The Ely miner., 1913-08-29


must have it,"
"The fact is, Lucy" Gregory at
this point turned to his wife-for at
certain odd moments he found relief
in doing so-"the fact is-the fact is,
this girl is the-er-daughter of-of a
very old friend of mine-a friend who
was-was friend years ago, long be-
| fore moved to Littleburg, long before
| saw you, Lucy. That was when my
| home was in New York have told
you all about that time of my youth,
when | lived with my father in New
! York. Well, before my father died,
| was acquainted with-this friend. l
owed that person a great debt, not of
| money-a debt of-what shall say?"
Fran suggested, Honor"
Gregory mopped his brow while all
| looked from Fran to him. He re-
sumed desperately: 81 owed a great
debt to that friend-oh, not of money,
of course-a debt which circumstances
prevented me from paying-from
meeting-which 1 still owe to the
memory of that-er-of that dead
stand, yes, dead"
Mrs. Gregory could not understand
her husbands unaccustomed hesitan-
cy. She inquired of Fran, "And is
your mother dead, too, little girl?"
That simple question, innocently
preferred, directed the course of fu-
ture events. Mr.. Gregory had not in
tentionally spoken of his friend in
such way as TO throw doubt upon the
sex. Now that he realized how his
wife's misunderstanding might save
him, he had not the courage to unde-
ceive her.
Fran waited for him to speak. The
delay had lost him the power to re-
veal the truth. Would Fran betray
him? He wished that the thunder
might drown out the sound of her
words, but the storm seemed holding
its breath to listen.
Fran said quietly, my mother died
three years ago."
Mrs. Gregory asked her husband,
did you ever tell me about this
friend? I'd remember from his name;
what was it?"
1t seemed impossible for him to ut
ter the name which had sounded from
his lips so often in love. He opened
his lips, but he could not say Jose
phine." Besides, the last name would
do. Derry" he gasped.
Come here, Fran Derry" said Mrs.
Gregory, reaching out her hand, with
tnat sweet smile that somehow made
Fran feel the dew of tears.
Hamilton Gregory plucked up spir-
it's. Il couldn't turn away the daugh-
ter of my old friend. You wouldn't
want me to do that. None of you
would. Now that I've explained ev-
erything l hope therell be no objec-
ton to her staying here in the house.
that is, if she wants to stay. She has
come to do it, she says-all the way
from New York"
Mrs. Gregory slipped her arm about
the Independent shoulders, and drew
the girl down beside. her upon a divan.
"Do you know she said gently, you
are the very first Of all his New York
friends who has come into my life?
Indeed, l am willing, and indeed you
shall stay with us, just as long as you
will"
Fran asked impulsively, as she
clasped her hands, do you think you
could like me? Could-you?"
Dear child"-the answer was ac-
companied by a gentle pressure, you
are the daughter of my husbands
friend. That's enough for me. You
need a home, and you shall have one
with US. l like you already, dear"
Tears dimmed Fran's eyes. And I
just love you," she cried. My! What
woman you are!"
Grace Noir was silent. She liked
Fran less than ever, but her look was
that of a hired secretary, saying,
with all this, have nothing 60 do"
Doubtless. when alone with Hamilton
Gregory, she would express her sin
cere conviction that the girls presence
would interfere with his workout
these others would not understand.
Fran's unconventionality had given
to Mrs. Gregory's laugh girlish note,
but almost at once her face resumed
it's wonted gravity. Perhaps the
slight hollows in the cheeks had been
pressed by the fingers of care, but it
was rather lack of light than presence
of shadow, that told Fran something
was missing from the woman-heart
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