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Show - 1ntcrlu~c of »carl ISllb llose ant> Stiller "Fifteen years!" Madame repeated. "Allison went abroad, then, to study the violin, and the house has been open only once since. Richard carne back for a Summer, to attend to some business, then returned to Europe. How the time goes by!" The letter fell to the floor and Francesca sat dreaming over the interlude of years. Colonel Kent had been her husband's best friend, and after the pitiless sword had cleaved her life asunder, had become hers. At forty the Colonel had married a young and beautiful girl. A year later Francesca had gone to him with streaming eyes, carrying his new-born son in her arms, to tell him that his wife was dead. Drawn together by sorrow, the two had been as dear to each other as friends may be but seldom are. Though childless herself, Francesca had some of the gifts of motherhood, and, at every step, she had aided and counselled the Colonel in regard to his son, who had his mother's eyes and bore his mother's name. Discerning the boy's talent, long before his father suspected it, she had chosen the violin for him rather than the piano, and had herself urged the Colonel to take him abroad for study though the thought of separation caused her many a pang. When the two sailed away, Francesca had found her heart strangely empty; her busy hands strangely idle. But Life had taught her 1!1llelcome bome one great lesson, and when one door of her heart was closed, she opened another, as quickly as possible. So she sent for Rose, who was alone in the world, and, for f1fteen years, the two women had lived happily together. As she sat there, thinking, some of her gay courage failed her. For the moment her mask was off, and in the merciless sunlight, she looked old and worn. Rose, looking at her with tender pity, marvelled at the ignorance of man, in asking a frail little old lady to open and make habitable, in Jess than a fortnight, a house of fifteen large rooms. "Aunt Francesca," she said, "let me open the house. Tell me what you want done, and Isabel and I will see to it." "Certainly," agreed Isabel without enthusiasm. "We 'II do it." "No," Madame replied stubbornly. "He asked me to do it." "He only meant for you to direct," said Rose. "You surely don't think he meant you to do the scrubbing?" Madame smiled at that, and yielded gracefully. "There must be infinite scrubbing, after all these years. l believe I 'II superintend operations from here. Then, when it's all done, I 'II go over and welcome them home." "That is as it should be. Isabel and I will go over this afternoon, and when we come back, we can tell you all about it." 21 tmr:'llllo It |