The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1915-11-22
fCont1nued.1

ZssNo, no! l have pride, but it is the pride of pity, the pride of love. l cali- not crush out either. at command from you. 1t is i've years since you denied her"
 ..AhY' He was one of those men whose faces grow white when angered. All the blood went with rush to his heart, leaving his mind clear and cold. T have told you never. to mention herr I have no<daughter. g < q have. And oh, think of her at nighti Where is she? Is she dead, alive, in nniseIsy2 She, too, has pride, for she has never written but once T tell you I have no daughter
 esAnd I repeat have. And if did not depend upon you for my bread and s butter I would seek and find her. In my heart I have never sf0rsaken her. sShe is still more to you than ever was'
 NO. Since that day when you ceas- ed to De my lover. Money and pomp and false pride have robbed me of both my daughter and my lover.''
 He sat down. This seems to be crisis, Jane" He spoke gently now.
 T want her.s
 sIdsten. Was I the tyrant, the ogre? < Did eyer deny her anything in req son? Did I not do my duty in laying all the facts beforeI her and proving them-that the man was a youthful blackleg, gambler, a handsome scount Ndrel, the son of one of the greatest rascals in the state2 God knows it was not that she had chosen as her lover poor young man, honest.
 He paused passionately.
 X .-I know as well as you do that;love f- Fe1T-U drive. But in the face of all these facts she ran away and married him. have spoken. dfsowned my daugh- ter the day she disoWned me- for that's what she did, and so long as live she shall, not enter this house When am dead and gone you may do as you see it with my money. I make no reser- vations. ''
 .sshe may he hungry and cold.''
 eAm I to blame? Jane. you are wrong Money has not made me q hard man, but 1t has given me some thing to think. of. That girls foolish ness seemed to change my heart into stone have never said anything. but know that you gave her your inheEe itance. It was yours, to do with as you pleased. Doubtless she dumped it into his lap Now listen, Rather than have this subject brought up again l will meet you halfway. Find her if you can. Feed and c1othe her if she is hungry and cold for I am certain the scoundreI left her when he found that he eou1d not get his crooked fingers into my wallet But neverslet me hear her spoken of again in this house. Never bring her to me, hoping that l shall forgive her. That is the last word from me on the subject 2
 With this hesleft the room,
 quarter after 70.
 It tinkled from an ormolu clock which had once been Napoleon's. This house, but Z. few blocks removed from the other, would have been called 2 palace in Enfope It was filled with priceless treasures such as only these modern Aladdins may purchase.
 To the intelligent eye there was some thing more than the treasures thena- selves discernible in the atmosphere, in the arrangement, in the lack or juEn- ble, which few mi1lionaires escape who leave the nlling of their mansions to collectors more or less greedy.
 From the antique 1spahans on the floor to the OK blood and peach blow and Persian plaque all had been col 1ected, one by one, by the man who
 
 do, all he had left to love. He was a very N6 man
 The man in the first house; and he knew nothing of the others existence they dwelt in worlds apart, yet their lives were definitely linked together. Together they had danced in the pup pet booth of pain to the wires of an other man who had emptied their houses of laughter and happiness.
 Quarter after 10.
 The old man heard the message from Time.
 Under the study lamp his head gllm- mered like new minted silver. Slowly he laid down the faded photograph. He touched the hand bell, and the liv- ' cried footman came infron the han.
 Gall up MT. Simmons and tell him to come over. Tell him it is matter of life and death-thnt urgently need hiIn.''
 The lawyer was almost as old as his client. His withcred face was full of concern as, later by half an hour, the footman ushered him into the room.
 Anything wfongg' he asked.
 "No. At last everything is right. I've been q fool fol. thirty years. Sim mons, stubborn, heartlcss fool! But I've found myself thought it was pride, but it was only anger, which l was ashamed to confess"
 The lawyer saw the old photograph. Instantly his thoughts went back to the beautiful child wilo had romped these Iordly, silent rooms
 want. to make q will tonight. Charities will have to come second ! want you to find out if Marguerite left any children The lawyers eyes sparkled.
 ~I want you to find out Go to that devil and ask him point blank. I am very lonely. I want to see young peo pie in this house before I die.s He