OCR Text |
Show Mrs. Geraldlno Banks, widow, ot Chicago and her daughter Dorothy wero at Hyo Beach. Mrs. Banks had enough monoy something like three millions to make her last namo eminently emin-ently fitting. Her father, who had made a fortune In transforming rank Chicago fat Into delicate French soap, had given her tho millions outright at her marriage with John Banks, now deceased. Father and daughter didn't see each other often in tho latter days. They moved in different social circles. Mrs. Banks had a great gray Btono palace within sound of the lashing lake waters, whllo tho father preferred to live in something little bigger than a cottage under the very shadow of tho chimneys and within smolllng range, o to sneak, of tho factory that had brought him his fortune Dorothy Bnaks was delightfully pretty, aristocratic looking withal, and as sweetly disposed toward humanity in general as a girl possibly could be whose mother was constantly reminding remind-ing her of her station In llfo and that the hol-pollol were Interesting chiefly at a distance. Mrs. Banks wished her daughter to marry, as she put it, a gentloman and a man of lineage. There came to Ityo Beach that summer sum-mer young Peabody Standlsh of Boston. He was a Harvard man and one whose ancestors' names had been borne on the rolls of that school ever since John Harvard's day. Now, Peabody Standlsh was a fine young fellow, athletic, athle-tic, handsome and with a ' manner which New England fogs and frosts had failed to chill. Peabody Standlsh and Dorothy Banks met The Boston man liked the beauty and the breezlncss of the western girl, and Dorothy, with never a thnusrht of what her mother had said about aristocracy, liked tho eastern man for himself. It is perhaps needless to say that Mrs. Banks lookod on approvingly. The young fellow from Boston lingered longer at Rye Beach that summer than he had Intended. He knew In a general way who Mrs. Banks ot Chicago was, for ho had a bit of law business wltn a Chicago client in which some of the Banks' holdings had figured. He didn't mako any inquiries. Had ho momentarily felt so Inclined a lcol: nt Dorothy would have checked him, for she was sweet and winsome enough to make up for a family skeleton In every closet of a Chicago mansion. Dorothy Banks and Peabody Standlsh Dorothy, wero engaged. Mrs. BankB and her daughter were back In Chicago and tho marriage was set for tho spring. Onco In n whllo ihrrjtigh tho winter a shadow would come Into Dorothy's face. "Mnmma," she. would say. "wo ought to hnvo told Peabody nbout grandpa. I know no's whnt you call vulgar, but he's good and klud-hcftrtd and would bo affectionate If you'd only lot him. "Your grandfather nnd Mr. Stnndish will have to meet somo day, Dorothy, but there's no particular hurry about It. Everything will bo all right If you do as I tell you." And Dorothy though secretly troubled, did what long custom had Insured her to do, to abide by what her mother suld. They were married in April. Peabody Pea-body Sttndlsh, yielding to his mother- aMMaaMMMaas Mr. Bank. In-law's request, agreed to make Chicago his home, and to look after her property interests. With Dorothy Immediately after the wedding ho went abroad and remained there eight months. When they returned to Chicago he secured an office and buckled down to business. It was Standish's second day at his work. He and Dorothy were living with Mrs. Banks. At 5 o'clock that afternoon the Banks carriage was sent to Standish's office to tako him home. Peabody would have preferred walking, walk-ing, but be took his scat In tho carriage car-riage and started homeward. At a street corner he Baw tho bent but sturdy figure of nn old man, who was plodding along with his eyes on the ground. Standlsh looked ai tho bowed flgtiro for a moment, then a pleased look came Into his oyes and he shouted a rathor peremptory "Stop" to the coachman. Standlsh Jumped from tho carrlago and In an Instant was by tho side of tho old fellow on tho sidewalk, and was grasping him by tho hand. "Mr. Chandler, Is It really you?" said Standlsh, with a ring of genuine pleasure In his voice and his oyes fairly dancing. "Well, bless me, If It ain't young Standlsh Yes, l'ts me, Jabez Chandlor, all right, but I didn't supposo you'd remember mo." "Remember you. Do you supposo I'd forget the man who camo to my father's rescuo and made It possible for me to go through college? Forgot you? I should think not.1' "Well, Mr. Standlsh, your grandfather grand-father did me a turn In tho past, when I was a boy, that I ain't forgot yet, and ain't likely to." "I looked you up as soon as I reached Chicago, Mr. Chandler, and found you wero In California." Tho old man smiled a Httlo. Standlsh beckoned to tho coachman. Tho man drove up alongside the curb and Standlsh, turning to tho old man, said: "You'ro coming home to dinner with me to-night. I won't tako no for an answor. You must meet my wife, and Standlsh fairly forced the old man Into tho carriage Jabez Chandler had a queer expression ex-pression on his face as ho mounted the steps of tho Banks mansion, arm In I'm with tho younger man. Standlsh lea aim Into the great room off tho hall. The younger man was as exuberant ex-uberant as a schoolboy. "Dorothy," ho callod, "Dorothy." Dorothy camo from n recess In a dim corner of tho room. "Dorothy, I've brought homo tho best friend. i yByyyj II barring my parents, I ever had la my J' iM life. This is Mr. Chandler, doar." n H Dorothy came forward, her face j showing white In the halt light of the ' room, nnd with a frightened look In ' her eyes. Then the look fled, she r M went forward. "Qrandpx," sho said, M and held out both hands. The old f M man kissed her quickly with somo- M thing of yearning in his eyes. ,M Thero was something stern In j, tM Standish's face. "Dorothy," ho said, i M "why did I not know this?" Dorothy turned, and the old man lBJJ quickly left the room. "You ought . M to have known, dear," sho said. "I fl don't know what to tell you. We a 1 M thought " ;! fH "I think I see It, but I don't bcllovo iM you thought It. You told me something M once of your mother's Ideas of birth 'U and education and refinement. Thank 'M (iod, Dorothy, those thing dont mako M a man forget his friends nor mako tM him ashamed of his relatives. I know M jou'ro not ashamed, dear; I think I H know nil about It," and ho kissed nor H softly. H Standlsh turned from his wlfo and H wont straight to tho room of Mrs. H Banks. Ho was there about flfteon H minutes. H That night In n box nt the opera an H old man In a business suit sat at tho H very front by the sldo ot his daughtor. H Two joung peoplo In evening dress H and looking happy, sat Just behind. A PS daughter Is a daughter, como what H will, and there was actually n sott "fl light that night In tho eyes ot Mrs. S Qeraldlne Banks, for that day her H mind had learned a lesson and nor H heart had lost a burden. Edward B. -JJH Clark In tho Chicago Record-Herald. H |