Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1913-02-18

good works. don't ask you to keel
silent on my account-what am but
an instrument In the hands OF Provi
dence?---but for the sake of the homo
less thousands. have atoned for my
past but the world, always ready ia
cruelty the divine, would rejoice te
point the finger of scorn at me, as Il
I were still the fool of twenty years
ago"
But your secretary
"She Ia a vital factor In my work
Remove her. and the work ceases"
How Important" cried Fran, throw.
ing back her head. What will God
do when she dies?"
Perhaps have gone too far. Still
it would be impossible to replace her."
Fran made a step toward him--"My
mother was replaced"
| He started up. You shall not
speak OF that. She lived her life. and
I demand the right to live mine.
tell you. the past Is ended"
But am here" returned. II have
not ended Can't you look into my
face and see my mother living? She
! paid for her secret marriage, wander.
ing over the face Of the earth with
her baby, trying to find you. don't
deny that you've paid for all--yes,
even for your desertion and your liv-
ing hidden life in this town. Maybe
you've suffered enough. But that isn't
the question. Look at me. am here.
have come as truly out of your past
as out of the past of my darling, I'M
complaining-what did you call her?
friend And being here, ask,
hot vHySl 10 ,,,sxy
want is--just little love-"
{, The long loneliness OF her life found
expression in the eager voice. in the
half-stupefied, he imagined she was
holding out her arms 10 him In plead.
ing. BUT 1t was not this erect form,
slight and tense, that reached forth 40
II to clasp him to her heart; 1t was q
memory of his youth, memory that
in some odd manner blurred his pre-
ception of the living presence. From
the fragile body of Fran. something
leaped toward him, enveloping, over
towering.
1t was partly Fran, and partly some
body else-however he knew that
somebody, that dead woman who had
found recincarnation in the soul OF
this wanderer.
She thought his covered face tok-
en- of weakening. "You must have
loved my mother once. Is 1t all 90
dead and forgotten that there IL none
left for your child?''
But she was seeking to play upon
strings that had long since ceased to
vibrate. He could not bring back.
even in retrospect, the emotions In
spired by Josephine Derry. Those
strings had been tuned to other love-
harmonies. To remember Fran's
mother was to bring back not the rap
ture of first passion. but the garrish
days of establishment. He even felt
something like resentment because she
had remained faithful--her search and
amending love for him made 80 much
more of his desertion than ever he had
made.
He could not tell Fran that he had
never loved her mother. The dead
must not be reproached: the living
could not be denied-so he was silent.
His silence inspired Fran with hope.
II am 80 lonely. SO lonely" she mur.
INJURED plaintively, $50 very lonely!
There seems reason for everybody
but mel can't be explained. That's
why am disliked. II there could be
one heart for me to claim-whose
heart should 1t be? Does no sort OF
feeling tell you whose heart it should
be?''
"Of course you are lonely, child, but
that is your fault. You are in this
house on footing Of equality, and all
seem to like you, except Miss Grace
and must say, her disapproval dis
turbs you very little. But you won't
adopt our ways. You get yourself
virtually expelled from school-do you
blame me for that? You won't 60 to
church-can you expect church people
to like you? You make everybody
talk by your indiscreet behavior-then
wonder that the town shuns your so
ciety, and complain because you feel
l0nesOme!"
Fran's eyes filled with tears. "Ifayou
believe in me-if you try to like me-
that's all l ask The whole town can
talk, il have you. l don't care for
the world and it's street corners-there
are no street corners in my world -
"But, child"
"You never call me Fran If you can
help it." she interposed passionately.
Even the dogs have names. Call me
by mine; it's Fran. Say it, say It.
Call mech, father, father. want
your love-"
"Hush!" he gasped, ashen pale.
"You will be overheard
She extended her arms wildly:
what do you know about God, except
that he's father. That's all-Father
and you worship him as his son. Yet
you want me to care for your religion.
Then why don't you show me the way
to God? Can you love him and deny
your own child? Am l to pray to him
as my father in heaven, but not dare
acknowledge my father on earth? No!
/ don't know how others feel, but I'll
have to reach heavenly things through
human things. And tell you that you
are standing between me and God, just
as the llves of 50 many Christians hide
God from the world"
Hush, hush!" cried Gregory.
"Child! this is sacrilege!"
mo. it is not. tell you, can't see
God, because you're in the way. You
nray sOur father who art In heaven,