Part 26 (1/2)
”No,” interrupted Mary Louise; ”you mistake me. Jason Jones, the great artist--a splendid, cultured man and----”
A sharp rap at the door made her pause. Answering the Colonel's summons a bellboy entered.
”For Mr. Conant, sir,” he said, offering a telegram.
The lawyer tore open the envelope as the boy went out and after a glance at it exclaimed in shocked surprise: ”Great heavens!”
Then he pa.s.sed the message to Colonel Hathaway, who in turn read it and pa.s.sed it to Josie O'Gorman. Blank silence followed, while Mary Louise and Alora eyed the others expectantly.
_”Who_ did you say is outside in the corridor?” demanded Josie in a puzzled tone.
”Alora's father,” replied Mary Louise.
”Jason Jones?”
”Jason Jones,” repeated Mary Louise gravely.
”Well, then, listen to this telegram. It was sent to Mr. Peter Conant from Dorfield and says: 'Jason Jones killed by falling from an aeroplane at ten o'clock this morning. Notify his daughter.'”
Alora drew a quick breath and clasped her hands over her heart.
Uncongenial as the two had been, Jason Jones was her father--her only remaining parent--and the suddenness of his death shocked and horrified the girl. Indeed, all present were horrified, yet Mary Louise seemed to bear the news more composedly than the others--as if it were a minor incident in a great drama. She slipped an arm around her girl friend's waist and said soothingly:
”Never mind, dear. It is dreadful, I know. What an awful way to die!
And yet--and yet, Alora--it may be all for the best.”
Josie slid down from the table. Her active brain was the first to catch a glimmering of what Mary Louise meant.
”Shall I call that man in?” she asked excitedly, ”the man whom you say is Alora's father?”
”No,” answered Mary Louise. ”Let me go for him, please. I--I must tell him this strange news myself. Try to quiet yourself, Alora, and--and be prepared. I'm going to introduce to you--Jason Jones.”
She uttered the last sentence slowly and with an earnestness that bewildered all her hearers--except, perhaps, Josie O'Gorman. And then she left the room.
The little group scarcely moved or spoke.
It seemed an age to them, yet it was only a few moments, when Mary Louise came back, leading by the hand a tall, handsome gentleman who bore in every feature, in every movement, the mark of good birth, culture, and refinement, and in a voice that trembled with, nervous excitement the girl announced:
”This is Jason Jones--a California artist--the man who married Antoinette Seaver. He is Alora's father. And the other--the other----”
”Why, the other was a fraud, of course,” exclaimed Josie.
CHAPTER XXVI WHAT MARY LOUISE ACCOMPLISHED
I am quite sure it is unnecessary to relate in detail the scene that followed Mary Louise's introduction or the excited inquiries and explanations which naturally ensued. To those present the scene was intensely dramatic and never to be forgotten, but such a meeting between father and daughter is considered too sacred to be described here.
Mary Louise's intuition had not played her false. She had found at the Congress Hotel another Jason Jones, far different from the one she had known, and a few questions elicited the fact that he was indeed the father of Alora. So, as briefly as she could, she told him how another man had usurped his place and seized all of Alora's income, at the same time willfully depriving the girl of such comforts and accomplishments as one in her position should enjoy.
”And to think,” she added indignantly, ”that he is not Jason Jones at all!”
”I believe you are mistaken there,” replied the artist thoughtfully.