The Press., 1922-05-11
A Rich Mans Debt in Equity

sBy MARTHA MACwILLIAMs

g. l922, by Mcclure Newspaper syndicate.
 Miss Eleanor Garland took her let ters from the mailbOx, signing deeply as she scanned them. Plenty of them five in & row; yet not the letter that
 was the hinge to her hopes. She had been looking for 1t two previous morn
 ings. It seemed impossible that she could bear the strain of waiting longer.
 1t was not 6 love letteT--rather cold business. Business vital to her pres ent and future. Which meant, of course, 1t had to do with money. Money to save the home 30 she might leave 1t with a good conscience to carve out a career. But not begging letter. Death would have been easier than anything of that sort. 1t had been hard enough to remind a rich man of debt in equity. Law might not recOg- nize it, but her grandfather had given him, then penniless, well born, well hrained, his characterization, a pro- feSSiOn and maintenance through the waiting time it had taken for him to get foothOld.
 
 something about paying aIl-Iater. His benefactor had smiled at him: "Pay by passing it on. Maybe you'll see plenty of other lads needing a helping hand" And so the two had parted without strain on either side.
 If rhe 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 strug sgling, True. 1t was not all 1t had been, hur still well worth the money she , needed-$2,OOO without interest for tive years would let her turn her delft fingers. her eye for line and color, to deserved profit.
 Then she would pay--to the last penny. Meantime, there was the land. It 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 no 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 home, a husband worthy all love, children and the delight of training them, but somehow none of the men who had lowered a while on the horizon had seemed to her the right sort. That is to say, her ideal fought with her oppoTtunity-and so far had won. hands down. She had somehow always cOntraSted her possi> ble suitOrs with the Howard Lyle of her small-girl memory. He had been slim and tall and 1.-the, with a long face and a mouth forbidding save when he smiled.
 Not handsome -S 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- llent 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 a minute 1t was upon her. She drew aside with 6 staTt-the car was so nearly noiseless 1t surprised her. It checked-a man sprang eagerly from it and caught her arm, saying: T am-the answer to your letter. You would have had 1t earlier, only I was away" Turning her to face him as he spoke, then almost staggering as he breathed rather than said, "ElinOr Garlandl You-yOu take me back to-youth. It Is uncanny-you might be the ElinOr I knew then-'
 You - you - loved herr" Elinor asked with sudden clairvoyance. He bowed his head. "She loved me too better than herself. Do you know why They did not tell me why-blindness was coming Quickly-they would not let me carry the weight-and I never knew it until a month ago. Going through my wife'S private papers after her, death I found the letter that would have told me-and eased mN soul of torment.
 Gan you guess what it has meant to go all these years hugging a scar, ing flame? thought they had weighed me in the balance and found me want AENnP hot Is r ,S1
 stayed away from the best friends man ever: had, all these years. And then came your letter. can't tell you how 1t made me feel. But this much you must hear-all the money you need or want or will touch is yours for the taking. l have no child-you shall be as my own. Now, take me to blind ElinOr. l cannot rest until she knows the truth. Can she bear it?"
 "She can bear-anything." Ellnor said proudly. "I never knew, but al- ways have felt she was the stuff that makes martyrs. And because I have her name want to do it credit. For her sake you may help me all that Is good for me. Work that love Is my real joy"
 Come! fear you will vanish un- less I keep you close" Howard Lyle. answered, half lifting her into the car There he said to the chauffeur. tall, lean and 1.-the, even as he himself had been: Make room. Billy--and drive your prettiest. We are freighting something more precious than gold"
 Aunt Nell on the porch, her fingers flying in and out of bright woolly mazes, caught breath and half rose, leaning forward as the car halted at the steps. She was transpaTent!y lovely, there in the f1ickerIng light, arched over with pink rose clusters, her eyes as beautiful as ever, though sightless, turned toward the sound. As her sometime lover sprang toward her she gave a low cry: Howard At last!" and sank back trembling all