The Little River news., 1919-12-06
JAMES FATHER By MARJORIE PHILLIPS.
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contempt TOT nllnSelt. Alter all, what rights hsd he to claim this favored woman's love. so willingly given? Be tween her ways and the ways of his people, great gulf was fixed, and in the eagerness of his love for Madeline he had been too cowardly to refer to the humbleness of his old home, where his father still lived.
 James Burnie had climbed rapidly the ladder of success and would gladly have shared its benefits with the rug ged old Scotchman who stubbornly re- fused them all
 ''I'll live as like to live, Jamie," he had said. New ways and new friends would bring no new pleasures" So James continued in his splendid bachelor apartment in the city, while i old Burnie Senior went happily about his household duties just q little far ther away, keeping the floors as clean and the dishes as shining as when his faithful wife had been there to full fill these duties. But the weekly vis- it's of the younger James, were to hiin- self continual source of humiliation. When he had first met Madeline he had adored her from afar, never dreaming that this crowning conquest might be his.
 Madeline, the accomplished reared in luxury, as mother and grandmother had been before her. Her love had gone out to join him as naturally as a flower seeks the sum-, and their be- trOthal was inevitable. Now, only. as they planned their future together did he compare mentally this father of hers, this polished accustomed man of successful world, with the con tented Scotchman bending in comfort ably shabby clothes over his flower beds, or whistling cheerily as he placed the blue cups back in their cupboard.
 What would Madeline say-What would she thnk-When he must bring this stopped old figure into her pres ence and present him as his father; hers, to be.
 Jamie Burnie was not SnOb. In his soul he loathed himself for the trepidation this fancied picture Occa- stoned. So, time went on, and in his anxiety he neglected to urge the set ting of the wedding day.
 The entertainments with which Mad eline's irreproachable friends favored the engaged couple were brilliant and many. But beneath the strain of gay. ety, perhaps, the girls health began to fail; the color left her cheeks and her eyes seemed to take on an appeal ing light James Burnie and Mad eline's father were alike concerned.
 It was after the doctor had forbid den the acceptance of invitations, and suggested long rides in the open air instead, that the pretty color came back again, and Madeline's spirits grew brighter accordingly.
 James Burnie often wondered at the curious looks she gave him. He won dered too, at sort of gentle softness in her manner Never had she been so endearing; more and more like cloud before the sun of his happiness was the consciousness of this growing shame of hs-of the inevitable fact of his crude old father. And then one evening when James Burnie called, Madeline came, seriously to sit upon the garden bench at his side.
 "I have had such a gloriously rest full afternoon" she said. "One of many recently spent in the same way. It has been like leaving the stage of a theater for play, James, and going back into real life-simple life, and sweet Madeline threw out her arms with Il free gesture.
 "A place, where no critical audience forever awaits ones acting. So l cast aside my acting, James, and l was just a tired girl, comforted and cheered by the kindeSt human heart that ever beat. It has been an experience James, to meet such a nobly simple soul" she said
 During one of my first afternoon drives I became faint and left my car in the road, while I asked at a little cottage for some milk to drink. An old ScOtchman who keeps house there alone brought it to me But first I must obey his commands and take the milk seated in a great comfy chair on the porch. Afterwards. I must see his neat house and his garden, and as we walked together his shrewd old eyes seemed to read my very life. did not need to tell him that my doc tor had ordered rest and country air, or that I was sick unto death of com mittees and various public affairs. The old Scotchman knew it all-he had read it in my face. And he planned, with a planning which I did not real ize at the time, that I must stop to- morrow to pick the big roses in his garden, and the next day, to look at his purple plum-laden tree. So every day I came to rest in the bolstered old chair on the porch with the glass of cream waiting and growing larger each time, while the old man talked to me of life, of books, of people, until felt that I had failed before in much knowl- edge that was true and needful. He spoke of his boy. and his tone was as tender as it was proud"
 Madeline stood up, her eyes were shining.
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