Williams news., 1917-10-11

AASoAAS ohC coio IL WdS yOuE WISH l should marry him."
 T never said that" Craven observed thoughtfully. '"I did say that, if 1t was your wish and for your happiness, gave my consent gladly. It wouldn't be like me, would it, to wish unhappi- ness to my own flesh and -blood?"
 'No-it wasn't like you: that's why I didn't understand. lit seemed as if you'd turned against me-"
 "Liddy-dear
 "Oh, I know was wrong; but what could I think? You wouldn't write. But knew if I could see and talk to you, could make you understand. So pawned some things-some of your presents-and got enough money for my passage. And now"
 Her voice was breaking. Craven passed an arm round her and drew her close to him. "There, my dear girl, thereI"
 And now-Tm in your wayi"
 Lydia r' He had lost none of his old-time trick of quieting her with a show of righteous indignation. "Youve no right to talk like that to your old daddy!"
 'What am I to think? I surprise you making love-you are angry with me-
 Not angry, dearie, but so surprised l was hardly myself. Do be quiet now for time, and let me do the talking. Listen, and learn never to judge a man hastily. Has 1t never struck you how little you really know about our family history?"
 How often have I asked you"
 'Ah, but that was long ago, when you were-ah-too young to under stand. never meant to keep you per manently in the dark. In the first place, you've always believed yourself the child of American parents.'
 "But surely" the girl expostulated. Mrs. Grummle told me"
 "What she believed, too, no doubt. The truth is, your mother was an Amer ican; but I'm British to the marrow of me. Craven's a good English name, you know. Not that it matters. I cut away from my people forever when they tried to prevent my marrying the woman I loved, an American girl who'd taken to the stage and somehow dr1fted to London. We'll, we defied the family, and it disowned me, and I went on the stage with my wife. When you were born-yes, in Mrs. Grum- mle's, Bloomsbury-our combined pay didn't run to anything much. Most of the time one of us was out of a job. Still, we were happy enough till we went to America"
 He was silent for several minutes, apparently lost in memories.
 Lydia, fearing to interrupt, waited in mute fascination. Something of this history she had guessed; much she might have guessed from words, hints, clues, carelessly sown in the past; but little or nothing had she ever known definitely.
 "You weren't strong child, and we feared the effect on you of the Atlantic voyage. Besides, our engagement was to last eight weeks only. So we left you in Mrs. Grummle's care. Five weeks after we reached New York your mother came down with typhoid. A month later she died; and when I had paid funeral expenses I was pen niless in a strange land, our company had gone back home, and my chance of ever seeing England again was to earn enough money for my return pas sage. I wrote Mrs. Grummle to look out for you, and But this isn't a hard-luck story. Ultimately I left the stage for employment more attractive and better paid; but it meant perma- nent residence in America. However, nothing called me back to England, since you were in good hands. I think we may Say that for Mrs. Grummle." "She was always kind," Lydia af- firmed gently.
 "When 1 could afford a trip back to England, I found you in the best of condition, and it seemed hardly right