The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1915-04-01
CHAPTER n.

able one. That portion OF the house
which rightly may be described as
public" In order TO distinguish II
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 tho 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;
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
J stays. spent many of his hours In Sc
clusion, shut off from the rest OF the
! 1 establishment as completely as II he
, we're the inhabitant of another world.
Attended by his Hindu servant,
! silent man named Ranjab. and on oc-
= caslons by his secretary, he saw but
e little of the remaining members OF
: his rather extensive household. For
q 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 was
:. Lydia Desmond, the nineteen-year-old
h daughter OF his one-time companion
and friend. the late John Desmond.
D whose death occurred when the girl
y was barely ten years of age.
y Brood, on hearing of the mans
Y. death, Immediately made inquiries con-
cerning the condition in which he had
r. left his wife and child. with the result
d that Mrs. Desmond was installed as
s. housekeeper in the New York house
and the daughter given every advan'
!" tage In the way of education. Des-
r. mond had left nothing in the shape OF
m riches except undiminished love for
his wife and a diary kept during those
s, perilous days before he met and mar
AAr xnaa hnin0 fnanr
a popated in the history Of James
OF Brood's adventures, by consent of the
X, widow, and was to speak for Brood
in words he could not with modesty
re utter for himself In these pages John
Desmond was to tell his own story. In
ee his own way. for Brood's love for his
ID. friend was broad enough even to ad
init of that He was to share his life
d. In retrospect with Desmond and the
ef. two old men as he had shared 1t Will
ed them in reality.
sr. Lydia's room, adjoining her moth
Ig- ers, was on the third floor at the foo
OF the small stairway leading up t
le- the prescribed retreat at the top o
es. the house. There was a small sitting
er room off the two bed chambers, givel
ch over entirely to Mrs. Desmond and he
daughter. In this little room. Frederi
dr. Brood spent many quiet. happy hour
The Desmonds, mother and daughter
Id. understood and pitied the lonely bo,
he who came to the big house soon afte
he they we're themselves installed. Hi
en- heart, which had many sores, expant
tor ed and glowed in the warmth OF thei
till kindness and affection; the plague Q
nd unfriendliness that was his by absorl
he ton gave way before this unexpecte
'od kindness, not Immediately. II is tru'
nix but completely in the end.
ile BY nature he was slow to respon
TO the advances of others; his life ha
e." been such that avarice accounted fC
b all that he received from others In th
Re- shape of respect and consideration
He was prone to discount a friendl
attitude for the simple reason that
his experience all friendships wei
les, marred by the fact that their sincerii
rested entirely upon the generosity
ing the man who paid for them-his {
the ther No one had loved him for hir
rip self; no one had given him an unsel
lite ish thought in all the years OF h
vas boyhood.
:. At first he held himself aloof fro
ap- the Desmonds; he was slow to 81
render. He suspected them OF Il
ing same motives that had been the bas
of all previous attachments. When
aid last he realized that they were n
like the others, his cup OF Joy. loI
der an empty vessel, was filled to the bri
the and his happiness was without bound
pic They we're amazed by the transform
ned tion. The rather sullen. unapproac
ung able lad became at once so friendl
'nly so dependent. that had they not be-
rom acquainted with the causes behind 4
his old state of reticence, his very 4
he might have made a nuisance OF hi
II lie followed Mrs. Desmond about
sec- very much the same spirit that
v. n sTirpa a hungry dog. no Wafahad n