Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1923-04-18

The veins in MS old hands stood out,
blue cords, as he again signified Lev
ngton's superiority over all living men.
This slow salaam was merely the Tau
Kuanian command to follow. A dOu-
bic scar was crossed upon the SER
wants neck suggesting the strokes of
two swords on a single errand. Now
the ancient lips formed the English
word: Come"
There was nothing to lose, SO Lev
ingtGn was willing. 1t might be an OPP
pOrtunity. though he rather feared it
was connected with his delinquency in
the matter of race-blending. They pro-
ceeded through the inner corridors,
past the ever-burning lamps of alabas-
ter, but did not turn in beneath the
darkened arch of the throne room. In
stead, they went on, to the end of the
passage. The old Chinese paused.
Through a closed door Con heard the
voice of Andrew March. He opened
the door and entered.
A victrola stood beside a long mis-
sion table, on which were books and
yellow lamp. An American college pen
nant was pinned above brown mission
couch. There were sofa pillows and
shelf of books. A kodak and a riding
crop hung from a dagger stuck in the
wall. A morris chair was set before
one of the windows. March sat upon
the arm of the chair, lingering the lace
curtain. Con stood still.
Near March was a young girl who
seemed subtly afraid of something-of
Lexington himself. She wore silken
blouse, open at the throat, and skirt
of the smartly defined mode of Ameri-
can avenues, following the line of her
slender body. Her timidity was never
theless frightened with pleasure. The
face was sun-tanned, the eyes held a
diamond light. Here was the lovely
golden-brown hair that had flown free
upon the gray cloak of the rider, the
same that the princess of yesterday had
bound up high in court fashion. She
was looking at him again.
It was March who spoke first, and
the young man saw that he had tears
in his eyes. His voice was unreli-
able just now:
81 have found my little girl"
Lexington bowed, struggling with an
inner tidal wave. Andrew March
seized the girls hands, and she turned
to him frankly. He was saying: But
our little mother-Eithna-" He kissed
her hair, and she placed her hand upon
his arm as if to ease his pain. She was
frail beside the veteran of the sands.
She did not embrace him, and March
seemed not to expect any demonstfa-
ton of sentiment. He regaineG self
control and faced Con with al effort to
smile.
''This is Con Lexington" he said to
the girl. To Con: "My daughter.
Helen
Her name leaped in Cons heart. He
bowed over her hand and found him
self murmuring, princess" In the
blur Of his inward excitement her voice
was like sunlight as it falls rich and
mellow across an Oaken staircase. He
was strongly affected by it. There
was an embarrassed moment during
which Con glanced out at the window
at the moving branches of the white
oaks. Quickly he swung back. to add:
'It is a great privilege to be sum-
mOned."
Helen said simply: 81 am not sure
how to speak. / never saw white
man up to this hour"
She intended this to be a compli-
ment, for she was smiling; yet he
could not forget the fact that she was
the royal creature who had glanced
across the throne-room yesterday.
"Why have they been so extremely
careful to keep us away?" he wondered
aloud.
'It is ASIA" she replied and, truly,
he had forgotten that.
There was no mistaking the grand
child of the aged Stephen March. She
was the embodiment of all that men
hold dear. Her eyes made bold to tell
all that in another would have been
held secret It was the old story of
Asia. Perhaps her days in this desert
ldSlISSS udQ USCu a LlOhOLO1J VI AAhO
cence, but they had not made her smile
blank. Con could not estimate any
thing beyond the fact. that when she
swayed slightly beside her father,
deeply searching for the right word,
her young grace was matchless.
"Do not be sorrowful," she whis-
pered to her father
March nodded eyes that is right"
and his face frightened as he regarded
her.
She crossed the room, lightly, a rap
id fitting gait that somehow expressed
the far Eastern feminine. Yet the
clean whip of the West was there also.
and through her personality these
Qualities were a smooth, soft madness
to Lexington. He was aware that all
the journeys of his life had either end
ed here or just begun.
All the alluring limitations that had
troubled the lad Stephen March, when
he had crossed America before the
days of railroads, were ensouled in
Helen, the same that had drawn him
"a De- 60