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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 Tit-Bits. .... i