The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 4, 1903, Page 6

] It was indeed true heartbroken. No other be as handsome, as as her Flavian now ght of her sorrow 1 no thought but of with his name on Her lable. e was r could kind in th She be »0 Lhere was Zepherine, the daugh- As for her of Flavian, to be looked after. She e hands of Providence in a very e. This was not her view alone; belief of the good Siste d Heart. She was what is tt the ile de noel—a child of Christm being the day on which she w She grew with the growing vea ppy with the rest. She had emories of her father and his The melod he had called rful ill* fresh in art of her dally stiil linger- stories he mother and many a little white n the gar m and j her ere her was well. Ma time cross den of well, at the proper 1d tak that the ot fath God wo h her wh ad not e slightest dou l‘,"!)'ki when th come she 1d be pr ¢ the guiding So the went on until at last, istmas it semed to Zepherine kon- obey this unseen hand was be made haste tc o ed that Mr. cannot have the t of this story in He used to tell a color- and he re and e gave it his own, )id any i a Christmas the woods?” you ever hea Johne r Christmas he would rub his chin the most princt ver was no sech per- u ske that r big 1 , red chimb.eys? it an "s rockin' mfortubble, censiderin’ . all ywhs an’ drawbacks she's tc The person whose curs e to respond to such a sharp fillip as that is certainly to be pitied first and foremost, there was in 1559, was mistre: f Shady Dale. As age upon him, Matthew Clop: ally surrendered the man- his domain into the hanc who had early level- bilities of the ;rarest daughter had never married \er young womanhood had the rearing of her nephew, ne, and to this task she art of her time t share of her affec- Sarah Clopton still pre- of the beauty of her ma mature, an alm her face that gave an ersation for and most needed There’ are moments women are thrown e longe nionship. pusiest of back upon themselves—intervals when their natures demand communication with some thoroughly congenial person. This was eminently true of Sarah Clopton. Francis Bethune had ‘arrived-at/an age w.ben he could be depended upon to take cygre of himself,"and’ it* was not' to be sup- posed that he would continue to hang to the apron-strings of his aunt. . . “FLAVION DIloN TVAS THE- ARTIST BORM, HAVING Tue GIFT FROXM Besides Francis Bethune, Eilsie Clopton, the there young _widow was of Sarah’s brother, McGilllvary Clopton; but- there were streaks of frivolity and folly in the character of Elsie that the elder woman found unbearable. A widow with the airs, ways and romantic notions of a schoolgirl -is not the most attractive per- son in the world. The young widow had ~ some attractive qualities, but none that so far offset her siliy romancing as to com- mend her to Sarah Clopton's intimate friendshin. ‘Then there were Dr. Randolph Dorring- tori and his daughter Nan. Both of these were indeed the objects of Sarah Clopton's affectionate appreciation. but they were what they were: One a practicing phy- sictan,.bugy sometimes day and night, tae other the most deliclous and surprising little girl In the world—and not so small, (elther, “when ;vou- came- to.think about it, but bubbling over with the high spirits of Juyous and innocent youth, , Moved, therefore, by an impulse which she could not have explained if she had tried, Sarah Clopton caused an advertise. ment to be inserted in the Malvern Re- scorder. This notice. was worded to the following effect: WANTED-—By a middle-aged lady of means, a companion. A youns woman of educat and refinement, and posseszed of some musi- cal accomplishments preferred. The posit.on will. not be a servile one. Applicant should come weil recommended. To this were added the necessary detalls covering the address. A few days after the notice appeared in * the: Malvern newspaper Father Martin, who had charge of the small Catholic community in that city, gave entertain- ment to a missionary priest who was on his way to Canada from New Orleans. To the care of his guest Father Martin in- trusted a trifiing souvenir, to be delivered to the Mother Superior of the Convent of the Sacred Heart at St. Hyacinthe. At this convent Father Martin's only sister had died while attending the school. ‘Whatever the token miay have been, he wrapped it In a copy of the Malvern Re- corder, tied the bundle neatly and saw that this guest placed it ely in his traveling satchel. This" particular copy of the Recorder contained Sarah Clop- ton's advertisement. The souvenir reached s Gy L, MLIRT o i its destination in Que time ana was re- celved with plous appreciation. Then, when the Mother Superior was finding a place for it where it would remind her of the sender and especially of the youns girl, dead long ago, one of the sisters, moved by curfosity, smoothed the wrinkles and creases of the wrapper and almost the first thing on which her eyes fell was the advertisement of Sarah Clop- ton. She calied to Zepherine Dion, and, for brevity’'s sake, turned the matter rapldly into French, though Zepherine could read and write English fairly well. “It is on the way to New Orleans, the sister suggested. Now this was In- tended as a piece of pleasantry, all the sisters knowing of Zepherine's expressed purpose to go in search of her father when the opportune mo:ment should ar- rive. To the surprise of the sister, and, indeed, of all, Zepherine took the sugges- tion serious “But yes, my sister,” she with gentle gravity, “it is true. the way thers. Do I go by vice?” “Silly child!"” the sister ecried, taken aback. “You will do nothing of the kind. you take me too serfously. Zepherine shook her head solemnly. “No, my sister, to-day I am 18. I have finished here. Now I must find my dear father. He is there.” She waved her hand toward the south. “Oh, folly, folly!” cried the sister, alarmed at the serious attitude of the girlk “You know not where your father is—ihq poor man. Perhaps the good God remarked It is on your ad- “ has taken him; you know not.” “But I feel that he is there, my sister,” Zepherine persisted. “Hourly I pray te be set right; but it !s always the same. I have the strong feeling that he is thers waiting for me, my sister.” “But will you have reason, silly child?” cried the sister. “It is reasonable, my sister, to have the strong desire to find my dear father,” re- plied Zepherine. At any rate it seemed reasonable to the girl, and as she was to go away from the convent and out into the world in any event the Mother Superior decided to take the maticr into her own hands. So she wrote to Father Martin at Malvern, mak- ing such inquirles as the nature of the case and her strong interest in the girl called for. Father Martin knew the Clop- tons well, and he lost no time in placing in the Mother Superior's hands such in- formation as Wi alculated to set her mind at rest. So at last, after consider- able correspondence, the matter was ar- rznged definitely, and the young girl came south to begin, as she thought, the search for her father. It was the beginning of summer when Zepherine reached Shady Dale. As for Zepherire, she felt she was taking a long step in the direction of her father, and there was never a moment when she re- gretted It save during the last hour of her journey, when depression seized her, sorts of doubts and fears and grim forebodings took possesion of her mind. But, after all, matters fell out very well. Who could have dreamed that 8arah Clopton would take the girl in her arms at the first moment of their meet- ing? The little French Canadienne, shy as a wood blossom, very quickly made a place for herself in the hearts of those who came to know her well. She was timid 2nd sensitive to a degree, and yet had a certain form of pride that stood her in g0od stead. For one thing, this pride com- pelled her to learn English very rapidly; and there was a certain daintiness in her way of speaking the difficult tongue that tickled Billy Sanders immensely. “Be jlgged ef she don't know the dic- tionary by heart!” he declared on one occasion. “She’s like the gal in the can- dy-store that guésses what you want by the way your mouth dribbles. This French girl picks out the prettiest words you ever heard in all your born days.” And there was a good deal of truth in what Mr. Sanders said. and he was partly responsibie for it. With no particular knowledge of literary English, Mr. Sand- ers, nevertheless, had a very keen ear for the vernacular, and a broad smile used to spread over his benevolent count- enance when Zepherine tripped in her English. There were times when she thought she hated Mr. Sanders, but his smiles spurred her on until she came to handle the vernacular muc correct- ly than any of her acquaintances—but always with a quaint accent, which Nan RDorrington thought the most beautiful sound her ears had ever heard. _Mjr. Sanders used to contend that he h&d but thre® weaknesses—N3s Zepher- in€ and John Barleycorn. Nan, who was only thirteen, spent more than two-thirds of he? waking thoughts in the land of romance. To her Zepherine was a beau- tiful girl who was e ctim of some maliclous fairy. She would find her father, and then the spell would be broken. If she didn’t become a princess, she would at lea marry some hand- some young man, and be happy forever after. As for Mr. Sanders, Nan regarded him as a man who could work magic. If he had turned into beautiful prince right before her eyes, she would not have been in the least surprised. She knew per- fectly well that he could find Zepherine's father. or tell her how to find him, when- ever he thought ihe proper time had come. Such was her confidence in the powers of Mr. Sa.ders that she used to say to him wheun they were to- gether; “Don’t let's find M : father too soon; she might go awa Mr. Sanders always humored Nan's romances. When Ler mischievousness became unendurable, Mr. Sanders had a way of making a very demure young woman of the child. “Don't he such a rowdy, Nan,” he would say “Frank Bethune owes you a whippin’, an' I'l} make him pay you off ef you don't be- have.” The mention of Bethune's name always had a sobering effect on Nan. The two were supposed to be sworn enemles, and were not even on speaking terms. After the advent of Zepherine, the old Clopton homestead no longer had an emp- ty appearance. Nan came every day, and in fact spent more than half of her time there. Mr. Sanders took a great fancy to the stranger from the first. Often the old man would draw her gently toward him, as she had seen him draw Nan, and say “I'll be your pappy, honey, till you find a better one.” She knew from the kindly light in the clear and honest blue eyes that looked into hers that Mr. Sanders had pledged to her both his friendship and his protection. But, after Sarah Clopton, the dearest friend that Zepher- ine found In her new surroundings was Nan Dorrington. Versing on to fourteen, Nan was still a child. It could be cold sald that she was no beauty; yet she was lovely in her artlessness and stmplicity, and was as graceful as some wild thing fresh from the woods or fields. Her face glowed with health and high spirits, and was full of intlmations of mischief. As tricksy as Arlel, her hoyden ways rhymed true to mirth and innocence. Nan was not always hot-foot in pur- suft of fun and mischief. No, indeed! There were long hours when she would sit and watch Zepherine at her 'broidery work. And at such times it would have been a wonder if Sarah Clopton and Mr. Sanders were not also engaged in watch- ing the deft fingers weaving the figures. On one occasion, when Mr. Sanders watching the fairy-llke work, Zepherine raised her eyes and cried: “Oh, they have changed my name! I think it is too bad.” Nan, who was also sitting near, smiled faintly as she caught the e of Mr. San- ders. “Yes,” she replied; “your name is Miss Johns, I think it very pretty—[ called vou Miss Johns from the first. *‘But Johns' s not Dion: I think it is cruel,” protested Zepherine. “How will my dear father know me as Miss Johns?" “Well, I'll-tell you, honey,” said Mr. Sanders, “the way you pronounce the two names makes ‘em sound jest like they was twins.” Zepherine hardly knew whether to laugh or cry, and before she could make up her mind to do either Sarab Clopton, who had heard a part of the conversation, remarked that Mr. Sanders had a very bad habit of changing names and she re. MDD EHIS POO®R “wi1eE TOILING It3 THE FIELDS Y minded him of the havoc he had playea with the family name of poar oid Peter Valicombe. 'Weil, to my n@nd, Sarah, I holp him out'n a mighty big difficulty.” But It was plain that he had little relish for the subject. The reference toGthe matter, however, kindled the curiosity of both Zepherine 2rd Nan, and they insisted on knowing all the facts In the case. Mr. Sand srose, cleared his throat and sald he be- lleved he would go out-and ses which way the wind was blowing. Nan jumped up and caught him and made him sit down again and he proceeded to tell them how the family name of poor Peter Valicombe had been so° changed that nome of the friends of his youth would know him if they should meet him in the road. In 1558 Mr. Valicombe was the only shoemaker in Harmony Grove, the little tewn to which Shady Dale lies adjacent; in 1370 he was the proprietor of a shoe and leather store there; and yet Mr. San- ders could hava said of him, as he fre- quently sald of M Johns, that there was never any such person in Harmony Grove. The explanation is very simpl When Mr. Valicombe went to Harmon Grove, In 1858, the small tin sign tha hung over the door of his modest bore this ription: “Plerre Bienve: Boot and Shoe Maker.” The name, with its alien tang, attracted the attention Mr. Sanders began to ply Forthwith t went ly first you exc very his lay the shoema the sm a r remarked the Georgt: introde y wa tion. “Some folks oder's me g so far to_call me Billy.” “Oh, yes! Blllee—me, 1 have some fr name Billee.| I like it if I make some shoes name. Mr. Sanders smiled leniently. “We when I take a notion fof to have my name shod, be jigged ef I don’t give y the job,” he ared; “an’ whilsc y fixin' to do ybe you'll up an’ te me what your name mought be. I seed Itont we ain't lv e I ca * The thar. but an’ the call ras persister ? Me Bienv Pierre Bienvenue “Youw'll out of the bog at tnat gate Give it to me his head with the point of his awl, and re- flected. Final he made reply. whether he answered “Peter Velooom' ol *“Vaflcoom,” makes little differer:ce. What he tried to say was “Peter Welcome,”” but Mr. Sanders did understand it that way; and when b issued for from the shop he carried in his mind the name— alicombe—by which the shoemaker anc s were to be known In t the most i so far Now, recital, New Orlear r yes, indeed, it was Important—to » that there was some one close at hand who had been in the same city with father, ‘and had probably met him, or pabsed him on the street. This was - thing—oh, a great deal-a fortunate Nan thought so, too Sarah Clopton w not enthusiastic, but she ‘said nothine to cast the cloud of doubt ove rine’s hopes. As for Mr. Saniers, ¢ the e expressed it, re dred. it was a migh In fine, Mr pe that Peter Vall- give her valuabis Information of some sort. Nevertheless, Nan Dorrington wase more eathusiastic thap all%f them put together. She was perfeetly e that Mr. tell Zepherine something abuat her father: and why not go to see him at m:c-' n had a pair of shoes that need ed new soles, and she'd have them' fixed without delay. The case became very urgent would satisf but an immediate he to the shop r. Valicombe, course Zepherife must acco: When this was all settled sald he'd go along to.keep Nan straight and to ent her from begging clerks In the stores for candy e trio went to Mr. Vallcor shop, and he was not there: his prosperity had reached such a point that he was able to em 3 r two, and at this parti n a visit to his old h s. But he wouid soc not to-morrow certainly the next ¢ : Zephert n was really a > - marked that.it was very lucky that Peter had taken a n n to go back he: n a visit. Tt might be, he said, that he woulyg be able to Miss Johns the v test Intc bout her prppy the next Nan made i watch the old stage. rom Malve third oted tha' Mr. Valfcombe arrived being the only passeiger He 1 ighted at the tavern than 1pon him. and blitheiy informed him taat had been trying No: she wouldn’t was a Young lady rear I young lady ) make his acquaintance, tell who it was, but ic who spoke French, and who intended to ask Mr. Valicombe a very important question, and he must be surs to give her a favorable answer. The next day. when Zepherine . called to see Mr. Vailcombe they meen told that he was ill in bed and could see no one. A few days afterward, Nan hav- ing failed to put in an appearance, word came to Shady Dale that she, too, was fi .l;ndnl‘hls news was immediately followe Y e announcement that smallpox! i b (To be continued.)