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Tuesday, December 9, 1974. 1‘ t WIFE a S! f! Kathleen ■ ^ ~ Vi' v) : I . * Norris 'i Illustration* by |r% hi Irwin Mitjer/ / I,.: | \ I I-. 0 /, ojy vight /i by Kathleen. Non-U to losing O'tm. sue fpl* a Con tempt for the weakness In herself that had permitted her to risk the love of the m nn she really desired for the old ndmfrer who hnd Inst, by contrast with the new. any power to stir her. Rut Lillian could not fhinkeihat Gibbs would not return to her. He was hurt, he was sore and angry now. hut she hnd still, ns a weapon, thplr dangerous nroolnoulty. and she had still the disturbing and annealing beautv he had found irresistible. So Lillian played her game safe ly, nnd bided her time. Thls storm would blow other 4 over, as storms had. She would need only a little patience, she would need caution. Patience and watchfulness were among Lillian’s virtues. But Gibbs knew that It was all over. He had made a fool of him self, for her. he had told himself *' that it was only a pretty and excit ing game. He had lived in the light of those dark and magnificent eyes, he had thrilled to touch her smooth, warm hand. That he had never actually been false to Ellen was of small com fort to him now. The house of cards had fallen about him through no heroic measure of his own. He had placed himself in an undigni fied. in a ridiculous position, he had let her deceive him with the rest. And with the revelation that she had, from sheer good-natured lazi ness. placed herself under Lindsay Pepper’s roof for the night, and with the bitter thought that Lind say's coarse devotion meant quite ns much to her insatiable appetite for admiration as did his own ex quisitely expressed friendship, Gibbs’ wakening had come. He could not bear to look at her now, to speak to her. He fell into a mood of angry silence; his fa ther’s attitude of watchfulness, Ellen’s voiceless question and re proach, and Lillian’s tireless ef forts to re-establish the old order of things, alike inNiriated him. CHAPTER X A S armful ELLEN of roses, came the In big with clock an In the hall began to chime in a leisurely maimer, arid, glancing at it, she saw that it was twelve o’clock. Long afterward Ellen Josselyn thought af that moment, and of the events that ivfould stamp themselves on her heart and brain before the clock chimed for an other noonday. But at the time she only reflected that luncheon was in half an hour, and she was muddy and disheveled; she would put the roses In the study, and fly upstairs to brush and change. Very often she carried flowers Into th# study; the maids were not allowed to enter the room, and the old man liked to find traces of his daugh ter-in-law’s affection waiting there. Only Lizzie was in the study. She was standing, pale nnd staring, by the table, facing the door. She gave a little cry, helpless and for lorn, as Ellen enme In. Ellen’s eyes 'flashed to her limp fingers, which lay about the beautiful shining body of a revolver on the table. Before the little cry, half-protest and half-whine, had died nway, Ellen hnd sprung at her, wrenched the terrible thing free, and flung it back into its place in the drawer, pushed her own body against the drawer to close it. and caught Lizzie by the shoulders, forcing the girl to face her. While they stood there, panting, the shadow of death lifted itself slowly from the room. The fire crackled, the sunlight, pouring through green bottle-ends, fell peacefully upon the soft tones of rugs and leather chairs. .* Lizzie—my child 1” Ellen said. In a sharp whisper. “What were A I -Llaals—My Chlld’f* Ellen Said, In s Sharp Whisper. "What Wsre You Doino? What Wars You Go ing to Do?” you doing? Wliot were you going to do?” No need to answer. .Lizzie tempted none. She hung" ner head; her breath came in childish dry sobs. Ellen’s thoughts raced. There was only one explanatipn of this: Lizzie was “in trouble.” Ellen had noticed tear-stains about the pretty eyes more than once. She remem bered now that Lizzie’s mother, a village woman, had come all the way to Wheatley Hills one day, in a mysterious plumber’s delivery van, to hold a but violent conversa tion with the girl, who had cried bitterly. Aftenyard, she had ex plained to Ellen that mil wanted her to get married, and Ellen had wisely observed that she was right not to take this step until she felt ready for It. „v___________— So that was it. This gentle, conscientious little woman bad been carrying that burden in her heart. Ellen made the girl sit down on the great seat by the fire, and sat down herself beside her. She kept one kindly hand on Lizzie’s slioul der, and fixed anxious eyes upon the tear-wet, sullen face. The older woman still felt herself to he frightened and shaken, but her tone was as quiet as she could ma “Lizzie—my ^ e !t - dear! , That was a wicked thing to do. Can’t you tell me about it? You know Tommy loves^you me ” and I love you. Tell The tone entirely melted poor Lizzie, whose breast began to heave painfully. Ellen thrust hev handkerchief info the girl’s hand, and Lizzie sobbed unrebuked, wrenching her whole . body in her grief, and making stifled sounds like a person strangling. “It’s about that man your moth er wanted you to marry?” Ellen suggested, after awhile, her arm still about Lizzie’s shoulders. Tne gtrl nodded -without, looking up. ,f And, Lizzie, should you marry him?” Ellen ventured. “1 love hini!” Lizzie answered. In a choked and angry voice, after a shamed pause. “You love him— Yon poor child! And he wants to marry yon?” writhed “H$ says he will, Lizzie had about so that her back was almost turned to Ellen, who had to bend forward to catch a glimpse of the flushed face and Inflamed “eyes. “And don’t you think yon would he ly,- happier?” “don't Ellen think pursued wookl sweet you you be happier, If he loves you, and you—" “He don’t love me,” Lizzie Inter rupted sullenly. “But you said—” “I said he’d marry me !" The blood came to Elles’s face, and she sat back, feeling a little sick. She had read of the old tragedy a thousand times, but how much more poignant was this first encounter with it, this sickening realization of what it meant to the woman to sue! She had loved, and she had given, and now It was his royal prerogative to lift her up, and make her “honest,” or to drive her to self-murder. Ah, life was hard enough for * the Ellens, who keep a man's respeef, but lose his love. But for the Lizzies—! “Lizzie,” she asked timidly. “Are you—you’re not—?” Lizzie hnd dried her swollen eyes, and their misery was turned toward Ellen. “No, ma’am," she nnswered, with returning self-control, "if there was a baby coming. I'd marry him tomorrow. But he—he’s a good man, Mrs. Josselyn. nnd he’d never he anything but shamed and kept down by a girl like me. And we done what we done like children might do something wrong,” poor Lizzie added, with her eyes brim ming again, “nnd all the time he was In love with another lady—I knew he was. but he didn’t know himself how he hnd come to think about her—and so when we—when we sald we wouldn’t-see each other no more, I thought that It was all over and done with—except for the way I felt. But—but m'a guessed it, and she was awful mean to me." the girl said simply, “and nothing ever seemed right again. I didn't want to go with any of the other boys, and I kep' feeling what if I should marry some day, and have a little girl—" She began to cry again softly. Ellen, whose face had grown ashen, sat staring at her blindly. Her heart was pounding; her brain in a whirl. She had heard these terms before—Lizzie hnd keen Aunt Elsie’s maid through an Ill ness last winter— “When was this, Lizzie?” she asked, clearing her throat. Last winter, Mrs, Josselyn.” Look at me," Ellen said, after a pause. “Look at me. Lizzie. Wns it Joe? Wns it Mr. Latimer?” She saw the answer In Lizzie’s eyes before the girl said quickly: “No, ma’am! Ob, no, ma'am!" Ellen could smile sadly as she shook her head. “He told me about It, Lizzie. He told me all about It, but he didn’t say It was you. I’m so sorry. I’m so desperately sorry. You—you do love him?’’ “Oh. my G—d, how could I help It?" the girl answered, with sud den violence. “I had never worked before, Mrs. Josselyn, and at home It was trouble—trouble—trouble! My father drinks and my sister's husband drinks—I’ve seen him hit her a few flay* before ter children wme! aho your aunt urns we good to me, and the captain treated me like I was his granddaughter, and everything ‘ was so pleasant and warm. And Joe always anxious for me to get enough to eat, and help ing me with kindling and all, and one night tying up my finger where I‘d cut if, and sometimes he'd kiss me, you know, and tell me I looked nice! And then one night he wasn’t coming home, and the captain want ed some thhacco, and I run np street for it, after supper, and when 5 come hack my feet were alt sop ping, and after I'd undressed, I come down ip a wrapper, to get warm —* Ellen could see the old Main street house. Her eyes were shin ing. i( I’ve ■done that a thousand times!” she said, half-aloud. “And .Toe come In," pursued Lizzie, “it was after nine, but he hadn’t had his supper. And him find me went out and got something to eat—” Her voice fell. Ellen did not speak. I He's going to marry Miss Lath rop,” Lizzie said presently. “But that can’t stop me loving him, and remembering how he’d laugh when he was building the breakfnst fire —and how I felt about him! I thought then we might get married, although I always knew it wouldn’t be right for Joe—and she’s rich, and all that, and—and of course he loves her— She stopped speaking, staring drenrily ahead of her. Ellen was silent, too. But she kept oiie warm, friendly little hand tight over Lizzie’s hand, and in her troubled face there was no hint of reproach. “You say he loves her,” she said, thoughtfully, after awhile. “I think lie does, too, in a way. But he has been most unhappy about this, Lizzie ;i’ve seen it, only! didn’t understand. He has been worried and uncertain—we’ve all been won dering what was on his mind. And I didn’t understand. I thought It ! was some reckless girl—I suppose i It’s always this way. Only I never i thought of you, Lizzie, so quiet and ‘ good and unselfish—no, don’t begin , to cry again. I didn’t mean that j j myself—" unkindly. 1 blame myself—I blame ’ Thus I Ellen, reaching for some guiding principle through all these ! mazes, I “Well 1 Some one win come in j and find us here,” she said with : sudden decision. “Go upstairs and i bathe your eyes, Lizzie, and get s Tommy ready for lunch. And don't j j out!!’ worry. I’m going to thlAk it all Comforted, the giri escaped, and Ellen ate her l unch in thoughtful j mood, arid afterward walked with Tommy to the station a mite away. She said nothing to any one $t the house, but when they were on the road she told Tommy that they were going to meet Uncle .foe. “How ‘Y know he was cornin’?” Tommy demanded. “I telephoned him, dear.” Ellen was excited; she trotted Tom’s small legs along in spirited fashion. Joe descended from the train, com plimented them upon their cheeks. “Of course you don’t understand,” Ellen echoed his greeting as she kissed Mm. “But I’ll explain, Joe. I didn’t bring the car, because I want to talk bo you by myself. Trot ahead there, Tom. It’s about Llzzto, Joe.” His honest, kind eyes flew to hers consciously. t “She told you?” Joe. “She"*xnte s going to kill herself, He walked alorig at her side for ten paces without speaking. “My G—d—my G—d!” he said then, under his breath. And, after another silence, he said, suddenly and firmly: “I’m sorry, Ellen. I know how you and Gibbs will feel. But I can’t stand It any longer. Perhaps other men can do It: I can’t. I’m going away—get a job somewhere—and she’s going with me. It’s the only way, for me. She’s a better woman than 1 am a man, because she gave herself where she loved. P thought I’d cut everything, and get nut for awhile, but now I see that this is the way out. I’ll go and Til take Lizzie. We’ll go now. I’ll make It up to Lizzie, somehow!” Oh, Joe, I love you?" Ellen said, tears and laughter in her voice. “I think that’s the only way out! I know that you’ll he glad some day.” Half an hour later she sent Lizzie out to the gate on some pre text, and Lizzie did not come back for almost two hours. When .she did come, Ellen was playing with Tommy, and Tommy’s stone blocks, on the nursery table. “Mrs. Josselyn,” Lizzie said, com ing close to her, and laying one hand on Ellen's arm, “I hope God will make up to you what you done for me. I don’t deserve you should, treat me like this—hut I'll never forget It! Mrs. Josselyn, we’ve been talking—and he's Just gone down to get the four o’clock train— and he says we are to be married. And if God helps me—if God helps me—rii maket him the best wife— I” And Lizzie, turning her back sud denly, began to cry again. But Ellen knew that these were tears of Joy. Her own mood was the more sober of the two as she went slowly to her own room. “The right thing Is not always the easy thing, M she mused apprehensively. Now she must face Gibbs with tills extraordinary news. And Gibbs, intolerant of Joe always, would find In this a complete con firmation of hls poor opinion of the younger man. George Lathrnp’g dearest dream shattered, Harriet and a fortune flung aside, and Joe nnd a village girl, ungrammatical and unlettered, off to be married; the summary was disheartening In deed. , And yet under all her un easiness, Ellen’s heart was sing ing with the Joy of a decision wisely made, and a hard step bravely taken. She left Lizzie tremulously smil ing, and building Tommy such a tower as never had gladdened hls eyes before, and went downstairs to the study. Her father-in-law wag alone there, dreaming over a fire and a book, and smiled as she came in. Lillian had gone off with Mabel Poindexter tor dinner, he explained, and would be there all night Ellen, seating herself, seemed to feel a certain lightening In the atmosphere with Lillian's de oarture. prest— Mv Gibbs came In. (TO BE CONTINUED.) GRIFFIN DAILY NEWS Our Daily Story * The Dainty Sub-Tenant By AUGUSTUS SHERWIN “We nuist cut expenses nt every point" spoke Gerald Wayne. “The same program,must be followed out at the works. -Let the new condi tions commence at once. i Very well, sir,” bowed Addison Woods, his office manager. Wayne had left everytWng Wood* In a managerial way to trusting reiinntly to him. Where was the leak? The hooks were amazingly correct. The works ware ur.der competent management, yet tjiere wns a deficit In profit. So one morning Wayne started out to put in operation a new sys tem of economy. Addison Woods smiled covertly after his departure. “I hare cut office expenses 40 per cent, Mr. Wayne," he announced. “By the way, too, I have sublet the rear office. It wns not much use except ns a storeroom.” "Very good” commented Wayne, and lie p>„« r. casual glance In at a dainty, Industrious figure bent over a neat (aide covered with pens, colored inks’ and brushes. “Who is she?” he inquired, might ily attracted by the sweet face. “A Miss Eleanor Wharton. Works for a fashionable, stationer, I be lieve. Fills in wedding cards nnd decorates." m A month went by nnd late one afternoon Wayne, passing the door of the rear room, was arrested by the echo of a faint sob. He stepped over the threshold to find Miss Wharton with her face buried In her-bands,—------ —-c “Vou seem troubled." he said. “I—I have been greatly disap pointed,” fluttered the young girl, “I am afraid I shall have to give up the office, sir." “Why, ho\v Is that?" inquired Wayne. “Tlie business house I have been working for has failed. I can read Uv make a new connection, but I could not nay the rent here until well on in the month. I “Bless me!” cried Wayne cheer ily, “we always give thirty days' credit to the trade, why not to you’ Rest easy, Miss Wharton and if you wish to anticipate later returns Just speak to our cashier.” Two days later she came to him with happy, beaming face. “Just think of it!” she said buoyantly. "I have made a new business connection with so much work to do that I can employ all my evenings, if I choose. Can 1 remain here after closing time If 1 pay for the lights?” Of course there was no objection. Miss Wharton paid up all arrears with sparkling, thankful eyes. One evening Wayne Insisted on her tak ing a respite from her hard work for a spin In his automobile. And one evening—he never for got It—he was seated in his room a mile away from the office, when the telephone called with a noisy jangle. “Mr. Wayne?”—the tones wera breathless. “Yes—who is this?" “Your office—Miss Wharton." “Yes “Com*, oh! come at once. Do not lose a precious second!” “What is itr asked Wayne In startled wonderment. “I have done a dreadful thing! It was for your sake—oh I hurry! hurry!” Wayne reached the building In which hls office was located. He rushed up the stairs. Tottering through the doorway of the new subtenant’s apartments there showed the subtenant herself. “Quick, quick!” she gasped, point ing a terrified finger at the closed door of the big steel vault—“there! there 1" She sank to a chair overcome, ■well nigh at the point of fainting away. What do you mean?” Inquired Wayne. “In the vault. I shut them tn. Two men—your manager and his friend. I had to. I turned the eomblna tion—’’ Amazed, thrilled, Wayne ran to ward the vault. He turned the com bination, went inside and in turn carried the two men in succession from the stifling air of the vault— Woods, his manager, and hls friend, both unconscious. “Quick—the phone! These men are almost overcome. Call a doc tor. No, the police," said Eleanor regaining her composure In a meas ure, and then a$ the men slightly moved she faltered out her tragic story, - It appeared that Woods and his confederate had been systematical ly swindling the house through lading oyershlpments, and fraudulent hilia altered checks. They were about to flee. Eleanor heard Woods say Ids bank book, securi ties and safety deposit key were In his box In the vault. “I thought of you,” she faltered to Gerald. “I shut them In the vault” Restitution was sternly demand ed by Gerald when Woods recor ered consciousness. The villain and his accomplice left the office free to go where they would, but despoiled of their stealings. “It seems I needed a guardian and found one In you,” spoke Gerald tenderly, as he and Eleanor stood alone in the office after the depar ture of the others. “Will you con tinue in that capacity and—as my wife?" he asked boldly. She could net say hl*n nay—they were so suited to one another—and they left the office arm linked In arm, heart linked to heart. (®. 1»H, Weatsrn Nswapspsr Union.) CORRECT. Son: What is a counter irri tant? Father: A clerk who tries to tell you what you don’t want, IN BAD. , Betty: The first time he kissed her she called for help. Witty: I think he still needs it. Prettiest Woman In Army Circles Judge Advocate’s Wife Called : - * . :■> f • v ■m} X ■ Wm X ■y-m W: ■ •x :$■ j*S ■ •xj ■ : y '-. >:. * » f'/y M s < 'J A s * Ua •\ v A Mrs. John A. Hull, above, wife of Col. Hull, the new advocate general of the U. S. army, is being universally spoken as the most beautiful woman in army circles. * The Hulls arrived Washington recently.^ Mrs. Hull is expected to be one of the ing hostesses at the capital this winter. Columbus. Dec. 9.—Columbus’ bobbed haired “mystery woman, •t who by her strange conduct has baffled local authorities since she was found on the streets Novem ber 8, hatlcss and shoeless and with a Bible in her lap, has posi tively been identified as Miss Mary Smith, 37, of Dansville, N. Y., according to police. The girl’s identity was estab lished by communication with relatives, whose names she fur nished police. To Her Home. A telegram was received here today announcing that a brother in-law is en route to Columbus to take her back home. In a recent statement the mys tery girl at a local hospital told of having worked until Octobe^ 20 in an Elmyra, N. Y., hotel. Several days she suffered from a severe headache and she said she has no recoilection of happen ings after October 23, when she -was still in Eimyra. Her mem ory was restored at the local in stitution about a week ago, she says. Numb With Cold. When found on the streets here a month ago by police, the girl was almost numb with cold. After an examination, she was sent to the hospital;..................... For days hospital attaches forc ed her to take nourishment through tubes. Then she began eating of her own accord, and since that time has improved. The patient baffled attaches many days by her refusal to talk. TO THE POINT. A Scottish farmer, being elect ed to the school board, visited the village school and tested the in telligence of the class by the question: Now, boys, can any of you tell me what naetbing is? If After a moment’s silence a small boy in the back seat rose. u It’s what ye gi’d me the other day for holding yer horse. PRELIMINARY. n Where's Bill going with the car ?*> : « To a matinee. *» *4 But there’s no matinee till tomorrow,’’. i ■ He’s got to find a place to park, hasn’t he?" KITCHEN CUPBOi By NELLIE MAXWELL »*’>***+*****♦♦♦+♦**♦♦♦♦♦ Old Kentucky Diahea ' T try HE are pies different of the Blue fro® Grass the North- coun ern-richer hut most tasty. Bisque Pie—Cook together a pint of milk, one-half cupful of granu lated sugar, the yolks of five to a rich custard, add « tables - aj ful of cornstarch, moistened with hi) - little of the cold milk and cook ua- \ til thick; then add half a dozen macaroons. crushed, one-fourth pound of candied cherries, chopped, the same of candled pineapple, with one-fourth teaspoonful of almond, extract and one-half teaspoonful of vanilla. The filling Is poured Into two baked shells and toppdl with a meringue made of the egg white* » beaten stiff with ten tablespoonfuls mafe* of sugar, two or three crushed nroons and vanilla and almond flav oring, Brown In a moderate oven. Serve cold. Cream Davoli.—Take one larger cooked chicken. Cut the meat from It and grind fine, adding one-fourth pound of lean ham also ground, crumbs from n small loaf of bread soaked in the broth In which the chicken was cooked, squeezed dry. Mix the meat and crumbs, then add a teaspoonful of white tablespoonfula pepper, a dash of cayenne, two of grated onion, a grating of nnt* meg, a sprinkle of mace, two well* beaten eggs and enough sweet cream to make the mixture Into a loaf.. Press into a greased mold d steam three hours. Turn out; serve with: Mushroom Sauce.—Use a pint «t thin cream, two tdbiespoonfuJs (ffach of butter and flour, with salt and pepper to taste. Simmer and cook until thick, then add a can of mush rooms or Its equivalent In fresh mushrooms which have been cut In to bits und cooked in butter fiv* minutes. Banana Croquettes.—Remove fha skins from bananas, cut into halved crosswise and remove the veins. Dip into crumbs, egg and crumb again and fry in deep fat. Served with a lemon sauce they make a dainty dessert. (®. 1SJ4, Western Bewepeoer Union.) Men new Arrow Semi-Soft collsrs, 5 for $1.00. SIBLEY CLOTHING, CO. AMERICAN DANCER BIG HIT IN PARIS m v/sm II: /■ I ’■ \ : ft \ ;* I ipv M »' f One of the outstanding hits of the present theatrical season in Paris is a play in which Miss Joan Carroll, -American dancer, is a star attraction. TRY NEWS WANT ADS. 666 ia a prescription fur COLDS. GRIPPE, DENGUE. HEADACHES. CONSTIPA TION. BILIOUSNESS. It is the most speedy remedy we know. Weak Nervous "I was weak and nervous and run-down,” wrlteo Mrs. Edith Sellers, of 466 N. 21st St., East St Louis, HI. ”1 couldn’t sleep nights, I ’ was so restless. I fett tired and not ia condition to do my work. I would have such pains tn my stomach that I was afraid I would get down in bed. . . My mother came to see me and suggested that I use CARDUI 1 The Woman’s Tonic I felt better after my first l bottle. I had a better appetite. It seemed to strengthen and build me up. I am so glad to recom mend Cardut for what it did for me. I haven’t needed any medicine since I took Cardul, and I am feeling fine. Neswousneae, restless ness, sleeplessness—these symptom* so often are the result of * weak, run-down condition, and may de velop more seriously if not treated in time. Take Cardul. Sold everywhere!. EX-105 THE REWARD OF THRIFT The CITY NATIONAL BANK will, on January 1st, add approximately THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS k ' in interest to the balances of its Savings Depositors. That means that those who have had the foresight to deposit their savings in the City National Bank are Three Thousand Dollars better off than they would have been had they kept the money in their pockets or at home. t - -* Make your money earn money for you. Open a Savings account at this strong National Bank today so that you will share in the future interest payments. A 4 PER CENT PAID ON SAVINGS CITY NATIONAL BANK SERVICE SAFETY GRIFFIN GEORGIA Pazefimn