The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1913-01-29
The
Stolen
Singer
BY Martha BelIinger
CHAPTER XIV.
Susan stoddard's Prayer.

Inere was wide porch, sp0tlessly
scrubbed, along the front of the
house, and two hydrangeas blooming
gorgeously in tubs, one on either side
of the walk. The house looked new
and modern, shiny with paint and fur
nished with all the conveniences Of
fered by the relentless progress of OUT
day.
Little Simon had informed Agatha
during their short drive, that Deacon
Stoddard had achieved this resi-.
dence" shortly before his death; and
his tone implied that it was the pride
of the town, it's real treasure. Even
to Agatha's absorbed and preoccupied
mind it presented striking contrast
to the old red house, which had re.
ceived her so graciously into its spa
cious comfort. She marveled that
anything so fresh and modish as the
house before her could have come into
being in the old town. II was next
10 a certainty that there was a model
laundry with set tubs beyond the
kitchen, and equally sure that no old
horsehair lounge subtly invited the
wearied traveller to rest.
A cool draft came through the
screen door. Within, it was cleaner
than anything Agatha had ever seen.
The stair-rail glistened, the polished
floors shone. A neat bouquet of sweet
peas stood exactly in the center of a
snow-white dolly, which was exactly
in the middle of a shiny, round table.
The very door-mat was brand new
Agatha would never have thought of
wiping her shoes on it.
Agatha's ring was answered by a
half-grown girl, who looked scared
when she saw stranger at the door.
Agatha walked into the parlor, in
spite of the girls hesitation in inviting
her, and directed her to say to Mrs.
Stoddard that Miss Redmond, from the
old red house, wished particularly to
see her. The girls face assumed an
expression of intelligent and ecstatic
curiosity.
oh" she breathed. Then, shes
putting up plums, but she can come
out in a few minutes" She could not
go without lingering to look at Agatha,
her wide-eyed gaze taking note of
her hair, her dress, her hands, her
face. AS Agatha became conscious of
the ingenious inspection to which she
was subjected, she smiled at the girl
-one of her old, radiant, friendly
smiles
Run now. and tell Mrs. Stoddard,
there's a good child! And sometime
you must come to see me at the red
house; will your"
The girls face lighted up as if the
sun had come through a cloud. She
smiled at Agatha in return, with
yes under her breath. Thus are
slaves made.
Left alone in the COOL dim parlor,
SO orderly and spotless, Agatha had a
presentiment of the prejudice of class
and of religion against which she was
about to throw herself Susan Stod-
dard's fanaticism was not merely that
of an individually; it represented the
storedup strength of hardy, con-
science-driven generations. The Stod-
dards might build themselves houses
with model laundries, but they did not
thereby transfer their real treasure
from the incorruptible kingdom. If
they were not ruled by aesthetic
ideals, neither were they governed by
thoughts of worldly display. This
fragrant, clean room bespoke charac-
ter and family history. Agatha found
oh
white wax cross, entwined with wax
flowers, standing under a glass on
the comfortable. 1t was a strange
piece of handicraft. It's Wilderness
was suggestive of death, not life, and
the curving leaves and petals, through
which the vital sap once flowed, were
beautiful no longer, now that their
day of tender freshness was SO map
propriately prolonged. AS Agatha, with
mind aloof, wondered vaguely at the
laborious patience exhibited in the
work, her eye caught sight of an in
scription nodded in the wax pedestal:
Brother" Her mind was sharply
brought back from the impersonal re-
gion of speculation. What she saw
was not merely sentimental, mis-
guided attempt at art; IL was Susan
Stoddard's memorial of her brother,
Hercules Thayer-the man who had
SO Unexpectedly influenced Agatha's
own life. To Susan Stoddard this wax
cross was the symbol OF the compan-
ionship of childhood, and of all the
sweet and bitter involved in the mex
plicable bond of blood relationship.
Agatha felt more kindly toward her
because of this mute, fantastic me-
mortal She looked up almost with her
Characteristic friendly smile as she
heard slow. steady steps coming down
the hall.
The eyes that returned Agatha's
look were not smiling. though they did
not look unkind. They gazed, with
out embarrassment. as without pride.
into Agatha's face. as II they would
Droba nj once To the covered springs