The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1922-08-17

"A present? From whom, II you
please?"
"Oh, | promised not to tell he's a
particular friend OF mine. Aren't the
stones prettyf"
Mrs. Maillard was speechless. She
compressed her firm lips and watched
Lucie replace the sapphire collar with
out a word to offer. Silently she ex-
tended a cOrsage bouquet from the pile
beside her; then, in a trembling voice,
forced herself to explain about the ia
vOr inside.
Slipping her mask into place Lucie
was gone, not without relief. She
knew very well that within half an
hour Bob Maillard would be Informed
that she had accepted gifts Of jewels
from other men, with all the accompa-
nying implications and additions that
Imagination could furnish. For, al
though Bob Maillard wanted very
much indeed to marry her, his mother
had no intention OF SanctiOning such a
union.
Neither has Uncle Joseph" she re-
fected, smiling to herself, land neither
have /! SO we're all agreed, except
Bob
"Columbine !" A hand fell upon her
wrist. 'Columbine! Turn and confess
thy sins"
She had come to the foot of the
wide, oId-fashioned stairway that led
to the floors above, and beside her had
suddenly appeared a Franciscan monk,
cowled and gowned in sober brown
from head to foot.
"You frightened me, holy man - she
cried, gaily. Confess to you, indeed !!
Not l."
Never a better chance, butterfly Of
the world. Haste not to the dance,
fair sister-tarry a while and invite
the soul in speech of import Having
passed the dragon at the gate, tarry
a moment with this man of vows"
"Shrive me quickly, then," she said,
laughing.
"Now, without confession? Would
yVa i'oNt t"N CIV Nouh tliouShto III
give p%enance?"
"If you can do that, holy man, I may
confess; so prove it quickly"
The Franciscan leaned forward. His
voice came low, distinct, clear-cut, and
he spoke in the French which Lucie
understood as another mother-tongue,
as do most of the older families Of
New Orleans.
"See how / read them, mademoi-
selle' One thought is of uneasy sus-
plcion; 1t Is typiied by a hard-lipped,
grasping man. One thought Is Of pro-
found regret it Is typified by a darkly
yelling stream of oil. One thought"
Suddenly Lucie had shrunk away
from him. "Who-who are your" she
breathed, with a gasp that was almost
of fear. who are you, monsieur?'
"A humble brother of minor ORDERS"
and he bowed. "Shall | not continue
with my reading? The third, mademoi-
selle, is N of hope; it is typitied by a
small man who is dressed all in
gray"
Lucie turned away from him quickly.
II think that you have made some
grave error, monsieur" she said. Her
voice was cold, charged with dismissal
and offended dignity. ~ pray you, ex
cuse me-"
Not waiting any response, she has
tily ran up the stairs. After her, for
a moment, gazed the Franciscan, then
shrugged his wide shoulders and
plunged into the crowd.
While she danced, while she chat
tered and laughed and entered into the
mad gaiety of the evening, Lucie Lee
danois could not Danish fromrher mind
that ominous Franciscan. How could
he have known? How could he have
guessed what only she and one other
barely suspected? There was no proof,
of course: the very breath Of suspi-
cion seemed a calumny against an up
right man!
Joseph Maillard had sold that Terre-
bonnie land six months before any gas
or oil had been discovered there. and
eight months before Lucie had come
into the management OF e own at
fairs. He had not known about the
minerals, of course it was a case only
of bad judgment. Yet, Individually, he
was TO- q shareholder and officer In
the Bayou OIL company, the concern
which had bought that strip of land.
Lucie strove angrily to Danish the
dark thoughts from her mind. Why.
Maillard was a rich man, a banker, an
honorable gentleman To doubt his
honor, although he was a harsh and
a stern man. vas impossible. Lucie
knew him better than most. and could
not believe
May l crave pardon for my errorf"
came q voice at her elbow. She turned,
to Q the Franciscan again beside
her. with . thousand apologies for
tmpertinence. mademolselle / IN very
sorry for my faults. WIN not that