The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1919-09-26
THE DAILY
SHORT STORY
.To HIGHEST Bidder.
BY lola FORESTER.
(coyright, 1919, by the Mcclure
Newspaper Syndicate.)

have telt interested IN tne lIudl
fate Of the WIndygood estate, yet as
he saw the broad advertisement OF
the local auctioneer in the little week
IL paper he felt a peculiar twinge OF
Shat some have called heart strings.
After breakfast he took the small
chuminy roadster and made the three
and one-llnlf mile run along the shore
fosd 10 the grounds.
There van an arched stone gate
way at tho entrance on the side road,
and he left the car there and went up
the winding drive alone.
1t was a large square house, built III
the italian villa style, with project
ing tile roof and iron wrought balloon
les With tumbling masses OF Chamber
ing vines and flowers. The view out
to sea was splendid.
! In the gardens that dipped in four
wide terraces 10 the beach he found
everything oYergrown and neglected;
even the two statues on their pedestals
looked forlorn--a STOPPING Mercury
lacing his sandal and questionlnb
Echo.
Dexter made up his mind he would
put in a bid for this place simply be-
cause he liked it. Not to rent.
He did not have to commercialize
his tastes. He would put old Jerry in
as caretaker, with his wife. 1t was,
more than anything else, the wish to
save the beauty Of the old place from
the hands of vandals who would not
see 1t.
And here he turned the corner of the
path and found girl watching him
intently from the summer house. She
was a stranger to him and TO the viii
lage, he knew. Tall and slender and
dark, with the look OF a startled child.
Her wide brimmed hat was of dark
blue straw and she wore sweeping
dark blue travellers cloak capped in
military style. The two gazed at each
other in surprised silence for a mo-
ment and then she beckoned to him to
approach. Not in friendly manner,
but imperiously.
when are you going to :ell this
placer"
'I'm not going to sell it a all. in
tend to buy it," he answered courte-
ously, one foot on the lower step Of
the summer house. 81 am not the auc-
tioneer. My name is Dexter"
She frowned and paused. Evident
ly his appearance inspired confidence.
for, after quick second glance, she
explained:
II have come from Italy. This vas
my fathers house. Perhaps you know
Of hin?"
Dexter's eyes were steady and keen.
He knew more Of Seward Coates than
his daughter did, he fancied. Improve
dent, extravagant, lovable, he had de-
scended on Wahasset years before,
built the house on the cliffs and spent
two summers there before going
abroad. The estate was to be sold at
auction now, he understood, for ac-
cumulated unpaid taxes.
my father is dead" she added,
without emotion. HE was in the war.
My mother is very beautiful, but she
has no head at all for business, so 1
am managing things now"
Dexter nodded his head gravely. She
ives deeply in earnest, and he won
dered if her mother could be any
lovelier than she herself.
I'VE do not wish to sell Windgood
at all. ! shall pay the taxes and live
here. do not wonder my father loved
1T. 1t is a place to forget war and
trouble and death, isn't it? l do not
care to leave it at all"
Don't, then" he said quickly. Let
me send you couple Of competent.
trustworthy old helpers, and pay of |
these taxes, and look out for things for
you. / knew your father, and have
several Of his paintings myself. l
should be glad, indeed, to have you for
q neighbor."
he left her still in the old summer
house, resting, roses in her lap and
peace in her dark eyes. Before sun
down, old Jerry, aud Roxy, his wife,
were installed, and a telegram had
come back from Boston, announcing
that Mrs. Coates would arrive in the !
morning. Dexter reviewed his days
activities and laughed to himself.
Eyes like a brown moth wing" he
said slowly, "and her name is Fran
cesca wonder II Seward Coates
rambling spirit brought her back to
the rose garden by the sea for satety's
sake"
He leaned back bis head In the deep
leather chair, thinking how as a young.
tier he had loved TO visit Coates, ana
bow good he had been to the boy who
admired his work and adventurous life.
Now there would be no auction, no
plping out OF the old story, no pack
ING away OF the paintings from tue
broad low walls. He sent off tele-
gram over the telephone wire to the
little station, saying he would not re-
urn to New York for two months and
TODD on his own veraada until mid
iiEht smoking and watching one lone
light over at the house on the cliff.
ftwas six weeks later. He was busy
writing about dusk In the living room
aien suddenly francesca stepped into
me room from the long windows that
opened on the veranda.
She had lace scarf around her head
and was out Of breath. She held
crumpled In her hand long folded.
paper and handed it to him with eyes
that sparkled traglcally.
n found that in his desk. OF course
We did not know. We will leave at
once, my mother says, and we apollo
gize'
he opened and read 1t, inwardly
ursing the big hearted irresponsi-
bility Of Coates. Unreservedly he gave
Windygood, in the event of his death,