Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1920-08-14


wind was driving mists and vapors
from the sea across the city.
For a little while Nl-ton lay in his
circasSion- walnut bed, not quite real
circassian- walnut bed, not quite real
membered. The girl flashed into his
mind again, and with her the thought
of his appointment. At knowledge
see her once more, he felt an unac-
countable sensation of mingled plea
sure and uneasiness quite beyond his
powers of analysis.
y trifle worried, he went down to
breakfast. His father was gone. OF
course-sone down TO his State street
offices, to the big shipping business
which for SO many years had mann
tanned Bradford in luxury had put
him thru Harvard and given him his
masters degree, sent him TO Heldei-
berg for u year, and now was en-
abling him to spend another year IN
trying to develop what he believed
to be Il latent talent for writing.
Bradford felt glad that the old gen.
tleman was not there to catechize
him.
His mother--an old school aristo-
crat, a Tillotson, of the NeWbuly
street llOtsonS--hovered about him
while he ate in the Breakfast room
NerVously she supervised the maid,
solicitous lest her boys toast and
eggs and cocoa should not be exactly
suited to his taste. Ninton tolerated
this surveillance, thru habit, tho Sc
cretly ii annoyed him. He evaded
his mothers anxious questions about
his late hours, and with relief came
to the end of an uncomfortable meal.
You're not ill., are you, Bradford? ~
asked she. You look little pale
this morning. What time did you
come in last night?'
"Oh. | don't know. Not very late,
| guess he parted, impatiently
Struggling his shoulders. I'm all
right, mother. Don't worry about
me-"
She came and stood beside him, as
he sat at the table, put her arm over
his shoulder and with the other hand
patted his head.
bradford, my son. never for@et
that you are a Ninton,'' said she.
with pride. "Noblcsse obiigc."
He flushed duly under his fair
skin. The disguised arrow had gone
home His Uncle Galen-the name
was necer mentioned now--had fall
en- by the wayside. mired in the
sloughs of drink and gambling. Galen
Ninton had been the only one of all
that long, clean line TO disgrace the
name. Bradford understood his
mothers unspol<on fear, and his col
or heightened.
Mother" he exclaimed, sliding an
arm about her. "you don't have to
worry, Nothing like nothing
at all like that. know, and III re-
member
She bent and kissed him on the
mouth--a kiss that he returned with
feeling. Then, half ashamed of his
emotion. he stood up aud faced her.
MY boy" she whispered. My big,
clean, good boy!"
He felt her thin hands trcmbR. as
both of them claspcd his. He kissed
her again, then left thc breakfast
room, went back up stairs to his own
room. and sat down there to muse
and ponder.
Thoughts OF the mission singer still
possessed him, to the exclusion OF
everything else. He seemed to see
her face in the smoke of his pipe;
and his determination 10 keep his
appointment. little weakened by his
mothers words. once more fortified
itself CHANGING at the clock, he real
lied that the time for the meeting
was now hardly more than an hour
distant.
He got up fronted himself in his
mirror, and stood there for mo-
ment. studying his own face a little
curiously. What, he wondered. did
Miss Alden think of hin-if indeed
she thought of him at all?
The face he beheld in the glass
was not unprepossessing, and fhad
good lines, tho perhaps it lacked Il
little in determinations; for lie, SO
far, had been too kind to Bradford
Ninton for any very strong or stead
fast qualities to have been forged
out on the anvil of experience. Yet
nothing of evil appeared in the tea-
lures which he now regarded with
unusual interest. The blond hair,
blue eyes, slightly aquiline nose and
well cut chin all told him That ne
was indeed a Ninton.
NO" thought he, Il won't forget
that ever. Whatever happens, as
long as l live, I'll always remember
that"
Then he noted that his cravat was
lust a trifle wrinkled. He changed
it for another, brushed his hair
smoothly back, inspected his nails.
and decided that yesterday alter
moons shave was still in good stand
ing. Satisfied, he turned away.
Which car he wondered, should he
use-the runabout or the limousine!
He pondered Il moment, then made
I'D his mind to take neither. Just
why he had so decided he could not
have told; but a certain innate del
icacy, q sensitive fineness Of instinct,
forbade him to go down to that UNI
known place of toll, that sail loft on
Commercial street, where the mis-
sion singer worked otherwise than
in street car or on foot.
1t was close on a quarter to twelve
as Vinton--having passed thru the
tumultuous clutter of Faneuil Hall
Market, and threaded his way amid
the ruck and turmoil of Commercial
street-caught sight Of Cordwain u
McCutcheon's sign, high up on the
flank of vast, dour, granite pile
that doomed like Gibraltar thru the
mist His heart quickened bit.
What might the girl be doing in SO
unknown and strange a place?
Vinton had indistinct imaginings