The Liberal democrat. [volume] (Liberal, Kan.) 1911-1924, 1914-11-20

the thunderous knocking at the door.
The old maid felt her heart stop
beating for a moment. Who could 1t
be, at this time of night? Then the
thought came swiftly that perhaps the
parent of some one of her charges was
i'll and this was the summons. Still
ing her fears, she went resolutely to
the door and opened it.
who is it?" she called.
No one answered. She cupped her
hand to her ear. She could hear the
clatter of horses dimly.
WELL" she exclaimed; rather an
grily, too.
She was in the act of closing the
door when the light from the hall dis
covered to her the bundle on the
steps. She stopped and touched it.
Good heavens, it's a child"
She picked the bundle up. A whim-
per came from it, tired little whim-
per of protest. She ran back to the
reception room. A foundlingl And
on her doorstep! 1t was incredible.
What in the world should she do? 1t
would create a scandal and hurt the
prestige of the school. Some one had
mistaken her select private school
for farmhouse. 1t was frightful.
Then she unwrapped the child. 1t
was about a year old, dimpled and
golden haired. A thumb was in its
rosebud mouth and its blue eyes
looked up trustfully into her own.
why, you cherub!" cried the old
maid, strange turmoil in her heart.
She caught the child to her breast, and
then for the first time noticed the
thick envelope pinned to the child's
cloak. She put the baby into a chair
and broke open the envelope.
Name this child Florence Gray. l
will send annually a liberal sum for
her support and reclaim her on her
eighteenth birthday The other half
of the inclosed bracelet will identify
me. Treat the girl well, for l shall
watch over her in secret"
Into the fixed routine of her hum
drum life had come mystery, a tan
talizing, fascinating mystery. She had
read of foundlings left on doorsteps
from paper covered novels confis-
Gated from her pupils-but that one
should be placed upon her own re-
spectacle doorstep! Suddenly she
smiled down at the child and the
child smiled back. And there was
nothing more to be done except to
bow before the DEGREES Of fate. Like
all prim old maids, her heart was full
Of unrequited romance, and here was
something she might spend its floods
upon without let or hindrance. AL
ready she was hoping that the man or
woman who had left it might never
come back.
The child grew. Regularly each
year, upon certain date, Miss Farlow
received a registered letter with
money. These letters came from all
parts of the world; always the same
sum, always the same line-"I am
watching"
Thus seventeen years passed; and
shorter than the one before. For she
loved the child with all her heart. She
had not trained young girls all these
years without becoming adept in the
art of reading the true signs OF breed.
ing. There was no ordinary blood in
Florence; the fact was emphasized
by her exquisite face, her small hands
and feet, her spirit and gentleness.
And now, at any day, some one with
broken bracelet might come for her,
AS the days went on the heart of Su-
san Farlow grew heavy.
Never mind, aunty," said Florence;
81 shall always come back to see you"
She meant it, poor child; but how
was she to know the terrors which lay
beyond the horizon?
The house of Stanley Hargreave,
in Riverdale was the house of no or
binary rich man. Outside it was sim
pie enough, but within you learned
what kind Of a man Hargreave was.
There were rare Ispahans and Saruks
on the floors and tapestries on the
walls, and here and there fine paint
ing The library itself represented
fortune. Money had been laid out
lavishly but never wastefully. 1t was
the home of scholar, dreamer,
wide traveller.
In the library stood the master of the
house, idly lingering some papers
which lay on the study table. He
shrugged at some unpleasant thought,
settled his overcoat about his shout
ders, took up his hat, and walked from
the room, frowning slightly. The but
Ter, who also acted In the capacity Of
valet, always within call when his
master was about, stepped swiftly to
the hall door and opened 1t.
81 may be out late, JONES'" said
Hargreave.
yes, sir"
Hargreave stared into his face keen
ly, as if trying to pierce the grave
face to learn what was going on be-
hind 1t.
How long have you been with me?"
Fourteen years, sir"