Indiana daily times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1914-1922, 1921-06-11

delighted her. She was determined to
enjoy every moment OF her stay. Her
nffia board Of savings had been esti-
mated so carefully In connection with
her expenses that she know almost to
penny what her very small surplus
would be when nhe returned to work.
Miss Chester was fortunate in gaining
Father Abram for a friend and compan-
Ion. he knew every road and peak and
slope of the mountains near LakeIands
through him she became acquainted with
the solemn delight of the shadowy, tilted
alsles of the pine forests, the dignity OF
the bare crags, the crystal tonic morn
lngs, the dreamy, golden afternoons full
OF mysterious sadness. So her health inn
proved, and her spirits grew light She
had laugh as genial and hearty in its
Feminine way as the famous laugh OF
Father Abrap Both of them were natu-
raj optimists; and both knew how to pre-
sent a serene and cheerful face to the
world
One day Miss Chester. learned from one
Of the guests the history of Father
Abrams lost child. Quickly she hurried
away and found the miller seated on his
favorite rustic bench near the chalybeate
spring. He was surprised when his little
friend slipped her hand into his. and
looked at him with tears in her eyes.
"Oh, Father Abram," she said, I'm Sd
sorry I didn't know until today about
your little daughter. You will find her
yet some day-Oh, I hope you will"
The miller looked down at her with
his strong, ready smile.
Thank you, Miss Rose" he said, in
his usual CHEEKY tones. But I do not
expect to find Aglala. For few years
| hoped that she had been stolen by
Migrants, and that she still lived but
have lost that hope. believe that
she was drowned"
81 can understand" said Miss Chester
how the doubt must have made It SO
hard to bear. And yet you are so cheer
full and so ready to make other peoples
burdens light. Good Father Abram"
Good Miss Roser' mimicked the mil
more than you do?"
A whimsical mood seemed to strike
"Oh, Father Abram." she cried
wouldn't 1t be grand if I should prove
to be your daughter? Wouldn't II be
romantic? And wouldn't you like to have
me for daughter?"
Indeed, would" said the miller
heartily. IF Aglaia had lived I could
wish for nothing better than for hei
little woman as you are. Maybe you
are A.glaia," he continued. falling fl
with her playful mood; cant you re-
member when we lived at the milf"
Miss Chester Eel swiftly into serious
meditation. Her large eyes were fixed
Father Abram was amused at her quick
return to seriousness. She sat thus for
long time before she spoke
NO she said at length, with a long
sigh. Il can't remember anything al
ell about a mill. | don't think that |
ever saw a flour mill in my life until
| saw your funny little church. And
II were your little girl I would re-
member II, wouldn't /? I'm so sorry,
Father Abram"
so am - said Father Abram humor-
ing her, But II you cannot remember
that you are my little girl. Miss Rose,
surely you can recolleCt being some one
else's. You remember your own parents,
OF course"
"Oh, yes: I remember them very
well-especiaIly my father He WASH I
"A bit ike you, Father Abram. Oh |
was only making believe. Come. now.
you've rested long enough. You prom
ised 10 show me the pool where YOU
can see. the trout playing, this after
noon. ! never saw trout"
Late one afternoon Father Abram set
out for the old mill alone. He often
went 10 sit and think Of the old days
when he lived in the cottage across the
road Time had smooUhed away the
sharpness Of his grief until ne no longer
found the memory Of those times painful
But whenever Abram Strong sat In the
melancholy September afternoons on the
spot where "Dums' used to run In every
day Win her yellow cNrlF ILNln&t inc
smile that Lakelands always saw upon
his face was not there.
The miller made his wHy slowly mp
the winding. steep road. The trees
crowded so close to the edge Of Il that
he walked In their shade, with his hat
in his hand. Squirrels ran playfully
upon the old rail fence at his right.
Quails were calling TO their young broods
in the wheat stubble. The low sun sent
q torrent Of pale gold up the ravine that
opened 10 the West. Early September -
it was within q few days only OF the
Anniversary Of Alcaia's disappearance.
The old over shot wheel. half covered
with mountain ivy. caught patches Of tho
warm sunlight altering through the
trees. The cottage across the road was
still standing, but Il would doubtless go
down before the next winters mountain
blasts. IL was overrun with morning
glory and Wild gourd vines, and the door
hung by one hinge.
Father Abram pushed open the mill
door and entered softly. And then he
stood still wondering He hoard the
sound Of some one within. weeping in
consolably He looked. and saw Miss
Chester sitting in a dim pew, with her
head bowed upon an open letter that
her hands held.
Father Abram went 10 her. and laid
one Of his strong hands firmly upon
hers. She looked up, breathed his name.
and tried TO speak further
Not yet. Miss Rose" said the miller,