The Washington herald., 1913-03-09

Nou pCEhi " nv. ~ ~ 49,
everything. knew the Josephine
Derry that YOU dcsertcd-sle raised
me. and / know she loved you to the
end. Didn't you ever care for her.
not even at the first. when you got
, her to keep your marriage secret until
you could speak TO your father face
TO face, You must have loved her
| then. And she's the best friend l
ever had. Since she died I've wander
cd-and and / want a home.
The long loneliness OF years found
expression in her eager voice and
pleading eyes, but he was too engrossed
with his own misfortunes TO heed her
emotion Didn't | go back to Spring
field?" he cried out ''Of course | did.
| made inquiries ior her; that's why
went back-to find out what had be-
come of her. Id been gone only three
years, yes. only three year-but, good
heavens, how | had suffered, was 80
changed that nobody knew me He
paused, appalled, at the recollection. i
have always had a terrible capacity for
! suffering | tell you. il was my duty
TO go back to find her. and ] went
back would have acknowledged her
as my wife | would have lived with
| her Id have done the right by her,
though it had killed me Can | say
more than that
Il am glad YOU went back, said Fran
softly. She never knew il. | am SO
glad that you did-even that"
! Yes, | did 60 back, lie said. more
firmly. But she was gone. ! tell YOU
all this because you say she was your
best friend"
A while ago YOU asked me who
anl-and what"
1t doesn't matter he interJected
You were her friend: that IS all
care to know. | went back to Spring
| field. after three years-but she was
gone | was told that her uncle had
cast her off. and she had disappeared
1t seems that she'd made friends with
! a class of people who were not-whc
were not-respectable.
Fran's eyes shone brightly oh, they
were not" she agreed. they were moi
at all what you would call respectable
| They were not religious.
SO | was told" he resumed, lit
tie uncertainty. There was no way foi
me to find her"
Her" cried Fran. you keep say,
ing her Do you mcan-
He hesitated She had chosen hel
parHto live with those people, lcf'
| her to lead the lie that pleased her
That's why | never went back It
Springfield again. I've taken up my
life IN my own way. and left her-yodi
! friend
| Yes: call her that" cried Fran
holding up her head. Il am proud o
that title glory in ii. And in TIN:
| house
i have made my offer" he inter.
rupted decidedly I'll provide for yor
anywhere but in this house"
| Fran regarded him with somber in
tcnsity I've asked for a home with
you on the grounds that Your wlf'
| was my best friend in all the world
and because | am homeless. You re
fuse. suppose that's natural. have
| to guess at YOUR feelings because
haven't been raised among 'rcspecta
| BILE people. I'm sorry you don't Gk'
it, but you re going to provide for M
right here For girl. I'm pretty in
! dependent: folks that don't like me arr
| welcome to all the enjoyment they sc
| out OF their dislike. I'm here to stay
| Suppose you look on me as a sort o
| summer crop. | enjoyed hearing yot
sing. tonight
We reap what VIC sow.
We reap what we SOW
| ! see YOU remember.
| He shuddered at her mockIng holy
| things. Hush, What are you saying
| The past is cut off from NV lie.
have been pardoncd. and | will not
have anybody forcing that past upon
me"
Her words came bitingly. You can't
help it. You sowcd. you can't par
don a seed from growing
Il can help it, and | will. The past
| is no more mine than herS-our mar
| riasc was legal. but it bound me nc
more than il bound her. She chose
her own companions. | have been
| building UP a respectable life, here in
| Littleburg. You shall not overturi
the labor OF the last ten years. You
| can 90. My will is unalterablc. Co
| and do what you cam!
Instead OF anger, Fran showed sor-
row: How long have YOU been mar
| ricd to the second Mrs. Gregory-the
| present one:'
He turned his back upon her as if to
90 to the door. but he wheeled about
Ten years. You understand? Ter
| years of the best work OF my life
| that YOU want to destroy.
Poor LADY, murmured Fran. The
first Mrs. Gregory-'my friend-has
| been dead only three years. You and
she were never divorced. The lady
that you call Mrs. Gregory now-she
isn't your wife, is She:
Il Thought" he was suddenly
| ashen palc-"but thought that She
believed her dead long ago-l was
sure of it-positive. What you say Is
impossible"
But no one can sow without reap
ing" Fran said, still pityingly. Which
YOU sang those words, it was only a
song to you. but music is just bit
| OF Iife's embroidery, while you think
it life itself. You don't SOW. or rear
in a choir loft. You can't sow deeds
and reap words
Il understand you, now" he fal'
| tered You have come to disgrace
me. What good will that do you, OF
or my first wife. You are no alb,
straction. to represent sowing or reap,
ing. but Hesh-and- blood girl who car
go away if she chooses
She chooses to stay, Fran assured
| him.
Then YOU have resolved to ruin me
| and break my wife's heart. The
sweet accomplishing face OF the sec
ond Mrs. Gregory rose before him
ind Grace Noir-what would sht
think.
No. I'm just here to have a home.