Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1913-02-06
ByJ0Hk BRECKENRIDGE ELLIS

there, while the fire in her dark eyes
burned tears to all sorts OF rainbow
colors. 1t seemed to her that OF all
the people in the world, Mrs. Gregory
was the last to hold her in affectionate
embrace. She cried out with a sob,
as II In answer to her dark misgiv.
ings-"Oh, but I want to belong to
somebody"
"You shall belong to mel" exclaimed
Mrs. Gregory. folding her closer
ITO you?" Fran sobbed. overcome by
the wonder of it. "To you. dear heart ?"
With desperate effort she crowded
back intruding thoughts, and grew
calm. Looking over her shoulder at
Simon Jefferson-"No more short
dresses, Mr.. Simon she called. you
know your heart mustn't be excited"
"Fran!" gasped Mrs. Gregory in dis
may, "hush!"
But Simon Jefferson beamed with
pleasure at the girls artless ways. He
knew what was bad for his heart, and
Fran wasn't. Her smiles made him
feel himself a monopolist in sunshine.
Simon Jefferson might be fifty, but he
still had a nose for roses r..
Old Mrs. Jefferson was present, and
from her wheelchair bright eyes read
much that dull ears missed. How gay
Simon is!" smiled the mother--he was
always her spoiled boy.
Mrs. Gregory called through the
trumpet. I'believe Fran has given
brother fresh interest in life"
Simon nodded: he didn't care who
knew it, Since his sisters marriage
to the millionaire philanthropist. Simon
had found life appallingly dull; how
could he have found interest in the
passing years without his heart-com.
plant? Hamilton Gregory's perennial
absorption in the miseries Of folk be-
yond the horizon. and lack of SYM
pathy with those who sat at his table.
set him apart as model, Simon hated
models
Old Mrs. Jefferson beamed upon
Fran and added her commentator:
"She pushes me when want to be
pushed, and pulls me when I want to
be pulled"
Fran clapped her hands like child.
indeed. ooh. what gay old world!'
she cried. There are so many neople
In it that like me-" She danced before
the old lady, then wheeled about with
such energy that her skirts threatened
to level to the breeze
Don't, DON'T" cried Mrs. Gregory
precipitately. Franz"
"Bravo!" shouted Simon Jefferson
"Encore!" ,. ....
Fran widened her fingers to nush
down the rebellious dress. "If'I don't
put leads on me-" she said with con.
f-itinn ho
l feel good. always want to do some
thing wrong-it's awfully dangerous
for person to feel good, I guess. Mrs.
Gregory, you say I can belong to you.
when think about that. want to
dance -. guess you' hardly
know what it means for Fran to belong
to a person. You're going to find out
son, without using the trumpet--a,way
Come on" she shouted to Mrs. Jeffer-
a subtle compliment to those nearly
stone-deaf II mustn't wheel myself
about. so I'm going to wheel you"
AS she passed with her charge. into
the garden, her mind was busy with
thoughts of Grace Noir. BELONGING to
Mrs. Gregory naturally suggested get
ting rid Of the secretary. It would
be exceedingly difiicult "But two
months ought to settle her." Fran
musod.
In the meantime, Grace Noir and
Gregory sat in the lirbary. silently
turning cut an immense amount of
work. feeding the hungry and consot
ing the weak with stroke Of pen and
click Of typewriter. If conversation
S metimes trjckled across the drv CIV.
panse of statistical benovolence. it
was never, on Grace's nart. for pas
time. Beneath her words was ALWAYS
an u lerhowing current. Juggling at the
listener to bear him awav 10 her "ho~"r
haven. AS an expert player of check
her conversations. however brief, were
built 'p with unity Of purpose which
her consciousness Of purest motives
saved from artiflciality.
about this case. number one hun
Cred forty-three." she said. looking M
from her work as copyist. "the girl
whose father wouldn't acknowledge
ner
Write to the matron to give her
good clothing and good schooling" He
spoke softly. There prevailed an
atmosphere Of subtle tenderness: on
this island-the Iibrarv-blossonoe ed
love Of mankind and devotion to lofty
ideals. These two mariners found
themselves ever surrounded by sea
of Indifference: there was not sail in
sight. ut is a sad case" he muir
INJURED.
"You think number enc hundred
forty-three a sad case?" she repeated.
always, when possible. building her
next step out Of the material furnish
ed by her companion. But suppose
she is an impostor He says she's not
his daughter. this number one hundred
forty-three. Maybe she isn't. Would
you call her conduct sad?"
Gregory took exquisite pleasure in
arguing with Grace. because her serene
assumption of being in the right gave
to her beautiful face a touch of the
angelic. 81 should call it impossible"
Impossible? DO you thinl, it's i'm
possible that Fran's deceiving you?
How can you know that she is the
daughter of your friend?"
He grew pale. Oh, if he could have
denied Fran-if he could have joined
Grace In declaring her an impostor.
But she possessed proofs so irrefut.
able that safety lay in admitting her