The Washington herald., 1913-03-16
JOHN BRECKENRIDGE ELLIS

man sleepers. for I'm the little girl for
you, dear heart. and I'll do whatever
you say. If you want to show people
how tame / am, just hold up your
hand, and III crawl into my cage"
The laughter of Mrs. Gregory sound
ed wholesome and deep-throated-th
child was so deliciously ridiculous.
Come. then she cried, with a light
ness she had not felt for months,
come, crawl into your cage" And
she opened her arms.
With fash or her blithe body, Fran
was in her cage, and. for time. rested
there, while the fire in her dark eyes
burned tears to all sorts of rainbow
colors. Ii seemed to her that of all
the people in the world. Mrs Gregory
was the last to hold her in affection
ate embrace. She cried out with sob,
as If in answer to her dark misgivingS
oh. but | want to belong to some
body!"
You shall belong to me-" exclaimed
Mrs. Gregory. folding her closer
i ITO you?' Fran sobbed, overcome
by the wonder OF it ITO you, dear
heart" With a desperate effort she
crowded back intruding thoughts, and
grew calm. Looking over her shoulder
at Simon Jefferson-"No more short
dresses. Mr. Simon" she called. "you
know your heart mustn't be excited
Fran" gasped Mrs. Gregory in dis
may, hush"
But Simon Jefferson bcamed with
pleasure at the girls artless ways. He
knew what was bad for his heart, and
Fran wasn't. Her smile made him feel
himself monopolist in sunshine ST.
mon Jefferson might be fifty, but he
still had a nose for roses.
| Old Mrs Jefferson was present, ard
from her wheel-chair bright eyes read
much that dull ears missed How gay
Simon isy smiled the mother-hc was
always her spoiled boy.
Mrs. Gregory called through the
trumpet. Il believe Fran has given
brother a fresh interest in life"
i Simon nodded; he didn't care who
knew it. Since his sisters marriage to
the millionaire philanthropist. Simon
had found life appallingly dull; how
passing years without his heart COM
plaints Hamilton Gregory's perennial
absorption in the miseries OF folk be-
NCHu tlC uOilLoH, dliu idSh VI SYM
pathy with those who sat at his table,
set him apart as model; Simon hat
ed models.
Fran and added her commendation:
She pushes me when | want to be
pushed, and pulls me when | want to
be pulled"
| Fran clapped her hands like a child.
indeed. "Oll. what gay old world"
she cried. There are so many people
in it that like me-" She danced before
the old lady. then wheeled about with
such energy that her skirts threatened
to level to the breeze
Don't don't" cried Mrs. Gregory
precipitately Fran"
Bravo shouted Simon Jefferson.
Encore"
Fran widened her fingers to push
down the rebellious dress. IF l don't
put leads on me-" she said with con-
triton, I'll be floating away. When
! feel good. | always want to do some
thing wrong-it's awfully dangerous
for person to feel good, guess.
Mrs Gregory, you say | can belong to
you-when | think about that | want
to dance . guess you hardly know
what it means for Fran to belong to a
person. You're going to find out.
| Come on" she shouted to Mrs. JET
ferson. without using the trumpet
| always a subtle compliment to those
nearly stone deaf. Il mustn't wheel
myself about, so I'm going to wheel
YOU"
As she passed with her charge into
| the garden. her mind was busy with
| thoughts of Grace Noir Belonging to
Mrs. Gregory naturally suggested get
| ting rid of the secretary 1t would be
exceedingly difficult. But two months
ought to settle her" Fran mused.
In the meantime. Grace Noir and
| Gregory sat in the library, silently
| turning out an immense amount of
work, feeding the hungry and con-
soling the weak with stroke of pen
and click of typewriter. If converse
| ton sometimes trickled across the dry
expanse Of statistical benevolence, it
| was never on Graces part, for pas
time. Beneath her words was always
an underflowing current. tugging at the
listener to bear him away to her chosen
haven. As an expert player of check
ers knows his moves in advance, so her
conversations. however brief. were built
Up with unity of purpose which her
consciousness of purest motives saved
from artihciality.
About this case. number I43," she
said. looking up from her work as
copyist. ''the girl whose father wouldn't
acknowledge her. >"
Write to the matron to give her
good clothing and good schooling" He
spoke softly There prevailed an at
mosphere of subtle tenderness; on thu
island-the lbrary-blossomed love OF
mankind and devotion to lofty ideals.
These two mariners found themselves
ever surrounded by a sea of indiffer-
cnce: there was not a sail in sight.
1T is sad case" he murmured.
you think No. I43 a sad case " she
repeated, always. when possible. buiiu..
ing her next step out of the material
furnished by her companion. But sup
pose she is an impostor He says she's
not his daughter. this No. I43. Maybe
she isn't. Would you call her con-
duct sad"
Gregory took exquisite pleasure in
arguing with Grace, because her Sc
rene assumption of being in the right
gave to her beautiful face a touch OF
the angelic. Il should call it impossi-,
BILE"
Impossible? Do YOU think it i'm
possible that Fran's deceiving you!
How can you know that she is the