Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1915-05-07
CHAPTER u.

able one. That portion Of the house
which rightly may be described as
public" In order to distinguish 1t
from other parts where privacy was
enforced, was not unlike any Of the
richly furnished, old fashioned places
in the lower part Of the city. where
there are still traces left Of the Knick-
erbockers and their times. This was
not the home Of men who had been
merely rich: II was not wealth alone
that stood behind these stately invest
ments.
At the top OF the house we're the
rooms which no one entered except by
the gracious will Of the master. Here
James Brood had stored the quaint.
priceless treasures OF his own peculiar
fancy-exquisite. curious things from
the mystic East, things that are not
to be bought and sold but come only
to the hand of him who searches In
lands where peril Is the price.
Worlds separated the upper and
lower regions of that fine old house;
a single step took one from the sedate
Occident into the very heart Of the
Orient; a narrow threshold was the
line between the rugged West and the
soft, %languorous, seductive East. In
this part Of the house, James Brood,
when at home for one Of his brief
cfn We Cnant MANN ~ hio hnurc In 90.
c~lusion, shut off from the rest Of the
establishment as completely as II he
we're the inhabitant of another world.
Attended by his Hindu servant, a
silent mar named Ranjab, and on &C.
casions by his secretary, he saw but
little Of the remaining members OF
his rather extensive household. For
several years he had been engaged In
the task of writing his memoirs-so
called-in so far as they related to his
experiences and researches Of the past
twenty years. =
His secretary and amanuensis vas
Lydia Desmond. the nineteen-year-old
daughter of his one-time companion
and friend. the late John Desmond,
whose death occurred when the girl
was barely ten years Of age.
Brood, on hearing Of the mans
death, Immediately made inquiries con
corning the condition In which he had
left his wife and child, with the result
that MIS-. Desmond was installed as
~housekeeper In the New York house
and the daughter given every advan.
tage in the way OF education. Des'
mond had left nothing in the shape of
riches except undiminished love for
his wife and a diary kept during those
perilous days before he met and mar
ried her. This diary was being incor.
porated In the history Of James
Brood's adventures. by consent Of the
widow, and was to speak for Brood
in words he could not with modesty
utter for himself. In these pages John
Desmond was to tell his own story, in
his own way, for Brood's love for his
+. friend was broad enough even to ad.
init OF that. He was to share HIS life
in retrospect with Desmond and the
two old men as he had shared 1t with
them in reality.
. Lydia's room, adjoining her moth
!. er's, was on the third floor at the foot
of the small stairway leading up to
the prescribed retreat at the top OF
/, the house. There was a small sitting.
room off the two bed chambers, given
over entirely to Mrs. Desmond and her
daughter. In this little room, Frederic
;. Brood spent many a quiet, happy hour,
The Desmonds, mother and daughter,
understood and pitied the lonely boy
3 who came to the big house o o after
. they we're themselves installed. His
: heart, which had many sores, expand
ed and glowed in the warmth OF their
| kindness and affection; the plague Of
unfriendllness that was his by ABSORB
Q ton gave way before this unexpected
! kindness, not Immediately. 1t is true
( but completely In the end.
BY nature he was slow to respond
to the advances OF others; his life had
- been such that avarice accounted fol
a all that he received from others In the
r shape of respect and consideration
He was prone to discount a friendly
attitude for the simple reason that In
his experience all friendships were
j, married by the fact that their sincerity
rested entirely upon the generosity Of
8 the man who paid for them-his ia
Their. No one had loved him for him
self; no one had given him an unself
Q ish thought In all the years OF his
boyhood.
! At first he held himself aloof from
the Desmonds; he was slow to sur
render. He suspected them Of the
8 same motives that had been the basis
of all previous attachments. When a.
last he realized that they were no
like the others, his cup Of Joy, Ions
r an empty vessel, was filled to the briu
e and his happiness was without bounds
They were amazed by the transforms
tion. The rather %sullen, unapproach
g able lad became at once so friendly
y so dependent, that had they not beer
n acquainted with the causes behind tn,
s old state Of reticence, his very jo'
9 might have made a nuisance of him
He followed Mrs. Desmond about il
very much the same spirit that in
spires a hungry dog; he watched he