The St. Mary banner. (Franklin, Parish of St. Mary, La.) 1889-1931, 1913-08-23
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you out Of the way"
No! Do you think you are talking
Of horse-traders? Once for all. there
is nothing like that DONE
Which was very true. But after the
subdued medical man had departed,
the jug of yellow roses caught Stan
toms eye. A card was dangling from
the stems, a card. blank this time. ex-
cept for a penciled legend:
so glad you were able to race, but
SO sorry you lost to the ATLANTA"
There was no need of signature.
| Stanton very carefully tore the card
into illegible fragments. dragged out
the flowers to fling them into the arid
fireplace. and rang the bell.
Bring fresh ice-water." he babe
the bell-boy who appeared. And a
timetable for New York"
However, he did not leave Lowell
that day, detained by Mr.. Green with
a score of appointments and arrange
ments. Nor was it until two days later
that he found himself free to seek the
address in upper New York which he
had wrested from the reluctant assist
ant manager.
Floyd asked me not to give it to
people," Mr. Green had protested.
did he ask you not to give it to
me-"
mo, but"
Very good; am not people"
Don't you see him enough at race
a. ~ {c hn
best man we have had" fretted mis-
manager.
Stanton was recalling that interview
as he went up the stairs Of the quiet
apartment house indica,ed After all,
it was true that Floyd might have
volunteered his address. himself. II
he had wished it known. Perhaps he
did not want to see his driver unofti-
cially. sense Of unwelcomeness OPP
pressed Stanton, but he kept on his
way. He had never swerved from a
course because Of the opinions OF
others; he did not think of turning
back now
Some one was singing, as he reached
the fourth floor: singing In smooth,
honey-rich, honey-golden contralto.
Warned Of his approach by the bell
pushed below. the door Of the apart
ment was opened, go that the melody
came flooding his hearing with its
haunting familiarity. A little old
Irishwoman in black silk was peering
up at the tall visitor on the threshold.
Mr. Floyd?" he inquired. MY
name is Stanton"
The old servant drew back, smiling
invitation, and pushed aside a cur.
tain. And Stanton saw Jessica Floyd
rise from her seat at the piano. tax.
ing a step to meet him.
She was so like Floyd that he could
have cried out in wonder. yet was
most purely and softly feminine. She
seemed taller. in her clinging pale
blue gown, and even more slender, but
Floyd's silver-gray eyes looked out
from her long lashes, Floyd's bronze
curls clustered around her wide
brows, under the braids wound about
her head. and her smile was more
timid reflection OF the incarnate sun
shine of his.
Il am sorry Jes Is not at home" she
said, holding out her hand with nat
ural grace Of hospitality that rose
above her nervous shyness II am
Jessica Floyd. Mr.. Stanton. his sis
ter"
She was afraid of him. The too OBJ
vious fact struck deep into Stanton
as he felt her fingers flutter in his
clasp. So this was the reputation be
had earned for himself?
Perhaps ! should not have come
he apologized quite humbly. q
Floyd gave me no warrant for it. But
he was very good to me, when | was
sick in Lowell. and l wanted to thank
him"
She looked at him fully, then, and
again he could have cried out at the
wonder Of so meeting Floyd's straight
candor Of regard.
why should you not come? Jes
has not so many friends that they are
not welcome in his home. Only. II he
had known Of your coming. he would
have been here"
She moved to chair. inviting him
by a gesture to do likewise, and took
up a half-embroidered silk scarf
He was called out Of town." she
added, after waiting for her silent
guest to speak "He will be sorry 10
have missed you. From Mr.. Green he
learned that you had quite recovered
after he left you"
And he? l hurt his arm"
She glanced up astonished.
You hurt his ARM"
Il was driving the car" Stanton
assumed grim responsibility.
This time abe laughed. two adorable
dimp!es starting into view In hel