The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1929-09-26


with the world stole over him as the
hour to retire to his room drew near.
His strength was failing rapidly,
but he had planned surprise that
he wished to announce at the tradi-
tional moment and he did not want
to make a change.
His presence held back the de-
sires of his guests. They could not
fling aside the spirit that he had
called up for the occasion and be
their modern selves while he re-
NAMED downstairs.
No one was so discourteous as to
let him suspect that he served as a
damper, and when supper time ar
rived he was convinced that his
idea had brought JOY to others as
we'll as to himself.
With the assistance of his at
PENDANTS, Marks, he took his place
at the head of the long table in the
big dining room and assumed the
dignity of host with dignity and
ease.
Helen was proud Of him, proud Of
the regal distinction that had out
lasted his age and illness, proud of
his gently aristocratic bearing. And
she, as we'll as the others, was taken
wholly by surprise when he got to
his feet and told them that he had
an important announcement to
make.
MY dear friends" he said, with
a touch of silver in his voice. Il am
grateful for your presence here to-
night as the occasion is one that
marks a very happy event in my
life" He paused and looked at
Helen.
CHE tried to smile back at him,
- but the grip of anticipation held
her immovable. What could he be
going to say? She knew intuitively
that it concerned her, whatever it
was.
You were asked" Mr. Cunning
ham went on, ito honor Miss Brent
on her 18th birthday. 1t gives me
great happiness to present her now.
not as Helen Brent, but as my dear
ly beloved granddaughter, Helen
Cunningham Nellin."
There was a silence as tense as
drawn bow, followed by a gasp that
ran the table from one guest to an
other.
Everyone turned to her as though
expecting her to answer the un-
spoken questions that rose in their
minds.
Mr.. Cunningham held out hand
and she went to stand beside him,
his arm about her shoulders.
MY daughter Evangelines child"
he said simply.
AS though his words had been a
cue to them, his guests broke into
an excited but subdued chatter.
Mr.. Cunningham bent his head
and kissed Helen very gently. Her
eyes filled suddenly with tears.
Thank you" she said in a choked
whisper. Then she turned her head
to look down the table where Brent
sat.
There was upon his face an eX-
preston that she could not gauge,
perhaps because he was desperately
trying to conceal his elation and
keep his expression inscrutable.
He had not guessed Mr.. Cunning
hams decision to accept Helen as
his granddaughter and heiress to
his fortune. It came to him as
great surprise as it was to her.
He did not go to her at once, but
her eyes constantly sought his and
he knew that she was waiting for
him to tell her what this latest de-
velopment would mean to them.
Would he leave her now, go away
and forget her, thinking his duty
done?
Duty. Helen hated the word.
She wanted love. And Leno did not
love her, she was certain Of it. His
continued attitude Of sorrowful re-
nunciation proved it.
And wouldn't he give her up al
together now that he knew her fate
was sealed and she must remain
with her grandfather? The thought
brought anguish to her.
n
CHE as deaf to the remarks of
- the people who crowded about
her, offering their congratulations
and fluctuations. She scarcely
heard Mr.. Cunningham's meager ex-
PLANTATION of her history.
But when Eva came to her and,
putting her arms about her, said:
I'm so glad, for your sake" she
wanted to cry out that there was
H,a~