The Brattleboro daily reformer. (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1913-1955, 1921-05-04


GO 1921. by Mcclure Newspaper syndicate.)
large gray car purred along the
uneven country road. The driver, a
man of 60, his hair iron-gray, his eyes
clear, guided it skilfully. He was
content with his lot, and well might he
be. Fortune had dealt kindly with
him.
When a boy he had left this very
county with no more than silver
dollar in his pocket and his wardrobe
on his back.
Now as the car swept through the
dusk and the familiar old hills recalled
to him his past life it was with no lit
tie satisfaction that he knew his
wealth had been accrued with no hard
ship to another. SO far as he knew,
and he made it a point to know, he
had harmed no one and all who knew
him respected him.
That there was something lacking
the old man was aware.
The man stopped the car and
jumped out with the agility of youth.
His eyes sought a familiar landmark.
1t was there. A narrow winding foot
path bordered by a little garden of
sweet alyssum, baby's breath, and mi
gonette.
Having curved around a clump of
| hollyhocks, the path abruptly ended
before toy-like little white house. \
single candle glowed warm in win
dow. The man knocked softly at the
| green paneled door. His heart bound
| ed at the response he remembered so
well, a light springing step-the same.
The door opened and the gentleman
saw before him in the candle-light,
dainty little woman in gray. her white
hair curling softly above serene blue
eyes. \ single rose nestled in her
bodice, its freshness no fairer than its
wearer's cheeks. Behind her in the
tiny room the Candle-light gIowed on
polished surfaces of tables and chairs,
and the old man longed to enter. BY
the GOODNESS with which the little lady
regarded him. he felt he was not rec
ognized so he offered:
Madam, my machine is at the road
side. 1t will not run. May / accept
your hospitalityE"
Come in" He noticed the voice,
naturally mellow. was hard. The door
closed behind them and the woman
turned TO him tierCely, Hugh Basse,
lido you dare ca,ne here?"
The old t8an was startled and be-
Icause hesdid Hot understand he asked
| with sincere wouder. Miss Serena, ]
do not know why l should not come
back. I passed through the village, the
old hills recalled our-my youth, and
that same old clump of immortelles by
the gate decided me. I could not pass
them by.
Hugh Basse, you'll say that to me,
Althea's sister,"
"AltheaT' the old man echoed, but
why Althea? She was but a baby. II
was always you, Miss Serena, even if
! did not come back before"
"Say no more of that, sir, what Of
Althea's child?'
"Ah, she married."
"You ask that? Men are cruel"
The old man pondered. Truly, he
did not know what the little woman
meant nor why her fury.
Again the green paneled door opened
briskly. a pretty girl of 10 entered
with a soft rustic of summer skirts.
why auntie, I did not know of
company" She advanced to the old
man and held to him a cordial hand.
did I see your car in the lane"
The old man assented and smiled
kindly into the bright black eyes. Miss
Serena shuddered and commanded
sternly, Helen. go to your room. l
will call you when-when-"
Hugh Basse, is that your chlld?'
The old man drew back in astonish-
ment. The little room seemed to
whirl about him. "Althea's child? My
childT" echoed in his ears.
Notwithstanding Miss Serena
seated herself and pointed to a chair
for him-"didn't you send for Althea
to come to you in the city"
''Neverw the old man answered
truthfulIy.
:, Miss Serena covered her face with
her hands.
"She said you did-Althea said you
did. She said Helen was your child"
She searched his face for the truth
"When Althea died she said you
were Helen's father. The neighbors
all know. Helen knows and believes
it is you.
Again the silence was heavy. The
little gilt clock licked faster and faster
until the old man could not bear the
sound of it. He arose unsteadily an6
stumbled to the door, an older man
His fingers fumbled for the old-fash
Toned brass latch. He found it, anC
slowly drew open the door. A gus
= of wind swept across his hot brow
cooling its feverishness. Beyond IL
II the moonlight the old familiar hills
rested sublime in the night. The mar
turned slowly back into the room. H'