaded lamps.
How pleasant" said Miss Fanella
aloud, going to the open fire, and
thinking of her little stove in the but
er's pantry.
Il have dreamed of you sitting
lere," said Travers quietly, coming to
ler. and now am going to ask you
o eat supper with me-a Christmas
supper, you know"
II shall be most delighted an
'wered Miss Fanella with a smile.
The Fenway pride was mute for once.
t was quiet supper. Fanella poured
he tea, conscious that her compan-
on's eyes were following her, and she
enjoyed herself with a fierce, defiant
sort of enjoyment.
"Fanella," said the man, leading her
back to the fire, II will bless you for
ever for coming with me. l wanted
you to see my home, to understand
lust how simple and unpretentious it
s. know am only common farm
er,' but I've always loved you, Fanel-
a. l cannot endure it to see you live