The weekly Iberian. (New Iberia, La.) 1894-1946, 1922-03-25
A Rich Mans
Debt in Equity
BY MARTHA MACWILLIAMS

0. i9Z2. by Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate
Miss Eleanor Garland took her let
ters from the mailbox, signing deeply
as she scanned them. Plenty of them
live In row. yet not the letter that
was the hinge to her hopes. She had
been looking for it two previous morn
lngs. 1t seemed impossible that she
could bear the strain of waiting
longer.
1t was not love ietter-rather cold
business. Business vital to her pres
ent and future Which meant, of
course, ii had 10 do with money. Money
To save the home 80 she might leave II
with good conscience to carve out
career. But not d begin. letter
Death would have been easier than
anything of that sort. 1t had beer
hard enough to remind IA rich man of
debt in equity. Law might not recog-
nize it, but her grandfather had given
him, then pennIess. we'll born, well
Drained, his characterization. Il pro-
fession and maintenance through the
waiting time it had taken for him to
get Il foothold.
He had stammered, wien he went,
something about paying aIl--later.
His benefactor had smiled ut him:
PAY by passing it or. Maybe you'll
see plenty of other lads needing
helping hand" And so the two had
parted without strain on either side.
If the man, Howard Lyle, had any
sort of memory, he must know the
value of the security he had offered
him. The plantation had been home
to him in his vacations He had come
there for holidays in his days of struS-
Cling. True. it was net all it had been.
but still well worth the money she
needed-S2, 900 without interest for
five years would let her turn her deft
fingers, her eye for liEe and color. to
deserved profit.
Then she would pay-to the last
penny. Meantime. there was the land.
1t could neither die, run. nor wash
away. Earned in thrifty if easy fash
ion, it would keep granny, blind Aunt
Nell, Aunt Joe and her boys comfort
able, as they had always been. She
had Eo artistic yearning, albeit she
loved color and texture with real pas
sion, but a mad desire to be active,
doing things, being somebody. not in
vainglory, but because doing was her
greatest joy.
Being all wOmanly; she sighed in
secret for a horne, husband worthy
all love, children and the delight OF
training them, but somehow none Of
the men who had lowered while on
the horizon had seemed to her the
right sort. That is to say, her ideal
fought with her OppOrtunity-and so
far had won, hands down. She had
somehow always cOntrasted her posi-
BILE suitOrs with the Howard Lyle of
her small-girl memory. He had been
slim and tall and 1.-THE, with long
face and mouth forbidding save
when he smiled.
Not handsome - still possessed of
something that had put these others
visible in the flesh out Of court with
her. She had built no romance around
him-that he had married a year after
leaving the neighborhood was the sa-
lient thing she knew of him. That
and his money-by law-ladder he had
climbed to the height OF millions. If
he had children-girls especially-she
knew they were lucky; he was the
sort to look after and cherish his own.
AS she sauntered homeward reading
an opened letter a small car turned
into the lane, coming so swiftly that
In minute it was upon her. She
drew aside with start-the car was
50 nearly nOiseless it surprised her.
1t checked-a man sprang eagerly
from it and caught her arm, saying
II am-the answer to your letter. You
would have had 1t earlier, only was
away" Turning her to face him as
he spoke, then almost staggering as
he breathed rather than said, "Elinor
Garland You-you take me back
to-youth. 1t is uncanny-you might
be the Elinor I knew then"
you you loved herr? EIinor
asked with sudden cIairvoyance. He
DOWCu Ills HCdu SllC iONCu lie loo
better than herself. Do you know why
she sent me away, her father abetting?
They did not tell me why-blindness
was coming Quickly-they would not
let me carry the weight-and l never
knew 1t until month ago. Going
through my wife's private papers after
her death I found the letter that
would have told me-and eased my
soul of torment.
"Can you guess what 1t has meant
to 60 all these years hugging a scar
ing fame? thought they had weighed
me In the balance and found me want
ing. That is why kept silence
stayed away from the best friends man
ever had. all these years. And then
came your letter. can't tell you how
II made me feel. But this much you
must hear-all the money you need or
want or will touch Is yours for the
taking. have no child-yOu shall be
as my own. Now, take me to blind