The Detroit times., 1913-06-23
The Fortunes of the Landrays
n. ssue: Rx Vaughan Kestr ~: : r.: ,:s:s 49,
AaGAse q tn Pyo1aGA yad0A"
SSAse al the Un3uDG" eNa

| virginia IoellnR OF nuIt anu INJURY
grew a. the months passed and he
made no sign; then quite unexpectedly
he surprised her by calling.
suppose you have counted me
rather remiss In the matter OF Step
ems boy. Virginia. he began smooth
ly
Il don't know why you should think
chat. Perhaps there was 10 reason
why you should feel any interest In
him. answered Virginia.
You don't think that, Virginia. You
know that Stephen wrote ME just he
fore his death? | understood Gibbs
to say that he had told you Of this
letter--of It's purport."
| YES" but she glanced at him In
some alarm.
Stephen wished me to assume the
burden OF the boys education. He
knew that could do more for him
In worldly way than you, Virginia.
! and he had tasted the bitterness Of q
struggle to make a place for himself
To write me. TO feel that he must
turn TO me In his extremity, must have
been blow TO his pride. In his let
ter the awkwardness OF his constraint
shows itself. The feeling he had for
ME remained with him to the end"
She knew what he meant. but did
| not answer him. He went on.
Years ago. Virginia. when Stark
took the Landray farm. l made up my
mind that some day you should re-
turn there. I have had to wait. but
recently the farm was sold to me.
It's a Wilma fancy. II you wlll-but
| want you to 90 there and live
Virginia shook her head.
II shall never 60 there" she said.
Watt" he interposed quickly. II
want to sell you the place. Remem-
Der IL was your home all those years;
you went there when you frst came
to Benson"
Il know remember" said Vir-
ginia softly, and the shadow deepened
IN her eyes.
You will reconsider? You will take
the place OF my hands," he urged i'm
patiently.
mo; seem to have lost all desire
TO go back" said Virginia almost sad
Then | am too late" he said bit
terly. 1T should belong TO Stephen"
he urged, making his final appeal
And II should come to him from you
II was his fathers home and his
grandfather's. each generation has
lived there since the Iandrays came
to Ohio; IL should remain in the fam
lily"
But Virginia only shook her head
Benson. too, was silent. but he was
more deeply hurt than he would al
low even to himself He had set his
heart on her going back. II would
be something accomplished in the way
OF rcparation for the wrong he had
done her: IL would have made II the
easier for him to endure the con
seriousness OF that wrong. since he
lived In Its presence always: more
than this. he had conceived II pos
sible that amidst the old surroundings
the OLD relationship might be re-estab-
lished He was haunted by his mem
cries he wished to know again the
sentiment OF days long past but un-
forgotten and unforgetable. And now.
"a always. he encountered her oppo-
sition. and realizing that her will was
stronger than his own: surely love
had written failure large at each crisis
Of his life. II had made OF him. an
honest man. a trickster and a cheat.
What was he living for: he was verg.
Ing on fifty: there were moments
when he felt his age in all it's tragic
incompleteness. He had been de.
frauded OF what was best in life;
unfruitful endeavor had embittered
him. and shame was In his heart A.
tel. ali the wrong he had done her
was insignificant when compared with
he wrong she had done him. for he
might at any time by simple act we'll
within his power make restitution: but
nothing could give him back the years
he had wasted In her service, and at
every turn he had found her unyield-
ing and determined. willing to profit
by HE devotion, but returning moth
ing.
You were speaking OF Stephen a
moment ago." said Virginia.
He did not answer her at once, his
anger toward her had not left him.
About the boy" wheeling sudden.
ly and allowing his glance, moody and
resentful to rest upon her Perhaps
you will think what I have to pro-
pose, unreasonable; but what little I
have done for you has been done a.
you would have II, never as wanted
it. and we have both suffered unnec-
essarily in consequence; but with the
COY. II am to do for him II must
be In his own way, otherwise l can
DO nothing"
Virginia did not speak. but at his
words the look OF alarm came into
her face again.
ut was Stephens wish that should
assume the care OF his SON. He prob
ably felt that I could do for him in
ways you never can. Virginia. I will
take the - he said abruptly.
You wi do nothing OF the kind"
answered Virginia quietly, but her
eyes flashed
He did not seem to hear her, for
he continued:
81 have at last decided that I can
do this. Perhaps II is my duty: AFTER |
nll. he 10 no more a LAndray than |
he IL a Benson
BY q gesture Virginia seemed to put |
aside this idea. The boy had the |
1andray look.
He 10 the image Of his father" she
said tenderly.
Benson smiled
1T has taken me q good while to |
decide what can do. Virginia. II
hope Won have not given your heart |
wholly TO the child"
Still she did not fully comprehend
the drift OF what he was saying.
II you will surrender him to me,
I will make myself responsible for
HE f,st,,vo \ hon ~ -