The Kansas City sun. (Kansas City, Mo.) 1908-1924, 1914-08-22

"AeN ny WOAhnA > AAohAhGt WathOn AhQ
was true" replied my mother.
I looked from one to the other,
puzzled. l knew Mrs. F~ramingham, a
graceful, attractive widow, at least
forty-1ve years old, who had often
called at our house and whose hus-
band, dead now fer two years, had
been my fathers friend. What more
natural, / thought, than that my father
should run in to see her in her lone
illness on this holiday night? Father
evidently thought as l did, and said as
much.
No explanations are necessary"
affirmed my mother, "at least" she
added, with a glance at me, where
your young and innocent daughter is"
My father sprang to his feet. His
face was pale and his eyes as hard as
steel.
"Since you have made that Speech"
he declared, where your young and
innocent daughter is, you will please
explain 1t to her"
II decline to do anything of the
kind" said my mother. When she is
older she win understand only too
well, 1 fear, what life and men are.
Until then, IL she can love you l will
let her do 3d."
A wave of angry contempt swept
over me. l looked from one q the
other as If l had never really known
either before. Yet, in the turmoil of
emotions that possessed me, l found
1t within me to see the justice of my
fathers stand. My mother, not he,
had started the discussion in my pres
ence. l pushed my chair back from
the table with a brief, Excuse mel"
and started to leave the room. My
mother stopped me.
stay where you are!" she com
manded. You always champion your
father just because l have lever told
you my side of any trouble between
us. Now, since your father seems not
to object to your knowing the truth,
you may see for yourself how things
stand"
Il do not care to see or hear either
side," 1 insisted, frightened at my own
temerity.
you are right, Elizabeth" said my
father gravely. "As your mother has
just said, you will know life soon
enough without being dragged into
painful scenes in which you have nc
concern. You may leave the room
now If you want to-"
But, as 1 passed my mothers chair
she held out her arms to me with a
moan ooh, Bessie, Bessie! my only
comfort, don't go like this! 1t will
kill me II you, too, turn against mel"
1 threw my arms about her and
began to cry.
When I lifted my head from her
shoulder my fathers chair was empty
He had quietly left the Don 1 know
that he did not make the proposed cal
that evening for, an hour later, wher
l went downstairs to telephone tc
Mary Lane that my mother was toe
far from well for me to go out, l saw I'm
der his door a streak of light, and heard
him walking up and down for a long
time afterward. All that evening
sat by my mothers couch, stroking
her aching head, and letting her talk
out her griefs. 1 entered her room a
girl, simple hearted and trustful; ]
came out of it at bedtime a puzzled
distrustful, disappointed woman. And
it was my own mother who had
wrought this change in me, for she
had told me that my father cared
more for another woman than for hel
or for me. She spoke of love pas
sages" between him and Mrs. Fran
ingham. At first I was too sick al
heart to ask any questions. Then my
better self asserted it's rights to learn
what evidence she had against the
man who had been a tender father tt
me, and I asked:
How do you know these things,
What proofs have your"
81 am no fool" she retorted, "anC
l l have kept my eyes open, and have
watched, as any wife should do if she
would keep her husbands love"
7 In the dark l smiled bitterly. Il
this the way women keep love?
:, wondered.
But, mother" l pleaded. "suspic
ions are not proof"
My mother laughed sarcastically
1T is my fault, l suppose, that you ar,
SO unsophisticated. It is because o
my mistaken loyalty to your fathe
l that I have held my peace and KEEP
you in ignorance. Now it is you
b right to know the truth"
"Why?" l queried again.
d Sc that you may appreciate jus
what kind of a man he is" she de
. clared, with such absolute lack O
t logic that / asked no more. Then sh
+: went on to say that since I would no
d believe what she told me l Nigh
watch developments myself, II I coul
n not take the word Of my own mother
y But she had never thought that he
r own child would take sides agains
Q her"
g AS usual, weak fear gripped me a
the thought of displeasing her. | toll
her that did not mean to wound hel
t that l only wanted to be Just
y Il should think you might trust m
d in this matter" she complained
s After all have borne for you, afte
9 all I have done for you and sacrifice
t for you from babyhood, my wor
ought to go for something!"
1 felt conscience-smitten. Peace la
in accepting her statements, and unde
the stress of her reproaches and teal
l found myself yielding weakly an
d assuring her that I was sorry that / ha
n seemed lacking in sympathy, and tina
y l would do anything to make her hal
p~y-anythiugi"