The Grenada sentinel. [volume] (Grenada, Miss.) 1868-1955, 1921-04-29


enough"
Laughter dubbed into Pamela's eyes
alongside of the tears, but, in spite of
it, the neXt moment she was crying
softly.
"P-pOOr M-Maggie! she sObbed.
TOmlinsOn bobbed his head up and
down in formal sympathy, too old to
worry much over woman's weeping.
II understand that she must ave
went" he said. Elise you wouldn't be
alone, miss. Will you have your
breakfast In bed?"
"Oh. could II" shifted Pamela, and
then her eyes fell on the clock. mo,
l can't" she decided for herself. You
see, Tomlinson, 1 only pro-promised to
stay until ten"
"IT be getting your bath ready,
then, miss" said TOmlinSOn, and with
drew.
Half an hour later Pamela was en-
jOying a lonely "tray"-breakfast, placed
at her command before the couch.
which faced the friendly fire in the big
living-room. Without being a mind
reader. it is possible to Surmise that
she ate very slowly, in the vain hope
that Mr.. Randolph would pop in. with
or without Father Christmas, and
Joining her in the meal, Danish q baby
Mr.. Gloom that was hanging round.
While she was still toying with her
food she heard the bell ring and Tom
lihsOn'S voice saving, in deep. respect
full tones: Miss Thornton will see you,
sir. She is in the Sitting-rOOm."
Pamela dropped her egg-spoOn and
stood up, back TO the fire. just in time
to face a neatly dressed. ~pink-cheeked.
b~right-eyed, baId-headed little gentle
man, who stood, poised but alert, in
the open doorway, like a bird about
to peck at her to see if she were the
real thing.
Miss Thornton?" he asked, in q Pc
c~uliarly liquid voice.
Pamela nodded her head twice.
Il am Mr.. Borden Milyuns,' cOntin-
ued the molten voice, and the bright
eyes studied her face eXpectantly.
Pamela puckered her brows in an
effort to meet that expectancy half
way. but failed.
Are yOu?" she asked dOubtfully,
and with a mental reservation against
Mr.. Robert Hervey Randolph for out
raging the traditions of childhood by
sending a Father Christmas in this
dapper form. Wont you sit DOWN."
she added politely.
Mr.. Milyuns hung poised for a sec
Ond longer, and then advanced ON the
couch deciSively, sat down On one end
Of it, and waved his hand at the other.
Tomlinson slipped in and out, bearing
the breakfast-tray way. Pamela ac-
cepted Mr.. MilyunS' silent invitation
and seated herself, but tentatively, as
though she could only stay for a min
ute.
Make yourself comfortable, my
dear" said Mr.. Milyuns; I'm going to
talk to you for some time"
you can't" said Pam; mot here. I
only have the flat for six minutes
longer. That is. / only prO-prOmised
to stay here until ten" Her eyes wan
dered half expectantly, half wistfully
to the door.
The bird-man smiled.
well see about that" he said. "Tm
sorry you don't remember me. If you
are indeed Miss ImOgene Pamela
Thornton, l used to take you on my
knee often, many years ago"
Pamela could no longer be startled
by such announcements.
That's what TOmlinsOn said this
morning" she remarked. Ever since
last night, everybody / meet seems to |
to know my real name. l don't I'M
derstand it."
please trust me-" said Mr.. MilyunS,
land you'll soon understand a lot more
than that" He drew a slip from his
pocket. Nov, do answer me careful
ly. Tell me the addresses of the first
four places you and Maggie lived in
after your father died"
81 can't remember the first" said
Pam, but, after a seconds thought, |
ratified off the names of three streets,
and located addresses approximately
by describing nearby corners promi-
nent to a child'S mind for one reason
or another. Those are the next
three" she said. after that, we
went"
But Mr.. Milyuns was satisfied.
That's enough for formalities, my
dear. I'm convinced that you are the
person for whom the firm of Milyuns. |
Branch & Milyuns has been searching
for years. Do you remember your
great-uncle, Asa ThOrnton?"
YES" said Pamela, a vague wonder
and terror in her eyes; "but 1 didn't
know he was real"
"'Didn't know he was real!" ex-
claimed Mr.. Milyuns.. what do you
meanY"
maggie used to say" explained
Pamela, eff you're not good, your
great-uncle, Asa Thornton, will catch
you, and he hasn't cut his finger nails
sinca vour moor father married vour