Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1913-02-06

ooh. Miss Grace. II my wife weN
only-like you'll mean, about going Ia
church,"
81 consider It," she responded, "thS
most important thing in the world"
Her emphatic tone proved her SINGER,
ity. The church on Walnut street
stood, for her, as the ark; those who
remained outside, at the call of the
bell were in danger Of engulfment
After long silence. Grace looked
up from her typewriter. "Mr. Greg
Dry" she said pausingly, you are I'M
happy"
Nothing could have been sweeter to
him than her sympathy, except happi.
ness itself. "Yes," he admitted, with
great sigh, 81 am very unhappy. but
you understand me. and that Is a little
comfort. II you should marry Bob
Clinton-Grace, tell me you'll not think
OF 1t again"
And you are unhappy" said Grace.
steadfastly ruling Bob Clinton out OF
the discussion. ION account Of Fran"
since she came to town." He checked
himself. But I owe it to my friend
| to shelter her. She wants to stay and
and she'll have to, II she demands
IT,"
"You are unhappy" Grace quietly
pursued, because her character is al
ready formed because she Is girl
who laughs at sacred things. and mock
the only true objects OF life. You
know It is too late to change her, and
you know her influence is bad for-for
Everybody in this house."
But 1t can't be helped" he insisted
disconsolately. IF she wants to stay.
can't help it. But, Grace. you ara
right about her influence. Even my
wife finds new strength to resist what
she knows to be her duty, because the
girl likes her"
| do you owe more to your dead
friend" Grace asked, with passionate
aolemnity. than to the living God?"
He shrank back. "But can't send
her away" he persisted in nervous
haste. ct can't. But heaven bless
you. Grace, for your dear thought OF
me-"
"You will bless me with more rea-
son." said Grace softly, when Fran
decides to 60 away. She'll tire OF this
house, promise 1t. She'll go-Just
wait!-shell go, as unceremoMousiy
as she came. Leave 1t to me. Mr.. Greg
ory." In her earnestness she started
up, and then. as IL to conceal her
growing resolution, she walked swiftly
to the window as II to hold her mann.
script to the light. Gregory followed
her.
"If she would only go!" he groaned.
I"Grace! Do you think you could?-
Yes, / will leave everything to YOU
She'll co." Grace repeated fxedly.
The window at which they stood
overlooked the garden into which Fran
had wheeled old Mrs. Jefferson
Fran, speaking through the ear.
trumpet with as much caution as deaf.
ness would tolerate. said, Dear old
lady, look up at the library window.
If you please, for the muezzin has
climbed his mina"et to call to prayers.
Very little of this reached its desti-
|nation-m was in great danger
of complicating matters, but the old
lady caught library window, aud
held it securely. She looked up.
Hamilton Gregory and Grace Noir
were standing at the tower window.
to catch the last rays Of the sun. The
flag of truce between them was only
a typewriter sheet Of manuscript,
Grace held the paper obliquely toward
tn west; Hamilton leaned nearer
and, with his delicate white fingers.
pointed out a word. Grace nodded
her head in gentle acquiescence.
"Amen," muttered Fran. Nov let
everybody .ing!"
The choir leader and his secretary
vanished from sight.
Gust like the play in Hamlet" Fran
said half aloud. "And now that the In
side play Is over, guess It's time Tor
old Ham to be doing something"
Mrs. Jefferson gripped the arms OF
her wheelchair and resumed her tale.
AZ IL she had not been interrupted. 1t
was of no interest as a story. yet
possessed a sentimental value from the
fact that all the characters save the
raconteur were dead. and possibly all
Il but her forgotten Fran loved to hear
the old lady evoke the shades OF long
ago. shades who would never again as
sumo even the palest manifestation to
mortals, when this old lady had gons
to join them.
There was cousin Sarah Tom, !" who
had been present at the great ball IN
Lexington. EVEN Cousin Sarah Tom
was there" said Mrs. Jefferson. thus
for ever stamping this ghostly out
line with greatness. And there was
"Aunt Mandy lowering on the out
skirts Of the general theme" Aunt
Mandy was there, as full OF fun and
mischief as ever" The old lady's
stories bristled with such subsidiary
characters concerning whom It was
ufficient to say that they were there.
Sometimes so many we're there that
the historian forgot her original In
tention and wandered aimlessly
among irrelevant acquaintance.
Usually Fran brought her back, with
gentle hand, but today she OWNED
subterfuge; the tale was meant TO
hide Mrs. Jefferson's real feelings.
Fran ventured through the trumpet:
II wish there was a man-secretary
on this place, instead Of woman.
Mrs. Jefferson snatched away the
instrument with indignation. What
is that you say" she asked, glaring.
On bed with a woman? Who? What
woman?" Then she clapped the trum.
-. 81 how oar aa ~ deriving French