The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1915-02-21

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 was
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
concerning the condition in which he
had left his wife and child with the
result that Mrs. Desmond was install.
ed as housekeeper in the New York
house and the daughter given every
advantage in the way of education
Desmond had left nothing in the shape
of riches except undiminished love for
his wife and 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
admit of that. He was to share to his
life in retrospect with Desmond and
the two old men as he had shared it
with them in reality.
Lydias 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
che house. There was small sitting
room off the two bed chambers given
fover entirely to Mrs. Desmond and her
daughter In this little room, Fred
eric Brood spent many quiet, happy
nour. The Desmonds, mother and
daughter understood and pitied the
.onely boy who came to the big house
soon after they were themselves in
stalled. His heart, which had many
sores, expanded and glowed in the
warmth OF their kindness and affection
me plague of unfriendliness that was
his by absorption gave way before this
unexpected kindness, not Immediately
It is true, but completely in the end
BY nature he was slow to respond tc
the advances of others; his life had
oeen such that avarice accounted fol-
all that he-received from others in the
shape of respect and consideration. He
vas prone to discount friendly atti
,ude for the simple reason that in his
experience all friendships were mar
red by the fact that their sincerity
rested entirely upon the generosity
of the man who paid for them-his
father. No one had loved him fol
himself; no one had given him an un
selfish thought in all the years of his
boyhood.
At first he held himself aloof from
the Desmonds; he was slow to surren
der He suspected them of the same
motives that had been the basis of al
previous attachments. When at las
he realized that they were not like the
others, his cup of joy, long an empty
vessel, was filled to the brim and his
happiness was without bounds. They
were amazed by the transformation
The rather sullen, unapproachable lac
became at once so friendly, so de
pendent, that had they not been ac
quainted with the causes behind The
old state of reticence, his very jo!
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 hel
with eager, half-famished eyes; III
was on her heels four-fifths of tn,
time. AS for Lydia, pretty little Lydia
he adored her. His heart began TO
the first time to sing with the joy o
youth, and the sensation was a move
one. 1t had seemed to him that h,
could never be anything but an OLE
!. man.
1t was his custom, on coming hom,
for the night, no matter what the houl
may have been, to pause before Lyd
las door on the way to his own room
at the other end of the long hall Usu
ally, however. he was at home Ions
before her bed time, and they spent