The Bozeman courier. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1919-1954, 1927-07-29
FREEDOM

went out.
Dorothy was sick. Not that she cared
what Henry Blodgett thought, but she
too fair minded a person behind ms
back. In a few minutes she excused
and denying herself to several
parts of "the wall" that wished to &C
her, went out on deck. She
a dark, windy corner where air and
sea rushed past her lii great intent
horses with flowing names. Presently,
out Of the soft turbulent night, the draWl
spoke to her.
I'm not sore, sister. 1t does me good
to hear that sort of thing| learn some
thing and maybe you learn something
too"
Dorothy was silent.
"You see, you're really a right good
pretty little kid, and with brains, too,
but you're in such a hurry to get some
where you've never taken the trouble to
think what other people are thinking
about. Kinda S~ef-centered, II you get
what I mean. You wouldn't do this,
would you? I'm going to be In Paris all
winter-maybe I'll tax an apartment.
You wouldn't let me come and see you
every now n then, SOS you tell
me what's wrong with me, would you!
An I could tell you what's wrong with
you? No? Well, here's my card, any
way. I'll slip it in the pocket of your
coat. And if you ever want anything,
Just call on me. Sure-Td be pleased.
And I know you're a lady, sister"
H has spoiled my trip" Dorothy COM
planned to herself all h rest OF the
night until she fell asleep, n the next
morning n Of the happiest features OF
landing in France was the thought that
she would never see Henry G. Blodgett
again-eXcept, perhaps, for a glimpse OF
him on the train up to Paris. No coun-
try save America could produce such a
combination of rogue and senttmental1st
and nuisance, and she began to think
that perhaps h would never go back TO
America again-that is, to live. Fol some
unexplainable reason this idea made her
think more kindly than ever OF william
Fonda del Concrete and a trife more
bleakly about William Hewitt and Plain
mead.
The train slid into the gray fog of the
Paris station, and Dorothy, her heart
beating wildly, pushed her luggage ou
through the window into the hands OF g
dor, and descending h steps, surveyed
the crowd that stood with lifted heads
Near her was a small woman dressed IN
black and a tall, heavy man with &
dropping mustache. For a moment Doro'
thy hoped these were not her mother anc
her mothers husband, although some
thing told her they were. Then she wa
ashamed of her thoughts; the fog made
every one look shabby. She went up t.
the couple.
ARE yO0 . = liz OCS6A IL aA5ANA
"Are you ?" said the woman ant
Dorothy found herself in her mother
arms. 1t was good after twenty-five
years.
over her mothers shoulder, Doroth.
saw Henry g. Blodgett, whom she ha'
avoided all that morning, staring at he
and then at Marco n a thoughtful, puz
zled way. He threw back his head an
= disappeared down the platform.
= Her mother released her n Luie
r came forward. "Ma'mazelle . Hnat q
I call you?" He leaned toward Doroth
!. as if he wished, too, to kiss her on bot
cheeks. Dorothy avoided the embrac'
She thought him a very ugly n greas
: man, with brown eyes that stood out liz
: those of a frog. Perhaps once he ha
: been handsome in a soft big way.
Dorothy, of course" laughed Dorothy
e mother. "And you-Dorothy-you ca
q hima Luigi"
: Dorothy laughed, too. This was all vel
modern and as it should be.
IS "And now said Madame Marco, "
u will go and have luncheon somewher
. We will send your bags and trunk on
Le the apartment"
4, It was after luncheon, eaten in a re
7, taurant out beyond the Place de la Col
Is corde that bewildered and charmed Dor
d thy with it's sober gaiety, It's SOFT Win
l. its softer music, that she experience
once more, only much more forcibly, Il
d. curious and irritating let-doWn Of sp1r1
she had felt when she had first seen h
1e mother and Marco. She supposed she W
u. tired, she knew she wanted a bath, s.
10 supposed she had expected too much al
that this was an inevitable reaction
after all, her mother was forty-e1ght al
= had gone through much. Anyway, Dor
x thy longed to get to the apartment al
to be by herself for a while.
She pushed aside her wineglass al
ve hoped that her face had not fallen in
II the forbidding lines she knew that
10 times it could assume. At the same N
NC ment she tried to push out OF her mi
the thoughts that had been trOublt
her, the conviction that Marco was o
of the most unpleasant persons she b
ay ever met. Her mother, Oh mott
We was by no means the mother OF
~ dreams. Reunions with relatives WHIT
~ you have not seen in many years-eveI
relative as close as a mother-are not
The are said to be. Dorothy felt no IL
.ty damental, mysterious connection betwe
~ ~ her mother and herself, nothing in CO
~ mon save topics that could not be d
cussed. She supposed, however, that
- this would come later.
ley But her fairly wise young eyes p
ceived on the faces opposite her a la
ination Of WEAKNESS, Of shabbineSS,
~ SelfShnesS, of uncertain and fierce
&c. ing on a continent where class has ha
Az ened into cruelty and money means II
All nitely more than it does in a me-
~ lNONAASAJs OAg WCAS IL ~ 6S&J
III Paris very long, b would go down
G Italy.
.ns apartment now?" she asked. She tried
W smile. I'm really awfully tired"
NJ YES" said Madame Marco, unenthI
y, astically.
Luigi disappeared to keep another
gagement, and Dorothy and her mot
her drove through the dripping streets ale
nd Brr, the fogl Their Journey too tn
the across the Seine and into a tangle Of
and gray houses. 1--WE are going south
a fortnight or So" said Madame Ma
or I'VE despised Paris and the north.
n are going back to Greece We
Tim take you with U.S." Dorothy smiled al
matically.
. They turned a corner u came t
pallid, SCARED facade to one side Of WI
opened an arched -passageway. 1T
erd- quite dusk when they descended. d.
= thy had noticed the street name.
mas 81 thought you lived in the Rue
tin9 Fleurs?" she said.
few I'VE did," answered the mother, I"
oosO' we changed a week ago. This way"
- led Dorothy along the damp unnel
per into a little garden where the turf
wing turned to black mud with the winter