Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1913-02-20
Copyright 1911 by Bobbs-Merdn Company
BY
Harold MacGrsih

pray tell her expression was NIP
pant, but certain inquietude pene
trated her heart and accelerated its
beating What had the love-lorn fool
said to the child?
HE said that he was not a good
man. and that you tolerated him be-
cause he ran errands for you. What
kind Of errands?"
Mrs. Chedsoye did not know wheth-
er to laugh or take the child by the
shoulders and shake her soundly. HE
was laughing when he said that. Err
rands? One would scarcely call it
that"
why did you renew the acquaint-
ance with Mr.. Jones, when you knew
that you never intended paying back
that loan?"
Here was a question, Mrs. Chedsoye
realized, from the look of the child,
that would not bear evasion.
What makes you think never in
tended to repay him."
Fortune laughed. 1t did not sound
grateful in the mothers ears.
Mother, this is a crisis; it can not
be met by counter-questions nor by
flippancy. You know that you did
not intend to pay him. What l de-
mand to know is, why you spoke to
him again, so affably, why you seemed
so eager to enter into his good graces
once more. Answer that"
Her mother pondered. For once she
was really at loss. The unexpected
ness Of this phase caught her off her
balance. She saw one thing wildly,
regretfully: she had missed a valuable
point in the game by not adjusting
her play to the growth of the child,
who had, with the phenomenal sud
denness which still battles the psy-
biologists, stepped out of girlhood
into womanhood, all in day. What
a fool she had been not to have left
the child at Mentone!
II am waiting" said Fortune There
are more questions; but / want this
enc answered first"
This is pure insolencei"
"Insolence of kind, yes" .....
"And l refuse to answer. I have
some authority still"
mot so much, mother, as you had
yesterday. You refuse to explain?"
Absolutely"
Then l shall judge you without
mercy" Fortune rose, her eyes blaz-
ing passiontely. She caught her moth
er by the wrist, and she was the
stronger of the two. "Can't you I'M
derstand? / am no longer a child,
am woman. do not ask, demand!"
She drew the older woman toward her.
eye to eye. "You palter, you always
palter; palter and evade. You do not
know what frankness and truth are.
Is the continual evasion calculated to
still my distrust? Yes, distrust you,
you, my mother. You have made the
mistake of leaving me alone too much.
l have always distrusted you, but
never knew why"
Mrs. Chedsoye tugged, but ineffectu-
any. "Let go!"
mot till have done. Out of the
patchwork, squares have been formed.
What of the men who used to come
to the villa and play cards with Uncle
George, the men who went away and
never came back? What of your long
disappearances of which knew moth
ing except that one day you vanished
and upon another you came back? Did
you think that I was fool, that /
had no time to wonder over these
things? You have never tried to
make friend of me; you have al
ways done your best to antagonize me.
Did you hate my father so much that,
when his death put him out Of range,
you had to concentrate 1t upon me?
My father!" Fortune roughly flung
aside the arm. "Who knows about
him, who he was, what he was, what
he looked like? AS a child, used to
ask you, but never would you speak.
All know about him nurse told me.
This much has always burned my
mind: you married him for wealth
that he did not have. What do you
mean by this simple young man across
the CORRIDOR" ....
Mrs. Chedsoye was pale, and the ar
tistic touch of rouge upon her cheeks
did not disguise the pallor. The true
evidence lay in the Wilderness of her
nose. Never in her varied life had
she felt more helpless, more impotent.
To be wild with rage, and yet to be
.powerless! That alertness of mind,
that mental buoyancy, which had al
ways given her the power to return
a volley in, kind, had deserted her.
Moreover, she was distinctly alarmed.
This little fool, with turn Of her
hand, might send lettering into ruins
the skillful planning of months.
Are you in love with him?" aiming
to gain time to regather her scattered
thoughts.
"Love?" bitterly. 81 am in fine
mood to love any one. My question,
my question" vehemently; "my ques-
toni" H.
Il refuse absolutely to answer you'll"
Anger was first to reorganize its
forces; and Mrs. Chedsoye felt the
heat of 1t run through her veins. But,
oddly enough, it was anger directed
less toward the child than toward her
own palpable folly and oversight.