The Madison journal. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1888-current, 1916-05-20
SECOND STORY

10 IeSeI'eu lot the "lAuO" uieSotl u
a great city's shops. BY caravan and
boat and rail. by camel, ibex, mule
and horse come the treasures OF the
world into his cunning hands. Lofts
and factories stife human lives with
out stint tina. the window dresser may
allure the throng.
II was a particularly charming pair
OF slippers, and the identical shade of
ribbon she desired that caught and
held Rita Deane's eyes. or course,
purchase was out Of the question.
Since earliest remembrance her
father had drUmmed into her pretty
head. that personal vanity was the
deadiest OF sins And bcsides-Nlrs.
Sharpe, Reverend Deane's housekeep-
er. held tightly TO her arm.
Surreptitiously. Rita fumbled the
money in her purse. Yes, she had
enough-just enough.
She lifted her eyes to another win
dow on the seventh floor of the great
office building across the street,
where James White, her fiance,
transacted the affairs of his huge es-
tate. She could see him dimly, pacing
up and down in his office, now and
then glancing at letter in his hand.
She had heard something of the con-
tents OF that letter from her father
before he had dispatched it. In fact
he had read it to her. after an exceed
ingly painful scene. She had rebelled
at being obliged to listen to the harsh
dictum: You, a rich backslider in my
church, marry my daughter Rita?
Never! How you met her puzzles me,
as | have always carefully guarded
her"
Yes. the lines OF that letter had
scared themselves like letters Of fire
upon her brain.
Again she turned to the window,
Some sudden impulse of insurrection
frothed within her soul.
Look! Look" she cried. excitedly,
pointing toward the end Of the line
OF blocked traffic.
Curiosity won. AS Mrs. Sharpe's
iron fingers relaxed upon their grip,
Rita Deane's feet glided swiftly inside
the doors of the shop. 1t was a full
five minutes before she returned, inno-
Gently assuming an air of injury at the
housekeeper's reproaches for her dis
appearance. The slippers and the rib
bon hidden beneath her little jacket
more than made up for any punish
ment that could ever be hers.
IN hn nIYrtr oh
OF the dragon housekeeper. The more
quickly she reached home the sooner
would she see the enchanting trans
formation the finery mace in her APP
pearance.
Letter 3r no letter, dictation or no
dictation. she would see James again.
Once in her own room she studied
her reflection in the mirror. surprised
to find that the sins had left no mark
upon her pretty face.
Cautiously, bit fearfully, she
loosed the masses of her hair from
their tight braids, binding them with
the splendid ribbon. reveling in the
effect its contrast worked in her ap-
pearance.
And then the slippers!
Carried away with her delight, with
this new sensation, this realization of
her charms, her feet-those beauti-
fully shod feet-began to perform
strange capers. began to steal away
her sense OF caution. They moved
IA gay, spirited steps, faster. ever
hn irI
more like festive wood-sprite pris
oned in this house of gloom. And then
then a hand fell upon her shoulder. |
A firm. iron hand it was: a hand
that seemed to grip like five bands
Of unbreakable steel about the very
soul of her.
The hand left her shoulder. She
dared not meet the look she knew was |
upon her fathers face.
She felt a little tug at her hair |
Then a wild rage seized her as she |
saw the precious ribbon dangling |
from her fathers hand, held in the !
finger tips as though the very con |
tact defiled him. She lifted fierce eyes |
toward his own, hot protest upon her |
lips, but the habit OF lifelong o5edi- |
ence is not readily downed. His trem-
bling forefinger Indicated the slippers
while his lips opened and closed with |
out any words coming He moistened |
his lips with the tip OF his tongue, but |
still the voice was hoarse with sup |
pressed passion as he commanded her |
TO remove the offending slippers.
Slavishly. yet hating herself for her
obedience, she placed them in his |
hand. averting her eyes to hide the
sullen rebellion there
Il have fought against this trait in
you, Rita. I have prayed for victory. |
I should not have blamed you so
harshly. My prayers shall yet win
victory for me. victory over the van
fly you inherited from your poor.
weak mother
The same slippers-the same nib
bon, Rita You were Just a child |
then, that day your mother brought a
doll dressed as a dancing girl. The
doll wore slippers just like these.
Inst such A ribbon was bound about |