The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1915-08-19

isccrvco irom YOU 4 svpe III neSei
see you again. X aver have a sor
I'll not treat him as you've treated
your son. BY God, you don't deserve
the honor of being called father. You
don't deserve to have a son. | wish
to God had never been obliged to cal
you father. ] don't know what you
did to my mother, but If you treated
her as Just then my husband found
his voice. He sprang to his feet, and
I've V seen such a look of rage
/ thought he was going to strike Fred
little scream, of course. | was SO ter
ritied. But he only said-and it was
horrible the way he said it--'You fool
you bastard!' And Frederic laughed
In his face and cried out, unafraid, I'm
| glad You call me a bastard! BY God.
I'd rather be one than to be your son.
1t would at least give me something
to be proud ola real father"
Good h~eaven!" fell from Mrs. Des-
mond's white lips.
Yvonne seemed to have paused to
catch her breath. Her breast heaved
conyulsively, the grip of her hands
frightened on the arms of the chair.
Suddenly she resumed her recital, but
her voice was hoarse and tremulous.
Il was terribly frightened. thought
OF calling out to Jones, but IL had
no voice! All, you have never seen two
angry men waiting to spring at each
others threats, Mrs. Desmond. My
husband suddenly regained control OF
himself. He was very calm. Come
with me- he said t. Frederic. This
is not the place to wash our filthy
family linen. You say you want some
thing to be proud Of. Well. you shall
have your wish. Come to my study
And they went away together. neither
speaking a word to me-they did not
even glance in my direction. They
went up the stairs. / heard the door
close behind them-away up there.
That was half an hour ago. | have
been waiting, too-waiting as you are
waiting now-to comfort Frederic
when he comes out of that room a
wreck"
Mrs. Desmond started up. an incred-
ulous look in her eyes.
You are taking his side? You are
against your husband? Oh, now I
know the kind of you are. l
know"
Peace! You do not know the kind
OF woman | am. You never will know.
Yes, | shall take sides with Frederic"
you do not love your husband"
A strange, unfathomable smile came
into YVonne's face and stayed there.
Mrs. Desmond experienced the same
odd feeling she had had years ago on
first seeing the Sphinx. She was sud-
denly confronted by an unsuitable
mystery.
"He shall not drive me out Of his
house, Mrs. Desmond" was her an
swer to the challenge.
A door slammed in the upper re-
gions of the house. Both women start
ed to their feet.
1T is over," breathed Yvonne. with
a tremulous sigh.
I'VE shall see how well they we're
able to take care of themselves. Mrs.
Brood" said Mrs. Desmond In a low
voice.
I'VE shall see-yes," said the other,
mechanically. Suddenly she turned
on the tall, accusing figure beside her.
go away! Go now! command
you to go. This is our affair, Mrs.
Desmond. You are not needed here.
You were too late, as you say. | beg
of you, go!" She strobe swiftly
toward the door. AS she was about
TO place her hand on the knob it vas
opened from the other side. and Ran
jab stood before them.
"Sahib begs to be excused. Mrs. Des-
mond. He is just going out"
Going out?" cried Yvonne, who had
shrunk back into the room.
Yes, sahibah. You will please ex-
cuse, Mrs. Desmond. He regret very
much"
Mrs. Desmond passed slowly through
the door, which he held open for her.
AS she passed by the Hindu she looked
full into his dark. expressive eyes,
and there was a question in hers. He
did not speak. but she read the answer
as IL 1t were On a printed page. Her
shoulders dropped.
She went back to Lydia.