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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, May 05, 1915, NOON EDITION, Image 19',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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"How has fate treated you?"
Grey told his story of struggle and
present trouble. The other listened
with attention and interest. He was
a fine-lookipg man and it was easy
to surmise that his old-time friend
ship for Grey had not diminished
with the years.
"Can't we sit down and talk all this
over in detail?" he questioned. "Grey,
you helped me to my first position.
Out of.it I have made a fortune. I
want to help you."
Adam Grey came home with a ra
diant face two hours earlier than
usual that afternoon. His brisk, hap
py bearing made him indeed welcome
to the loving wife and daughter, who
were aware of his business troubles.
"I want you to prepare a room for
an honored .guest," he said to his
wife, "and you, Milly, get one of
those fine suppers for which you are
"Who is it?" asked Mrs. Grey.
''My oldest, dearest boyhood
friend," explained Mr. Grey. "His
as I do! He is, Indeed, a good, true
friend. He is going to help me out of
all my business troubles."
"Oh, I am soAglad!" cried Millie,
with dancing, eyes and when the vis
itor arrived the best room in the
house and the grandest of culinary
feasts welcomed him.
Prom the first Mr. Marsh seemed
to manifest an intense interest in
Millie. He was kindly attentive to
her, he followed her with his eyes.
There was something almost affec
tionate in his behavior toward her.
"It is all arranged," Mr. Grey told
Millie one afternoon when their guest
was off on a stroll. "My good friend
has pa.id off the mortgage here and
will finance my business for a one
third interest in it. Oh, Millie! I feel
as If a load of lead has been lifted
from my heart."
"Dear, dear father!" murmured
"My dear," pursued Mr. Grey, "I
wonder if ,ypu had not an influencejnj
bringing this about? Mr. Marsh
seems to think the world of you."
Millie flushed, paled. Plainly her
father meant to imply that their
guest was in love with her. And Mil
lie thought of the young man who
had come into her life at the brook
side, and trembled.
"He" is not an old man," went on
her father. "He has done soujnuch
for me! Milly, I may be imagining
all this. If I am not, remember for
all his age he wouM be a safe, noble
husband for any woman."
"Oh, father!" gasped Millie.
"Be kind to him, Millie," urged Mr.
Grey, and left his daughter battling
with the most vivid emotions.
After that Milly" many a time tried
to evade Mr. Marsh. She felt that
duty, gratitude, might impel her for
her father's sake to sacrifice her
young life, but her soul was sad all
One evening Mr. Marsh came into
the house, showing more than usual
animation and excitement in his man-
name is John Marsh. Mary, bless him, Iner. It was a beautiful moonlight
night, and after supper he said:
"Millie, I have something to -tell
you. Won't you come and take sl
stroll with me along the brook?"
"It has come!" breathed Millie,
and she could hardly keep back her
tears, but her escort talked on of
commonplaces as they proceeded on
their walk. A poignant pain canie
into Millie's heart as they finally
halted. It was near the old gnarlra
tree, the only trysting she had ever
"Sit down and let us rest," sug
gested Mr. Marsh, and Milly dreaded
what next he might say.
"My dear," resumed Mr. Marsh, and
his manner was tender and kindly,
and he took her hand In his own. "I
wish to tell you a little story."
"Yes, Mr. Marsh," murmured Mil
lie, trembling all over.
"There was an old man whose son
went off on a junketing tour, to meet
by the merest chance, a beautiful
young lady, just like yourself, He