Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1913-10-17

She addressed him, Good evening,
Mr.. Gregory"
He halted. When he spoke, his tone
expressed not only a general disap-
prevail of all girls who wander away
from their homes in the night. but an
especial repugnance to one who could
laugh during religious services. do
you want to speak to me, child?"
yes" The word was almost a
whisper. The sound of his voice had
weakened her.
what do you want?" He stepped
up on the porch. The moon had van
ished behind the rising masses of
storm-clouds, not to ppear again, but
the light through the glass door re
vealed his poetic features. Flashes OF
lightning as yet faint but rapid in re-
c%urrence, showed his beauty as that
of a young man. Fran remained 81
lent, moved more than she could have
thought possible. He stared intently,
but under that preposterous hat she
was practically invisible, save as a
black shadow. He added again, with
growing impatience, what do you
want?"
His unfriendliness gave her the spur
she needed. 81 want a home," she
said decidedly.
Hamilton Gregory was seriously dis
turbed. However evil-disposed, the
waif should not be left to wander aim
lessly about the streets. OF the three
hotels in L%ittleburg, the cheapest was
not overly particular. He would take
her there. do you mean to tell me-"
he t~emporized, that you are abso-
lutely alone?"
Fran's lone was a little hard, not
because she felt bitter, but lest she
betray too great feeling, Absolutely
alone in the world"
He was sorry for her; at the same
time he was subject to the reaction
of his ~exhausting labors as song
leader. "Then," he said, with tired
resignation, eff you'll follow me, I'll
take you where you can spend the
night, and tomorrow, I'll try to find
you work"
Work." She laughed. ooh, thank
you'll" Her accent was that of repu-
diation. Work, indeedi
He drew back in surprise and dis
pleasure.
"You didn't understand me-" she
resumed. What l want is a home. 1
don't want to follow you anywhere.
This is where / want to stay"
you cannot stay here" he an
swered with a slight smile at the pre-.
ctI ~ rf11nTIc rnnrAcf tfh1st Pm nfIItnn N
pay for a room at the hotel
At this moment the door was opened
by the young woman who, some hours
earlier, had responded to Fran's
knocking. Footsteps upon the porch
had told of Gregory's return.
The lady who was not Mrs. Gregory
was so pleased to see the gentleman
who was Mr.. Gregory-they had not
met since the evening meal-that, at
first, she was unaware of the black
shadow; and Mr.. Gregory, in spite of
his perplexity, forgot the shadow also.
so cheered was he by the glimpse of
his secretary Is she stood in the
brightly lighted hall. Such moments
of delighted recognition are infinitesi-
NAL when a third person, however
shadowy, is present; yet had the world
been there, this exchange of glances
must have taken place.
Fran did not understand-her very
wisdom blinded her as with too great
light. She had seen so much of the
world that, on finding a tree bearing
apples, she at once classified it as an
apple tree. To Gregory, Grace Noir
was but a charming and conscientious
sympathizer In his life-work, the at
mosphere in which he breathed freest.
He had not breathed freely for half a
dozen hours-no wonder he was glad
to see her. To Grace Noir, Hamilton
Gregory was but a benefactor to man.
kind, a man of lofty ideals whom it
was a privilege to aid, and since she
knew that her very ayes gave him
strength, no wonder she was glad to
see him.
Gould Fran have read their thoughts,
she would not have found the slight
est consciousness of any shade of evil
in their sympathetic comradeship. As
she could read only their faces, she
disliked more than ever the tall, young,
and s~plendidly formed secretary.
"Ohi" said Grace with restraint,
discovering Fran.
"Yes," Fran said with her elfish
smile, back again.
Just without the portal Hamilton
Gregory paused 1rresolureIy. ne uia
not know what course to pursue, SO he
repeated y~acantly, 81 am willing to
pay"
Fran interrupted fiippantly: Il have
all the money / want" Then she
passed swiftly into the hall, rudely
brushing past the secretary.
Gregory could only follow. He spoke
to Grace in a low voice. telling all he
knew of the night wanderer. Her
attitude called for explanations, but
L. ~vA.1I 49, s~-u 49, --- -