The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1913-01-11

They ached duly, the dull pain of be-
Wllderment, which these days recur-
red with frequency. A sense Of time
was lacking; for luncheon hour came
and passed without her being definite
~ aware Of it. This in itself was G.
puzzle. jaunt, such as she had Ia
Ken that morning, always keened the
edge of her appetite; and yet, there
was no craving whatever.
Where was her mother? Il she
would only come now, the cumulative
doubts of all these months should be
put into speech. They had treated her
as one would treat child; 1t was
neither just nor reasonable. II not as
a child, but as one they dared not
trust, then they were afraid of her.
But why? She pressed her hands to-
gether, lmpotently. Ryanne, clever as
ne was, had made e slip or two which
he had sought to cover up with jest.
why should he confess himself to be
a rogue unless his tongue had got the
better Of his discretion? If he was a
rogue, why should her mother and her
uncle make use of him, if not for
roguery's sake? They were fools, fools!
If they had but seen and understood
her as she was, she would have gone
to the bitter end with them, loyalty,
with sealed lips. But no; they had
CHOSEN not to see; and in this had
morally betrayed her All, 1t ranked,
and the injustice of it grew from pain
/ to fury. At that moment, had she
known anything, she certainly would
have denounced them. OF what use
was loyalty, since none of them
sought it in her?
| The Major was wiser than he knew
when he spoke of the hundredth dam
ger, the danger unforeseen, the danger
against which they could make no
preparation. And he would have been
first to sense the irony of it could he
have seen where this danger lay.
Why should they wish the pleasant
young man out of the way? Why
should Ryanne wish to inveig1e him
into the hands of this man Mahomed?
| Was it merely self-preservation or
something deeper, more sinister?
| Think! Why couldn't she think of
something? It was only a little pleas
ure trip to Cairo, they had told her,
| and when she had asked to go along,
they seemed willing enough. But they
had come to this hotel, when formerly
they had always put up at Shop
heard's. A, here again the question
why? Was it because Mr.. Jones was
staying here? She liked him, what lit.
tie she had seen of him. He was out
of an altogether different world than
that to which she was accustomed. He
was neither insanely mad over cards
nor a social idler. He was young
man with a real interest in life, a
worker, Notwithstanding that he was
reputed to be independently rich. And
her mother had once borrowed money
of him, never intending to pay it back.
The shame of it! And why should she
approach him t21e very first day and
recall the incident, if not with the sul-
terror purpose of using him further?
As a bal strikes wall only to re
bound to the thrower, so 1t was with
all these questions. There was never
any answer.
Tired out, mentally and physically,
she laid her head upon the cool top
of the stand. And in this position her
mother, who had returned to dress
for tea, found her. Believing Fortune
to be asleep, Mrs. Chedsoye dropped
hand upon her shoulder.
Fortune raised her head
why. child, what is the matter?''
the mother asked. The face she saw
was not tear-stained; it was as cold
and passionless as that by which sculp-
tors represent their interpretations of
Justice.
"Matter?" Fortune spoke, in a tone
that did not reassure the other. SIN
the first place have only one real
question to ask. It depends upon how
you answer it. Am I really your
daughter?"
REALLY my daughter?" Mrs. Ched-
soye stepped back, genuinely aston
ished Really my daughter? The
child is mad!" as if addressing an i'm
aginary third person. What makes
you ask such silly question:" She
was in a hurry to change her dress,
but the new attitude Of this child of
hers warranted some patience
'sThat is no answer said Fortune.
with the unmoVed deliberation of
prosecuting attorney.
Certainly you are my daughter"
Good. If you had denied it,
should have held my peace; but since
you admit that am OF your flesh and
blood, am going to force you to rec
ognize that in such capacity I have
some rights. I did not ask to come
into this world; but insomuch as / am
here, | propose to become an indi-
vidual, not thing to be given bread
and butter upon sufferance. / have
been talking with Horace. / met him
in the bazaars this morning. He said
some things which you must answer"
Horace? And what has he said,
NAV foil Her nynrpc cien x,.e As-