Newspaper Page Text
The Man
From Home
A Novefization of the Play
of the Same Name
By BOOTH TARKINGTON and
HARRY LEON WILSON
C*yri|bt, I9W. by Amertem Pr*
Association
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER I—Daniel Voorhees Pike,
a young Kokomo (Ind ) lawyer,
hears that his ward, Ethel Granger-
Simpson, is to he married abroad to the
son of an English earl. Her father was
his nearest friend, and he has long loved
the girl. He goes abroad to arrange
the business matters connected with
her marriage. II —Ethel Granger-Si,np
son and her brother, Horace, have
become anglomaniacs and are spending
much of their late father’s fortune in
travel and entertaining. They become
intimate with Lady Creech, the Earl
of Hawcastle, his son, Almeric St.
Aubyn, and Comtesse de Champigny,
an adventuress and associate of the
earl’s. They are at a hotel at Sorren
to, Italy, tfthel promises to marry the
son because she craves a title. Ill —
The Russian Grand Duke Vasili is short
ly to arrive at the same hotel incognito
as II err von Grollerhagen.
CHAPTER IV.
STRANGE NEWS.
TIIE Earl of Huwcaslle was near
ly nt the end of Ids financial
rope. And .vet to look at him
as he entered upon the terrace
from the lemon grove no one would
have thought that a care In the world
possessed him.
Added to the natural calm demeanor
of the Englishman of station was a
certain self possession gained by years
of standing on the brink of events,
and. while this brilliant morning his
cares had hung even a little more
heavily upon ldra than was his desire,
yet he gave no outward hint of any
troubles that beset him.
lie was a well preserved man of fif
ty-six, with close cropped iron gray
hair and n straight cut military mus
tache that hid certain cruel lines in
his mouth and fioftened the severe
lineaments. He carried himself with
an erectness that bespoke pride in
race, if not in deeds of Ids own. lie
was distinguished with that curious
Individuality that causes those in the
Btreet to nudge one another and ask
in whispers who nnother may be, and
be was unmistakably high bred.
True, his sense of honor that would
balk at cheating in a card game or
the larceny of a traveling hag was
not sufficient to debar him from con
niving at the attachment of a young
and helpless girl’s money with the
foreknowledge of a lifelong misery for
her as the consequence.
This morning he was clad in an im
maculate suit of lightly striped white
flannel, with carefully pipeclayed shoes,
and the pale rose necktie that he
wore was a living monument to the
fact that the well groomed English
man knows no peer on earth, while the
jaunty exactness of his snowy pan
ama hat wes a revelation in proper
headgear.
As he entered tlie terrace his alert
glauce swept it from end to end, and
he noted that there was no one about.
He moved at once to the table that
Mariano had set for him. and nt the
Instant he sat down Michele ran down
the steps of tlie hotel with a folded
newspaper In his hand which he pre
sented to milord with a low bow
Mariano entered bearing a coffee tray,
and the eurl greeted him with a cheer
ful good morning which Mariano ac
knowledged as one would a favor from
a king.
“Milor’ Is serve,” he announced with
soft accents and took the hat and light
walking stick, bestowing them with
reverential care upon a side table. As
the earl unfolded II Mattiuo he glanced
up.
“No English uppers?” he said.
“Milor’, the mail Is late,” answered
Michele and bowed himself up the
stairs.
“Also Mme. de Champigny,” growled
the earl as he gl a not'd down the unfa
mlljar pages.
As he spoke the countess, clad In the
very latest Parisian creation, swept
down the steps and approached the
table. She looked well, and she knew
It
Apparently about thirty-two, she
would probably have confessed to five
years more under pressure, but her
dark beauty was well set off by the
light colors she affected, and the tilt
>f her parasol revealed more to the
capable eye of an observer than a
ream of self description or admission.
She was of that type that causes the
elderly dowager of any race to regard
her with suspicion and to gather her
male entourage beneath the protecting
wings. Mine, de Champigny, raising
jier hand with a little gesture of greet
lng paused ffb'lnstant as she stood at
the top of the steps and cried softly:
"Me void!”
The earl Jumped to his feet and
bowed, inquiring at the same time:
“My esteemed relative Is still
asleep?”
The countess swept forward to her
chair, which Hawcastle pulled out for
her, and murmured:
“I trust your beautiful son has found
much better employment —as onr
hearts would wish him, eb?”
Hawcastle laughed Bhortly and mirth
lessly.
"He has. He’s off on a canter with
the little American.”
Whereat the demure countess clapped
her daintily gloved hands together and
cried softly:
“Brava!”
That they were old friends, these
two, was to be seen at a glance. There
was no inquiring as to each other’s
tastes and dislikes. It was evident
that long association had Ingrained an
Intimate knowledge of the other Into
the mind of each, and they met as
good comrades without more than per
functory courtesy. The earl went on
as he reseated himself.
“I didn’t mean Almeric, however,
Helene, but my august sister-in-law.”
Without further comment he turned to
the paper ugnin and read. The amia
ble countess smiled at him enigmatic
ally and broke a roll with the gesture
of an empress.
“The afhlal>Te Lady Ilermione Tre
velyan Creech has dejeuner in her
apartments. What do you find to read,
mon cher?”
Hawcastle threw the paper down
upon the doth with an exclamation.
“I’m such a duffer at Italian,” he
said, “but apparently the people along
the coast are having a scare over an
escaped convict, a I Russian.”
The hovering Mariano, who was flit
ting about the table like a wounded
sparrow, started slightly and hesitated
with a silver cover in his hand, then
stepped forward.
“if milor’ will pardon me”— The
countess also started and put down
her fork with a slight rattle.
“A Russian?” she ejaculated.
“Yes,” grumbled the earl. “An es
caped Russian bandit has been traced
to Castellamare"— lie paused to in
sert the choicest bit of melon in bis
mouth, and Mariano’s jaw dropped
with the excitement.
“Castellamare—not twelve kilometers
from here!” be whispered in awestruck
tones, and the earl continued when be
hud masticated the fruit:
“And a confidential agent—secret
service man, 1 dare say—has requested
his arrest from the Italian authorities.
lut, to quote from our grandiose II
Mattino, ‘the brigand tore himself from
the hands of the carabinieri,’ or some
thing like that. I can t be sure, but it
read to me”—
Mariano broke ip excitedly. He had
picked up the paper and was devour
ing it with avidity.
“If milor’ permit, and madame”—
he bowed like an automaton—“l shall
translate.”
“Quite right. Mariano,” said the earl,
and the rnaitre d’hotel went on avidly.
“The brlgan* tore himself,” he read
excitedly, “from the hand of the cara
binieri, and without the doubts he con
ceal himself in some of these grotto
near Sorrento, and searehment is being
execute’. The agent of the Russian
embassy have inform’ the bureau that
this escape one is a mos' in-fray-mose
robber and danger brtgan’.”
“What name does the paper say he
has?” Interrupted Mme. de Champigny,
with a catch of her breath, and Mari
ano bowed again jerkily in her direc
tion.
“It has not to say, madame,” he re
plied. “That is all. And will milor’
and Mine, la Comtesse excuse me?
And may 1 take the journal? There is
one who should see it.”
Hawcastle smiled slightly at his ex
citement and nodded.
“Very well, Mariano,” he said, and
Mariano, with another jerk that was
supposed to include both of the illus
trious ones, disappeared with n speed
iness that was alarming. For an in
stant there was silence, and then the
countess, with a quick upward glance j
of her dark eyes, said tremblingly:
“I should like much to know his |
name."
The earl smiled and went on with !
his breakfast.
“You may lie sure It isn’t IvanofT,” ,
he said, but the assurance did not
seem to carry weight with madame, for
she leaned her chin In her hand and
looked ofT over the bay, and there was
a troubled look iti her eyes.
CHAPTER V.
TnE ENGAGEMENT.
"WTi? can one DOW 1* I* not
Ivanoff?” she asked slowly.
9 £■• and this time the earl laughed
* m aloud.
“He wouldn’t be called an infamous
brigand,” he said, but the countess
waved her hand.
“That, my friend, may be only Ital
ian journalism.”
‘Tooh!” said Hawcastle. “This
means a highwayman—not—not an em
bezzler, Helene.”
The countess arose from the table
and moved about restlessly with her
eyes on the blue expanse.
“I should be glad to believe it, my
rood friend, but I—l care for no more
to rii. I have perhaps some foolish
feeling of nnsafety. It la now two
nights that I dream of him—of Jvanoff
—bad dreams for ns both, my friend.”
The earl looked np In amazement
and then burst into a laugh.
“What rot!” be exclaimed. “It takes
more than a dream to bring a man
back from Siberia.”
The countess looked at him with
some sharpness.
“Then I pray there has been no more
than dreams,” she murmured quietly.
Even as she spoke there came the
tinkling sound of the mandolins and
guitars, and madame turned to the
lemon grove in time to see a young
girl in a fawn colored rkling habit,
with a soft felt hat upon her head and
a riding crop in her gauntleted hands,
enter, followed by three picturesque
banditti with the Instruments.
As she reached the terrace she
paused and drew from her glove some
silver which she dropped into the hand
of the first villain with a laugh. Then
she turned, smiling, as the musicians
withdrew and waved her crop at the
two who were watching her. The earl
arose with a bow, and madame ad
vanced with outstretched hand.
“Ah, the divine Miss Granger-Simp
son!” said Newcastle with raillery in
bis tones, aug the girl laughed with a
happy, care free face.
“The divinely happy Miss Granger-
Simpson,” she said, and at the sound
of her voice and the look In her eyes
the countess ran to her and kissed her
rapturously upon each check.
“Oh, I hope you mean”— she began,
when Hawcastle interrupted her with
some excitement.
“You mean you have made my son
divinely happy?”
The girl extricated herself laughingly
from the embrace of the countess and
turned to the earl.
“Is uot every one divinely happy at
Sorrento,” she cried, waving her crop,
“even your -son?” and with another
laugh ran quickly up the steps and
into the hotel, leaving the other two
locking at each other with astonish
ment.
As they looked a piano from the
music room that opened upon the ter
race broke forth with Chaminade’s
“Elevatjon,” and Ethel's voice took up
the words clearly. The countess turned
to her companion.
“She flies to her piano, mon cher.
Ah, that is good for our little enter
prise, eh? Listen!”
Hawcastle sat down with a grunt of
satisfaction.
“It's time! If Almeric had been any
thing but a clumsy oaf he’d have
made her settle it weeks ago.”
The woman turned her dark eyes
upon him with a flash.
“You are invidious, mon ami. My
affair is not settled. Am Ia clumsy oaf
too?”
The earl laughed quietly.
“No, Helene. Your little American
is so in Wve with you that if you
/}
M'%^
K- jg—
f
A young girl followed by three pictur
esque banditti.
asked him suddenly, ‘Horace, is this
day or night? he would answer, ‘lt's
Helene.’ But he's too shy to speak.
You’re a woman; you can’t press mat
ters. Rut A1 merle’s a man; he can.
He can urge an immediate marriage,
which means an immediate settlement
0
and a direct one.”
Mine, de Champlgny picked up a
silver fork from the table and exam
ined it carefully.
“It will not be small—that settle
ment? You have decided what sum?’
Hawcastle looked up sharply and
nodded with decision.
”1 have —a hundred and fifty thou
sand pounds!”
From the countess came a gasp of
astonishment.
“My friend! Will she?” And she
turned and stared at the room where
the piano was still playing. Hawcastle
laughed grimly.
“Not for Almeric, but to be the
Countess of Hnwcastle. My ancient
sister-in-law hasn't been her chaperon
for a year for nothing. Ai!?i. by Jove,
she hasn’t done it for nothing, either!”
|And this time he laughed quite heart
ily as with a grim appreciation of the
jest.
“But she’s deserved all 1 shall allow
her,” he resumecT. “You see, It was
she who found these people. Indeed,
we might say that both you and I owe
her something. Even a less captious
respectability than Lady Creech's
might have looked askance at the long
‘friendship’ that has existed between
us. Yet she has always countenanced
us, my dear, though she must have
guessed a great many things. And she
will help us to urge an immediate
marriage. You know as well as I do
that unless it is immediate there’ll be
the devil to ~pay. TJonT"miss that es
sential. Something must be done at
once. We’re at tbe breaking point, if
you like tbe words—a most damnable
Insolvency.”
As be finished speaking tbe immacu
late and vacuous Almeric himself
strolled into tbe terrace and, putting
up his glass as be came forward, said
softly:
“Hello, governor! Howdy, countess!”
With an affectation of boredom be
sprawled Into a chair and tapped at
his boots with bis crop.
“Out riding a bit ago, you know,
with Miss Granger-Simpeon. Rippin’
girl, isn't she?”
His father leaned across the table
with tension in every line of him.
“Go on!” he said anxiously, and Al
meric looked up at him with a silly
smile.
“Didn’t stop with her, though.”
"Why not?” demanded the earl an
grily.
“A sort of man In the village got me
to look at a .bull terrier pup,”. Almeric
hMf Mi
ml't ' - j ' i)
“She accepted me”
Went on, with a yawn.* “ Wonderful
little beast for points. Jolly luck, isn't
it? He bas got a head on him”—
Hawcastle interrupted savagely.
“We’ll concede bis tremendous ad
vantage over you in that respect,” he
said aud threw the cigar he had just
lighted into the coffee cup.
“Is that all you have to tell us?”
implored the couutess, with a dra
matic gesture, leaning forward. Al
meric looked up with surprise.
“Oh, no!” he said. “She accepted me.”
The earl dropped into a chair with a
sigh of relief, and the countess clasped
her hands ecstatically.
“Enfin! Brava! And will she let it
be soon?”
Again Almeric stifled a yawn.
“I dare say there'll be no row about
that,” he replied. “You see. I’ve made
her awf’ly happy.”
“On my soul, I believe you’re right,”
said Hawcastle, “and thank God you
are!”
Rising, he walked up and down the
terrace and then turned quickly.
“Here's her brother,” he said softly.
“Attention now!”
CHAPTER VI.
EASY FREY.
VSUALLY when a man through
inclination or environment de
cides that the manners of his
people will not serve for him
and that the customs of the land of
his adoption are more applicable to his
purpose he outdoes even the natives
in bis conformation to the existing
modes.
Horace Granger-Simpson—the Gran
ger was but a recent innovation ftue to
the belief that Simpson by itself was
altogether too hopelessly plebeian to
attract even a modicum of attention
had consorted with the gilded youth
of several capitals, and his education
had progressed to such an extent that
the youth of Kokomo would have
stoned him instantly upon his arrival
at the town depot.
He ambled with a rocking gait,
drawn from the guardsmen he had so
carefully watched, down the steps or
the hotel on to the terrace, and his
attire would have attracted notice from
a Hindoo idol. He wore spotlessly
white flannels, white shoes pipeclayed
to a dazzling degree, a thoroughly
British straw hat, chamois gloves and
a pale blue scarf held together wltb a
massive pearl.
For an instant Mme. la Comtesse
looked at him and then, with a little
cry of greeting, rushed toward the
steps and took both his startled hands.
“Ah, my dear Horace Granger-
Seempson!” she said excitedly. “Has
your sister told you?”
Horace swallowed once or twice
savagely and then made a heroic ef
fort to keep down the radiance that
was choking him. made two effectual
dabs at his eyes with the handkerchief
he took from his sleeve and responded
joyfully, though brokenly:
“She has, indeed. 1 assure you lam
quite overcome, my dear friends.
Really, 1 assure you.”
With a silvery laugh Mme. de Cbam
pigny stepped backward from him,
making a little courtesy as she did so.
The earl came forward with out
-1 stretched hands and grasped one of
j Horace's between both his own.
1 “My dear young friend.” he said.
“Not at *ll—not at all.”
As the remark seemed a trifle ai
blguous, Horace looked at him inquir
ingly, but, reading reassurance lu his
face, replied instantly:
“I assure you lam. 1 assure you I
am. It’s quite overpowering, isn’t it?”
With a look of commiseration the
countess regarded him and said softly:
“Ah, poor M. Horace!”
From his sprawled attitude in the
chair the honorable Almeric drawled
a protest.
“I say! Don’t take it that way, you
know. She’s very happy.”
Horace recovered himself instantly
and crossed tbe terrace quickly to
grasp the hand of the bridegroom to
be. The fact that it was as limp as a
mackerel did not worry him an Instant.
“She’s worthy of it—she’s worthy of
it! 1 know she is! And when will it
be, St. Aubyn?” he said.
“Enchanting!” cried the countess en
thusiastically. “So clear is his grasp
of the case, eh?”
Hawcastle flashed her a glance and
turned to Horace.
“Oh, the date?” he said doubtfully.
“I dare say within a year—two
years”—
There was another little cry of pro
test from the countess, and the earl
glared at her menacingly. Horace
started, too, and seemed to be about
to enter a positive objection, but he
contented himself with saying:
“Oh, but 1 say, you know, isn’t
that putting it jolty far off? The
thing’s settled, isn’t it? Why not say
a month instead of a year?”
“sHa-hum!” said the earl. “Oh, if
you likeJ I don't know that there is
any real objection.”
“I do, indeed,” returned Horace.
“See here! Why not let them marry
here in Italy?”
Hawcastle could scarcely conceal his
satisfaction, while Mme. de Cham
pigny executed a bit of a pas seui be
hind Horace's back.
“Ah, the dashing methods of you
Americans!" returned the earl smil
ingly. “You carry things on so! Next
you'll be saying, ‘Why not here at Sor
rento?' ”
“Well, and why not, indeed?” asked
Horace instantly.
“And then,” went on Hawcastle,
smiling, “and then it will be, ‘Why not
within a fortnight?”’
“Right-o!” cried Horace. “And why
not within a fortnight?”
Almeric sat up and stared at his no
ble father and brother-in-law to be,
but the earl smiled once more that
cheerful smile and waved a deprecat
ing hand.
“Ah, you wonderful people! You are
whirlwinds, yet I see no reason why
it should not be in a fortnight.”
“Oh, here! I say, you know!” inter
jected Almeric, heaving himself erect
in the chair and waving a protesting
crop. The earl turned on him in
stantly.
“As 1 say, dear boy. why not?" he
inquired suavely, and Almeric wilted
immediately.
“Just as you say, governor,” he an
swered meekly.
“Enchanting! Brava!” cried the
countess, and Hawcastle again turned
to tbe palpitating Horace.
“My son Is all impatience,” he mur
mured, fixing the young man with his
eye.
“Quite so, quite so!” answered Al
meric dazedly, and his father went on:
“Shall we dispose of the necessary
little details at once—the various mi
nor arrangements, the —er —er —settle-
ment?” and interrupted himself with
a friendly laugh and patted Horace
upon the back. “Of course as men of
the world—our world —you understand
there Bre formalities In the nature of
a settlement.”
Horace, who was in the seventh
heaven of delight at the approaching
alliance between one of the ancient
houses of Kokomo, Ind., and the hon
orable line of Hawcastle, broke in
eagerly:
“Quite so, of course! I know! Cer
tainly! Perfectly!”
“Then we’ll have no difficulty about
that, my boy. I’ll wire my solicitor
tonight and he'll be here within two
days,” said the earl carelessly. “If
you wish to consult your own solicitor
you can cable him, of course."
Suddenly Horace seemed taken with
a fit of embarrassment.
“The fact is, Lord Hawcastle,” he
said. “I’ve a notion that our solicitor
—Ethel’s man of business, that is—
from Kokomo, Ind., where our govern
or lived—in fact, a sort of guardian of
hers —may be here at any time. I’ve
heard from friends that he is coming
in this direction.”
The word had caught Hawcastle’s
attention, and he leaped at it.
[continued next week]
Enthusiastic Photographer.
Fair One’s Father Why did you
bring that kodak with you? Poor Lov
er—That I might catch your expres
sion of astonishment when I asked you
for your daughter’s hand.—Fllegende
Blatter.
Obeying Papa.
Stern Father—Now, now, my boys,
quarreling again—and for a miserable
little halfpenny? One of the Boys—
Well, you said, father, the less we
quarreled about the better!—London
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